This month I’ve been working on the new Eno/Byrne record, which is now on the way to being mixed. Brian handed me all the files and I started off by collating all the different versions that had sprouted up; he and David had been working separately on different versions of the same song. Once the right version was agreed, Seb Rochford came down to my studio to put drums on everything. As with every time I work with him, he completely blew me away. Particularly remarkable is the way he tunes his kit to each track. All drummers are supposed to do this, but he gets it so right that his drums always sit inside the track perfectly, which was particularly important on this record as there were so many crazy loops and bits of percussion already on it. Brian came to the studio for a couple of hours and, after generally approving things, made a number of brilliant rapid-fire suggestions that completely changed the feel of some of the tracks. We went to the local pie-n-mash place (G. Kelly’s - an East End legend - slightly surreal seeing him in there) and got drenched on the way.

The next stage was editing all the drums to sit properly with the programmed bits, which took the best part of a week. Then I started going through all the sounds doing the same to them. Since then I’ve been playing extra bits of guitar, piano and percussion, and emailing back and forth with Brian and David, putting in all the last bits that need to be added. David is incredibly fast delivering his vocal takes (which he’s been emailing from New York), and it’s a real pleasure to go sifting through them - he’s such an eccentric singer and the gaps between verses are often filled with joyful little ‘whoop’s and interjections, and sometimes the unmistakable honks of a New York taxi, which magically always seem to end just in time for when the singing starts. Bizarrely I’ve only actually met him once, when he came to London a couple of weeks ago. We got to have a guitar jam together on one of the tracks, and the same day I helped Brian layer up his trademark choir of manly vocals. It’s always lovely witnessing him do that, and especially so underneath David’s voice - the two together is such a familiar, classic combination. So now I’m preparing all the files for mixing, which is fairly grunt-like but I definitely feel like a privileged grunt.

I did a couple of concerts this month called Daughters Of Albion, which is like a mini-festival of female folk singers featuring Norma Waterson, Kathryn Williams, June Tabor and several others. I was filling in for David Coulter, and if ever there was a terrifying person to have to fill in for, it is he - he plays everything from the mandola to the musical saw. So I came duly armed with hurdy-gurdy, mandolin, bouzouki, guitaret, bandura and guitorgan, and had a great time making strange sounds and playing beautiful folk music. It all felt very relaxed (especially considering it was put together so quickly), and a few times during the concert I was lost in the music and completely forgot I was doing a gig.

I also did a show of my own in Brighton, the first for nearly a year. I decided to minimise the looping trickery and do most of it on acoustic, and it was a much more pleasurable, musical experience. I’m planning to do a lot more shows around the time of my next record. And last night I played with Peter Schwalm and a video artist called Sophie Clements. My part was completely improvised but I took all my cues from the visuals; it was a new thing for me responding to sound and vision at the same time, and it seemed to take a lot of the potential bullshit out of improvisation - the sounds have to compliment what you see and the notes compliment what you hear, and the music seems to flow out really naturally.

Lastly I did a bit of work with Jon Hopkins on the film we are doing with Brian, and had a few days in the studio with Claire Nicolson, putting guitars and strings on her album and producing a couple of tracks that I wrote with her. It was a bit of a rush job but turned out well - mostly thanks to the drummer, Phil Wilkinson, who creates wonderful atmospheres with the simplest patterns, and who hits an empty suitcase with a brush instead of using a kick drum.

The ‘roast up the Matterhorn’ referred to last month went ok in the end, although after a 36 hour journey it was somewhat frustrating to have to travel the last leg in a tiny electric-powered wagon (the town of Zermatt does not allow cars). I was looking forward to going up the mountain, but the only day we had time to do it, the whole mountain was closed due to adverse weather conditions (fog). Incidentally, Zermatt has 2 graveyards - one for the locals and one for tourists…

