Katja’s interview with me in the sky-high restaurant took in Dorian Gray-isms in music, the innate tragedy of the aging songwriter chained to playing his hits of yore, young words from an old face. Though in the case of Prince and his concerts this year, he really does appear to have a picture in the attic too. I discussed how Dorian Gray refers to Huysmans, and how Wilde was already famous before he had a book out. In fact, I think I talked more about Oscar Wilde than I did about myself or my own work. Katja writes for two websites: www.digfi.com and www.thejetsetjunta.se.

From there it was off to the venue, Debaser, for soundchecking. Debaser is a small franchise of indie clubs: two in Stockholm, one in Malmo. I guess the equivalent might be the Popstarz / Ghetto clubs in London. The one for the gig was below street level, by a section of the harbour. The main entrance is on the left in this photo, under a canopy. I think it may be the same place I played on my first trip to Stockholm in December 1999, with Spearmint:

‘Debaser’ is a Pixies song. Inside, you could buy cocktails named after other songs by the Pixies. ‘Barman, give me one Monkey Gone To Heaven, one Planet Of Sound, and a Broken Face for my husband.’

I noted from the club’s flyer that Friday Bridge was mistyped as ‘Friday Brigade’. Still, they got my name right:

Also noted Fanfarlo on the listings, whom I last saw playing in Nambucca on Holloway Road. Photo Niklas told me about another band on the listing called Bold Faces. They’re all graphic designers who sing songs entirely about the world of graphic design. ‘I Hate Copperplate Sans’ being one.

A journalist from an arts magazine called ‘00TAL‘ was there. She’d seen the newspaper piece and wanted to book me for their literary event in Stockholm next month. I could sing songs, or read prose, or both. Didn’t take long to say yes. So this might happen on Nov 30th.

The club night at Debaser is run by two sweet and boyishly handsome young men who happen to be identical twin brothers. I was caught out by this, and when the second twin arrived and introduced himself, I said, ‘Um, didn’t we do this a little earlier?’ They were very nice about it.

There was also a cool bob-haired girl engineer who seemed to walk in slow motion between the stage and her control booth, in the way some cool people do. I think it helps if you’re Swedish. I wouldn’t say Swedish people are necessarily any more or less prettier or cooler than the English, but there’s a certain sense of Nordic stillness and detachment that definitely appeals. Even the most crowded streets in Stockholm are without the air of rush, paranoia and tension that you can sense in Oxford St or Camden at the weekend.

I soundchecked the four songs I’d been requested to perform with the elegant electro-Baroque duo Friday Bridge, consisting of Non-Photo Niklas and Ylva the wonderful FB singer, who also designs the sleeves for the record label. The songs were ‘Pigeon’ (the album version of which I sang on, via Tom’s studio and the emailing of sound files), ’21st Century’, a version of Fosca’s ‘It’s Going To End In Tears’, and a uniquely haughty version of the Happy Mondays’ ’24 Hour Party People’.

The day before, while practising the songs by myself back in Highgate, it suddenly occurred to me that ‘Tears’ would sound fantastic covered by the band Client. So I emailed Kate Holmes (aka Client A), whom I’m slightly acquainted with, and told her so. Probably unlikely they’ll do it, but it was one of those ideas that demanded to be passed on.

Even though I’d spent the entire flight going over them, the lyrics still weren’t sticking in my brain. It was likely I would have to have the lyric sheets onstage with me, as I often do for Fosca. Normally, I don’t need to check them. It’s just nice to know they’re there. The trick is to memorise lyrics so they’re second nature. Once you even have to stop and think about what to sing, you’ve had it.

I did reach the second-nature point with the Friday Bridge songs, but typically it only happened two days after the gig, when I was back in the UK. Couldn’t get them out of my head by that point.