He suggested one in a factory a few miles away, painting chess sets. I accepted the idea, but Alfie didn't. She is a late sleeper. "I'm not getting up at seven every morning to drive you to some factory to paint sodding chess sets for slave wages. I married a musician because they keep civilised hours. Besides, as a commie, I refuse to collude with such blatant exploitation. Also, I'd have no-one to talk to all day." So I had no choice really.

Rough Trade saved the day, allowing me the kind of musical and contractual independence from totalitarian commercialism without which I barely function.

But I had, during my recent fallow period, become more of a listener than a composer, and much of the music I chose to interpret reflected that.

Apart from "Pigs" (a self-explanatory docu-drama) I got the notion to take on great melodies by the best: Charlie Haden, Thelonius Sphere Monk, Eubie Blake, Clive Langer and Elvis Costello. Some are of course standards. The others ought to be, I think.