I played in front of every conceivable audience you could face: an all-black audience, all-white, firemen's fairs, policemen's balls, in front of supermarkets, bar mitzvahs, weddings, drive-in theaters. I'd seen it all before I ever walked into a recording studio.
I don't have a formal home recording studio, but I can record tracks on my computer upstairs in my office.
One of the more surreal days I've ever had in the recording studio was Martin Fry teaching Hugh Grant his old dance moves. Showing him how to do the hair-flip and the point, and all these sort of trademark moves of his.
Whenever I'm home, I haven't got any makeup on. But even in the studio, before I do vocals, I put makeup on.
The recollection of how, when and where it all happened became vague as the lingering strains hung in the rafters of the studio. I wanted to shout back at it, Maybe I didn't write you, but I found you.
But I don't like working on lyrics publicly in the studio - I prefer to take them away and work on them in my bedroom.