’Life is a rollercoaster, just gotta ride it’ as a great poet once said, and the last 3 weeks have certainly been up and down. Somebody stole one of my favourite (and most expensive) guitars. Because I left it outside my house in the middle of the night. Clever. After I’d stopped slamming my testicles in a draw I put up a load of signs around where I live offering a reward. Eventually the bloke contacted me but didn’t ring back. I had already asked all the major shops to keep a lookout, and yesterday I got a tip–off that he had arranged to sell it at a particular store. I went down there and caught him red–handed. Well, me and three policemen. He knew I’d put the word out that it was stolen but I guess he just wanted more money than the reward I offered. I ended up feeling sorry for the guy because he was so stupid and greedy. Then I discovered he was already wanted by the police for other stuff. I always knew I’d get my guitar back somehow, but still can’t quite believe it.

Anyway. I produced a track with Ed Harcourt for Teddy Thompson which is going on the cover cd of Q magazine. It’s a version of Don’t Dream It’s Over, recorded in Ed’s kitchen with my laptop and a couple of mics. It features smoky piano, a 1920s drum kit and drunken slide guitar. With a song as good as that though you could do it on kazoo and it would still break your heart. I’ve also had some really enjoyable sessions on very different projects, all of which required me to do the laptop/guitar mangling thing (Marc Arciero, Jonathan Czerwick and Bertine Zetlitz). I like the fact that there can be a common sonic thread through these different genres.

Then I rehearsed for a few days with Ronan Keating (or at least the band) for a few festivals. It’s always a great laugh with those guys and very civilised. But when I bumped into an old friend outside the studio and told him what I was doing he looked at me as if, to borrow a phrase from Chris Morris, his mother had just crawled out of my nose. The thing is, I get to see a side of the business with them that I just wouldn’t elsewhere, and now and then it’s pretty fun to punt round the BBC waiting to mime on Strictly Dance Fever while Graham Norton looks at your arse, trying not to laugh when two practically naked fairy lovers gyrate in front of you. Actually, hang on a minute…

In terms of my own stuff there was the Absolute Zero night at Bush Hall which will hopefully become a regular thing, finishing touches are being put to the artwork for my next record and to the collaboration with Peter Schwalm, the record with vocals is nearly finished, and I did an interview and concert for Echoes, a very influential US national radio station. The people from Echoes are great and their site is a good resource for finding new music. And now, I’m half way through learning the Roxy Music set, making notes and programming sounds. Time to get back to work.

Lo and behold, the drought is over. Last week I had an incredible 4 days recording sea shanties for a project devised by Jonny Depp and produced by Hal Wilner. Many different singers contributed, from Nick Cave (brooding and witty) to Bryan Ferry (indescribably cool, even when singing about fish), via folk legends the Carthys and Linda Thompson, and my old mucker Ed Harcourt. But the highlight had to be the artist Ralph Steadman, who led a spirited rendition of ’Little Boy Billee’. There was loads of chorus singing in all the shanties, with everyone crammed into in the tiny vocal booth. I was part of the 6–piece ’house band’, which included Warren Ellis from the Bad Seeds on violin who was extremely inspiring to play with. Hal is the most slyly patient producer I have ever encountered. He gives the musicians so much space to find their own way into the song (most producers are determined to stamp their vision on things straight away). He’ll then make just one or two tiny suggestions, which are always dead on, and that’s it. I can’t really emphasise enough how rare that approach is, and how much fun it was to just sit in a studio with all these people and play live instead of fiddling around with overdubs.The album should be out in May.

Before that I’d been in Belfast working on the soundtrack to a short film with David Holmes, during which he also completed a remix for my next record. In fact, the soundtrack turned out to be comprised mainly of music discarded from the initial Good German soundtrack sessions, when it still looked like the film called for an electronic score. So the pressure was off and there was a lot of messing around.

On the solo front I’ve had a couple of gigs which might have suffered a bit from my not having done any practise for a couple of months. Perhaps not too obvious to the untrained eye, but it makes the difference between playing from the heart and freaking out about which pedal to hit next. I also put the finishing touches to the record I made with J Peter Schwalm which is kind of a Christmassy ambient thing, and had a meeting about it with a PR company who seem to think they can do the business, which is exciting.

