I have just emerged from the unforgettable mammoth voyage that was Hal Wilner’s Rogues Gallery Live. 3 concerts, 60 sea shanties, and more performers than you could shake a cutlas at. At one point Lou Reed, Tim Robbins, Shane MacGowan, the Carthy Family, Neil Hannon, Gavin Friday, Chris Difford and many more were all onstage, and I thought I had to be dreaming. Too many highlights to list really, but playing hurdy-gurdy with Lou Reed is worth a mention. At rehearsal he prowled onto the stage, and told the band: “I do not want to have to follow you at all. You will follow me. I will change the chords and the timing without warning and you need to keep up. If that sounds like fun, then play. If that doesn’t sound like fun, don’t play anything“. It sounded like fun, and we did play, and he seemed to like it. Random observations I made: he has a pair of glasses whose lenses flip up and down and he likes to play with them a lot; he has unexpectedly soft hands and is very courteous and gentle under a gnarled exterior; he has a phenomenal sense of tempo, disregarding the ubiquitous metronome in search of the ’sweet spot’; he really likes hurdy-gurdy. The house band included David Coulter on (literally) show-stopping saw, Roger Eno on piano, euphonium and naughty crosswords, Andy Newmark (from Bryan Ferry’s band) on drums, Martyn Barker (who plays on my next record) on percussion, Dudley Phillips on bass and Kate St John on accordion. at the Dublin show all the artists crowded in at the back of the stage just behind my amp to watch the show, and the atmosphere was amazing. It was truly a privilege to be there.

Earlier in the month I went to Belfast to work on a film score with David Holmes. The director is Oliver Hirschbiegel who did ‘Downfall’. It is mostly bass and laptop guitar textures. I took the files away to mix at home, and we’ll get together again in a few weeks to do the remaining cues. I also had a session with Annie Lennox. Before she arrived the band set up and got an arrangement going, and it sounded good, if a bit ’session musician-y’. Then she walked in and quietly but firmly changed the direction of the whole thing, explaining her ideas gently then pounding the shit out of an upright piano to demonstrate. It was brilliant to be playing with that unmistakable voice coming through the headphones. A weird guitar solo was called for, and again she directed things very eloquently; a couple of times I messed up at the end and swore, which made me feel guilty.

I did some more recording with Beth Rowley, and her drummer Phil Wilkinson, who adds strange bits of junk to his drumkit to devastating effect. She asked me to do a couple of gigs with her to fill in for her regular guitarist, so I had to learn the set on the morning of the first show. Then I found out the show was televised and it was a bit nerve-wracking. I can’t help it, no matter how many times I do tv it always makes me nervous. Even in the days when I did terrible miming jobs which didn’t involve actual playing, I used to worry about falling over instead. The other gig was at T In The Park which turned into a bit of a reunion as lots of old friends were there playing with other bands. Then I went to a session with a great film composer called Alex Heffes. He is making a record of improvisations with various people all over the world, from Uganda to New York. He wanted some sounds from me to tie certain elements together without compromising the purity of the interactions, so it was an interesting exercise - I had to be very discreet, but still contribute something tangible. I ended up on tracks featuring Ryuichi Sakamoto and Regina Spektor.

The artwork to my next record The Grape And The Grain is nearly ready, although I don’t think it will be out until after Christmas now. I’ve been writing again, and I got a brilliant new Swart amp which has been inspiring me. I have a lot of ideas floating around at the moment which have been driving me a bit mad, so I’m just trying to get them all down roughly so that they can be experienced in reality instead of in my head. Inevitably, some of them come out and I wonder why I devoted so much time mulling them over when in fact they’re a bit crap, but there are plenty that I want to keep working on. David Lynch talks about “staying true to the idea” - meaning that at every single stage you need to cling fiercely to the essence and feeling of the initial inspiration. It sounds obvious, but it’s really difficult not to let certain things slide - you might compromise just slightly on the feeling of a guitar sound for instance, and it might seem that it doesn’t matter, but it can actually fatally skew the integrity of the whole thing. In other words, I’ve had to do a lot of twiddling and tweaking before I can actually sit down and play.

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…

Flying home from Londonderry. I’ve been filming a dvd with the Irish singer Cara Dillon. It was a pretty idyllic session, situated not in a dark studio but the drummer’s house which sits on the edge of a vast loch in the middle of nowhere. The other musicians were amazing; folk players are always so generous and eager to join in with each other at the drop of a hat. In between takes, most musicians (myself included) tend to twiddle away to themselves; with this lot you could be just tuning your guitar and someone would pick up on it and turn it into a song.

I did a lot more work on the Brian Eno/Herbie Hancock collaboration this month, recording drums with Seb Rochford (of Poalr Bear and Acoustic Ladyland). He is a quite extraordinary drummer, a fountain of invention with an admirable aversion to playing the ride cymbal, except when absolutely necessary. He has a unique feel and his parts are very melodic, which is pretty difficult on the drums. We also worked on the David Byrne recordings. Brian was on hand half the time, creating the same good feeling he does wherever he goes, and showing us a few neat tricks too – when it looked like we were about to spend hours searching for the right snare drum sound he came up with an immediate but unorthodox fix: turning it upside down. Now I have a lot of takes to edit, but it’s absorbing work and good fun. Going through things at Brian’s studio last week we got a bit distracted when his cat Kofi started purring in time to the music, so we put a microphone up to his neck and recorded him. The sound was unexpectedly fearsome and according to Brian Kofi is now threatening to go solo.

