In musicians’ parlance, a ‘roast’ refers to a particularly challenging gig. I am currently stuck in snowy Gatwick awaiting a plane to the Matterhorn, on the way to a prog-rock roast presided over by the impossibly affable Jon Lord (of Deep Purple fame). When I received the sheet music a day before the rehearsal, and saw page after page densely blackened with semiquavers, I panicked slightly and started to think of ways to escape. But then I cast my mind back to my college days when I used to be able to play that sort of thing, and decided to ‘get my chops back’. It’s been a stimulating experience.

Most of the last month has been spent in my studio, working on a number of projects. I produced a song for Beth Rowley which will feature on a forthcoming Dusty Springfield compilation, recorded for a My Robot Friend track, did 4 new Smoke Fairies songs, continued work on the Brian Eno/David Byrne project, and had a great couple of days with drummer Seb Rochford, starting new tracks for my next record. It’s being overseen by David Holmes; he always seems to get the best out of me when we work on other projects, so I’m looking forward to seeing what happens when we do something of mine. I’m trying not to write or plan too much in advance, and letting the tracks evolve instead, avoiding my usual sounds and tendencies.

Also this month I was asked to contribute a track to an album put together by Rosetta Life - a charity that uses the arts to enhance the lives of terminally ill children. They gave me a 15 minute cd of a 5 year old girl called Kimberley, who at birth was given just weeks to live. She is unable to speak, but can sing and imitate sounds. So music is the way she communicates. I made an electronic track using only sounds that she had produced, and overlaid a commentary by her mother explaining her condition. As with the previous thing I did for this charity, it seemed like a blessed project in a way - there were so many happy accidents, and unlikely alignments of disparate elements turning out to be in time, or in the same key. It was a joy to work on.

A friend in LA is producing an album called ‘Headless Heroes’, featuring a lovely new American folk artist called Alela Diane covering obscure 60s songs. He asked me to do string arrangements for 3 of them, and it was great to be able to record them all at home and send the files by email. I’ve been so enjoying working at home and having these wonderful projects come to me. It’s the kind of life I want at the moment (especially now that I am at Gatwick in a 5-hour delay).

A couple of forays into adland, one successful and one not. I just deleted the paragraph I wrote about the experience, but if you can imagine a situation where bullshit also has the capacity to break your heart (though at no fault of the people you are working for I hasten to add), then you’ll get the jist. I have a lot of respect for people who spend their whole careers doing that kind of thing. Even when it goes well, it’s decimating.

A session for Jon Hopkins’ new album and a few tweaks to the closing credits of the Hunger soundtrack, and that’s pretty much it. Spare moments were spent thinking about with lyrical approaches to my next solo project. I think I want to sing this time and, whereas I’ve often written for others (and 10 years ago used to write and sing my own songs), I have a pathological aversion to most of the lyrics I hear and write. But I’m finding another way to approach things, partly inspired by The Books. I’ve also really enjoyed singing again, and ended up adding backing vocals to the Beth Rowley and Headless Heroes tracks. Like the unexpected prog roast, it’s a new challenge and I’m going to take it slow and steady.

As soon as I got off the Bryan Ferry tour I repaired to my basement to produce an album by the Smoke Fairies. It took all month and was a wonderful experience. They are a folk/dark bluegrass duo who sing and play 50s guitars. Recording it was sonic heaven, creating an intimate forest of plucked strings over which I played hurdy–gurdy, accordion, mandolin and harmonium. An intense period musically and psychologically, but I am really pleased with the results. Now they just have to find themselves a deal!

Then I had a bizarre couple of days doing sessions for an upcoming children’s cartoon series in which all the characters are in bands and fight each other with magical rays that emanate from their instruments (this is set in the future by the way). Each one had to have their own personality, which was great fun to design, and I got to dust off an utterly tasteless 80s monstrosity of an electric guitar which hadn’t seen the light of day for some time. The project is the brainchild of Magnus Fiennes, a genius programmer and film music guy who seems to somehow juggle hundreds of projects at once. I also did a little gig with Ed Harcourt at the legendary Ronnie Scott’s to mark the release of his Best–Of. As always it was like a warm, unrehearsed family reunion.

Finally there is a release date for my new record The Unrest Cure – January 21st. These things take time! So there is suddenly lots to do, from making a video of interviews with all the guest singers (and myself), to editing the Bingo Gazingo footage that I shot in New York and having meetings with another round of truly dynamic individuals in glass offices who have it with in their power to do wonderful things or, um, forget about me completely. A short update considering it’s been a while, but maybe that’s because I’m really satisfied with what’s been going on the last few weeks, and I don’t feel so compelled to try and make much sense of it.

I’m in New York, and I’ve woken up too early. It’s a flying visit with Bryan Ferry for a guest spot in a concert of sea shanties, presided over by Hal Wilner (I worked on the album, Rogue’s Gallery, in April last year). I walked into the rehearsal to be confronted with a stage full of legendary session musicians backing up an avant–garde duet between Lou Reed and Laurie Anderson. As seems always to be the case in New York, everyone was incredibly laid back and genuinely welcoming. Anthony (from Anthony and the Johnsons) featured in one of Bryan’s tunes with violin, trombone and pots and pans abounding. Everything was so quiet and intense onstage, completely and blessedly, refreshingly different to the maelstrom we’d got used to on the tour! Bryan works so well in that stripped down environment and he really enjoyed it. Afterwards I bumped into Michael Stipe who didn’t remember inviting me to feel his heat patch in 2004. I was quite offended.