I also did a couple of ’sessions’ for a ballet class. This involved sitting at the front of a room full of dancers who were being led through impossibly complicated moves by their teacher, who would suddenly turn to me and say something like ’8, 8, 16, 12. In threes’ and I would have to improvise a piece conforming to those subdivisions. It was very challenging, and I felt as nervous as I do before going onstage. But it’s lovely to respond to the dancers, and I think they enjoyed the novelty of electric guitar loops instead of what they are used to – a bongo.

I am typing this inside a wardrobe in a Majorca hotel. It’s been quite a fortnight. First, thanks to everyone who came to the gig in Hackney on Tuesday and made it such a great night - friends old and new, and welcome strangers. It was the last of a trio of gigs that represented the wonderful variety of life as a musician. Sunday - playing in front of 10,000 people at a stately home with a pop star. Monday - in front of 10 people above a café, supporting a man playing an electric cheese-grater.

After those it was straight off to the countryside to start work on Ed Harcourt’s next album. It was a gloriously makeshift setup in his parents’ house; cue endless rounds of boules on the lawn with Hadrian, recording one-take wonders crammed into a tiny space between piled-up chairs and books, and anxiety over the wisdom of recording trumpet and bell at 3am in the hallway. Needless to say Ed has come up with a stunning selection of songs once again.

Then off again to Belfast to score a film with David Holmes - a very dark psycho-drama about a suicide-bomber. It manages to avoid anything resembling a cliché or an obvious conclusion, and it was an interesting challenge to reflect this pervading ambiguity in the music. We also worked a bit on David’s upcoming album.

Next, to Majorca for a gig with Peter Schwalm. It was a beautiful setting, in the open air in a courtyard by the museum, looking out over the harbour. On bass was Tim Harries, one of my biggest inspirations. Just like the old days in Eno’s band, his playing was so shockingly wonderful that I just wanted to stop what I was doing and listen! His band is called Spin Marvel. They’re pretty deep.

Appeared on Resonance FM this morning, having just returned from a gig in Monaco knackered after no sleep. Nerves combined with hangover meant my hands were shaking like Elvis’s pelvis during the live track. The interview was fun though, and a listener phoned in to get details, which is rare apparently – so this promotion lark works then. On the subject of publicity, the first few album reviews have come in, all positive so far. It feels really awkward to read them, and especially strange when I end up agreeing with the critical bits!

Last week I produced some tracks at Toerag for my friend James Wolfe (who I routinely describe as ‘the genius in my life’). It was so refreshing to record straight to tape and have the option-woven safety net of the computer taken away. Having said that, when I transferred one of the recordings to my laptop I neglected to check it so I’ll be spending many shitty hours repairing loads of distorted bits. Nearly cried when I realized. Still, all the tracks are amazing and I hope James makes his mark soon.

Apart from that I’ve mainly been working on new music and preparing for future concerts – my own, and some with Petra-Jean Phillipson and Peter Schwalm. I played with Ed Harcourt too at the Hackney Empire in circumstances so chaotic (no equipment, crew who hated each other, etc) that the music took on a wonderfully surreal floating quality. I knocked Ed’s acoustic over in the first song and he gave me an ‘I will kill you’ look, before spending the rest of the show behind his fringe. But he played incredibly and was very satisfied afterwards. Hurrah.

By complete contrast I have also been doing a few festivals with Herr Keating. Everyone in the band is so nice, the big R is utterly charming and genuine, and as an East Dubliner disconcertingly says fuck every third word, but with such little emphasis that you hardly notice. Of course it isn’t great art or anything, but the interesting thing is how satisfying it feels to play to absolutely ecstatic audiences. They’re only interested in Ro and I could be anybody, but they’re really having a good time – much more so than a lot of the ‘respectful’ audiences I’m privileged enough to play to under normal circumstances – and it’s rather nice. Not that one is ‘better’ than the other, but I’m enjoying being part of something different. Temporarily.