Sitting at a table in a quiet pub in Highgate by myself, nursing a sullen pint. I’m not wearing any make-up. I am “off duty.” Despite this, a man opposite on a bar stool, stares directly at me for ages. I look away. He suddenly shouts at me, “Are you gay?” I say nothing. A pause. “You look it.” Woman next to him says “Shhh.” The pub becomes quiet again.

This sort of thing happens to me all the time. Dickon Edwards: Celebrating Nearly Thirty Years Of Being Out Of Place.

The whole point of me realising that I have this innate talent for Inviting Comment is that I chose to put this talent to good use, to get it to work for me rather than the other way round. I look like that Dickon man because I am that Dickon man. Somebody has to be. Hence the Fosca lyrics: one one level they are adverts for my own persona, explanations as to who I am and why I am who I am. The records are out there now, and there will be more. The work has only begun. I have too much unfinished business with this world. If only for the sake of providing an answer to strange men in Highgate pubs.