Bryan’s tour ended in much the style to which we had become accustomed. There was a rambunctious final show in Newcastle so we ended on a high, but I think everyone in the band was knackered and looking forward to being at home for a bit. With the exception of a couple of tv shows (including Jools Holland, at which the set was so dark during our number that I played a dreadful clanger that luckily they can edit out) and a trip to Stockholm all has been quiet on the Ferry front which has left me time to catch up on other things.

I finally finished the album with guest singers so it should be out for Autumn. The last track features KT Tunstall. She’d had it for a while, but when I went round to her house to record she said she’d not had time to come up with anything and would have to do it on the spot. She then proceeded to blow my mind by coming up with an absolutely brilliant tune, writing a verse, recording it, then the chorus, then a most un–KT–like spoken word section, then effortlessly stacking up some immaculate 7–part funky harmonies. I was completely staggered. obviously everyone knows she is talented, but to see it all happen up close was seriously impressve. This album has taken 2 years, almost to the day, to complete. Although I’ve released 2 other records in that time, and despite the obvious benefits of having the likes of KT and Brian Eno involved, this is the last time I involve so many other people. Waiting for and relying on others has been quite a nail–biter. But now it’s on with mixes, artwork and consent forms.

It has been a month of expensive purchases. First came a hurdy–gurdy which I had to have specially made. It is truly an instrument of the Gods. I felt like it was time to learn something new and have been trying to get to grips with the thing. Playing melodies on it is fairly straight–forward but combining that with getting a good rhythm out of the wheel thing is like patting your head and rubbing your stomach whilst completely pissed. I also bought a load of new gear for the studio (and spent hours helping my friend solder it together). Any nerves about the wisdom of lavishing so much cash about quickly disappeared during the inaugural session with the marvellous Smoke Fairies. Suddenly, everything sounded ’like a record’. The studio was good in the first place, but now it’s as if all the tools have been sharpened, making engineering ideas much more achievable. It feels equivalent to only having been allowed to play a guitar that was impossible to tune properly, then being given a really good one and hearing all your ideas come into focus.

There was another lovely session for King Creosote, but the highlight of the last few weeks for me has been getting started on the follow–up to Honeytrap. I did a couple of days recording with a percussionist called Martin Barker, who plays all manner of unusual instruments, some of which he makes himself, in a unique and powerful way. Most percussionists who use exotic instruments skirt dangerously and half–heartedly around ’world music’ territory, but not Martin. His contribution has opened up all kinds of new possibilities. In one case what he did was so good that I realised the song was crap by comparison and would have to be completely rethought. It was so cathartic to finally get round to recording these ideas that have been swimming around in my head for months, and now I am just itching to get back into the studio and carry on.

I’m on a tour bus with Jarvis Cocker, somewhere between Vienna and Amsterdam. It’s the morning after a night spent singing Beatles tunes until 4am and the air is still thick with tall stories, cigarette smoke and stale farts. The shows have been going well so far; Jarvis is playing only his new material, which is strong enough to rebuff the occasional heckle for Pulp tunes. We finish every night with a cover – last night was Paranoid (though it was very nearly I’m Too Sexy). The support band is different each night; in Italy Jarvis thought he’d be nice and go and watch a few songs, but the audience recognised him and turned away from the band en masse to try and get autographs. During the day I’m working on string arrangements for a band called The Envy Corps.

The year started in South Africa with Ronan. Probably my last gigs with him for quite a while. Although I respect him as a performer and like him very much as a person, the music does rather depress me. There is satisfaction to be had in doing a good job, but then you can get that playing music you actually like too. Still, I am grateful for the work, and for the very generous treatment the minstrels (as Ro’s tour manager calls us) receive. I explained all this in response to a question from the agent’s wife over dinner, after which her 8 year old daughter bellowed, “what, so you don’t like the music?!” well within range of everyone, including Ronan. Inexplicably omnipresent during the trip was a friend of the promoter, ostensibly there to help out, but who in fact turned out to be an arms dealer with an extremely dubious past in the apartheid–era police force and a wife who seemed mortally offended if she was unable to convince you to get drunk with her. The promoter himself, a delightful and apparently extremely well–connected and powerful man, seemed only too happy to stoop to the level of being hassled about all the tiny things tour managers hassle promoters about. It was all very mysterious.

Between these two trips I went to Paris with Bryan Ferry to do a live TV show, worked a lot on my new album, and produced some vocal sessions for Sylvie Lewis, who wanted to redo parts of her latest record. I really enjoy working with singers – it’s something I haven’t done for quite a while. Sylvie’s songs are very classic, almost instant ’standards’, and it was satisfying trying to get the vocals to be personal and characterful, and finding the right combinations of microphones and compressors to match. I also started work on a record with Katherine from the Smoke Fairies, which is going to consist of instrumental versions of hymns. I’m doing my acoustic and ambient things, and she plays banjo, lapsteel, slide and a few other bits. I’m trying to do as much as possible from memory instead of consulting my hymnbook, and it’s a lovely nostalgic feeling working with all those beautiful tunes in the absence of words I never really connected with anyway. What with all that and finishing off writing the follow-up to Honeytrap, I’m getting a bit worried about spreading myself too thin; I seem to record a lot and then not take as much of an interest as I should in promoting it, but I just love recording music and have virtually no interest in trying to draw attention to myself afterwards. It’s exciting having all these ideas bubbling away at the moment.