There were some other sessions this month, starting with David Holmes in Ireland. His new record is about to be mixed and he asked me over to Belfast to put on a few last touches. It’s been about 3 years in the making and has gone through many transformations; I’m very happy for him that it’s nearly finished. Then I went and had a day recording with Guy Chambers (he’s the guy that wrote all Robbie Williams’s songs). He’s doing something of his own, quite experimental, and I had a great time jamming over long funky improvisations in his eye-wateringly well-equipped studio. I brought along my guitorgan, which he specifically wanted to hear, but it broke immediately. I also did some recording at home for an Icelanic artist called Bergmann – kind of epic soundscapey stuff. And I wrote a couple of songs with Florence And The Machine. She had recently suffered a burnt leg and started singing (about her boyfriend) ‘You looked so handsome when you took me to the hospital’, which I thought was a very promising start to a song.

Earlier this week my new record ‘The Unrest Cure’ was released. I had single of the week on iTunes with ‘City Machine’, which was an incredible break and also rather bizarre as I am not accustomed to that kind of exposure. Having KT Tunstall on vocals must have helped! It was somewhat nerve-racking to be exposed to the star-rating system, which of course I couldn’t resist checking, and in the end the song acquitted itself fine – though I had to hand it to the guy who slagged it off in the most economical way possible (‘shitty machine’). It seems like an extremely long time ago that I finished that record, and I’m happy that now it has found its way out into the world. The same week, I finished my new one ‘The Grape And The Grain’, which is an instrumental folk album. A few cello and piano overdubs, a few days mixing, and it was done – after a year and a half of sporadic endeavour. I’m really proud of it, partly because it features the first proper outing for my hurdy-gurdy.

And finally, some American insurance company picked up one of the songs off my first album ‘Honeytrap’ for a tv ad. It’s just 15 seconds of plucked guitar, but these things are quite a blessing. At first they said it sounded ‘too twangy’ so I had to re-record it with a less twangy kind of guitar; then they accepted it, which was a major relief. It felt strange reopening the files on my computer from years ago, but the whole thing was like being given a gift from the past or something, and it made me think that even if I didn’t reach that many people with it, that record will continue to have a life.

Since coming back from the tour I’ve been getting back to what I ike best – tinkering around in the studio. The Brian Eno/Herbie Hancock collaboration is going well; we added some spoken word elements and Arabic percussion, and I’ve been editing and arranging in preparation for further sessions in January. One day at Brian’s studio we got distracted by a clip that I shot in Australia of a Koala scratching its bum. Brian noticed that it looked as if the koala was playing air guitar, so we spent a happy hour putting a soundtrack together and uploading it onto Youtube – here

 The tour itself was, as ever, a combination of euphoria (amazing places, good friends, music) and bullshit (politics, hanging around, gruelling travel). On the last night of the tour Guy Pratt and I decided to go out and buy the cheapest guitars we could find, play them on the last song and then trash them onstage. In Cash Converters the shop assistant eyed us mockingly and asked, “Starting a band are we?” to which Guy replied, “No – finishing one”. The depraved act itself was incredibly cathartic, fun and symbolic in a personal way. Although for a few hideous moments it looked like the guitar wasn’t going to break.

 I’ve had a couple of sessions, for the amazing and up-and-coming Florence And The Machine, and the rather more established Tony Christie. I got to try out my beloved new acquisitions – the Bandura (Ukranian giant zither) and the Guitorgan (demented 60s guitar with an organ built inside of it). The combination of working on great music and at the same time seeming to make people happy is so special, and that is why at times like those I love my job so much.

 Lastly I’ve been continuing work on my folk album, The Grape And The Grain, adding the aforementioned new instruments and writing the last few tracks. Having not listened to any of it for a while, I was relieved to find that I liked everything more than I remembered. It’s interesting the way new tracks shed a different light on older ones. Although with the increasing decimation of the album as an art form I doubt the idea of context has as much relevance as it used to. 

This month started off with a session for a cat food commercial, during which I had to make miaowing noises with my slide tube, to coincide with the lucky feline’s face looming into view. While I was there, for good measure, they got me to do some morris-dancing music too. It was all surprisingly satisfying, requiring a certain amount of precision and a quick response to demands - everything in that world has to be done at light speed, and I left the building feeling pleasantly like a professional musician.

I have been working quite a lot with Brian Eno, helping him out with a really exciting collaboration which he probably wouldn’t want me to discuss. But it involved my taking the master files home, tidying them up, adding drums and guitars, and bringing them back for further tweaks. He has so much amazing stuff milling around in relative chaos on a multitude of hard drives, and today I took away another load of stuff which I shouldn’t mention, to try and edit into shape while I’m on tour next month. Watching him apply effects to a sound is a fascinating experience. He does all the things that a trained engineer would recoil from and deem ‘wrong’ - things most people would not even bother considering. But it invariably comes out sounding marvelous, and typically ‘eno’. And he is just such a sweet, kind , funny (and yes of course, that dreaded word - interesting) man. I also never tire of witnessing him build up his trademark wall of vocal harmonies - no headphones, wandering around the room in front of the speakers projecting his benevolently manly, and above all English, voice.

Apart from that, and quick sessions for Jon Hopkins and David Holmes for their new albums, I’ve been working on a new record - The Grape And The Grain - a follow-up to Honeytrap on Just Music. It has been really hard going, and at one point I nearly deleted the lot, despairing of it and having consulted colleagues and girlfriend with fairly desultory results. But at the last moment I decided it was worth a final effort, and I spent several days locked in my basement studio with only a hurdy-gurdy and piano for company. Eventually things started to come back to life and now, with the sage advice of my dear friend Steve, and a few tracks duly culled, I think things are back on track. For me the lesson has been to not play anything to anyone until it’s ready, and also when things are slightly crap, to admit it to myself instead of trying to hang onto what few good bits there are. And above all it’s been great to be able to spend so much time on my own music, especially when the rest of the year is now spoken for.