This man, in his own words at the Shepherd’s Bush Empire tonight, declared himself ‘as soft as a bag of tits’. As expressions go, I’d say it was one of the most bizarre I’ve heard but to be honest, he can say what he damn well likes because he’s a genius.

I’ve raved about him before……and before that too and I am about to do it for a third time.

You see, I cannot imagine how it would be possible to have more pleasure for fifteen quid than this. Anything that could give you more pleasure is, in my view, the sort of stuff that costs everything and nothing all at once, like love! I defy anyone to pitch up at a gig of his and not go away thinking that pound for pound it’s better than the best.

Strangely he also said (and I DO love musicians who chat with the crowd as they go), that he was shocked at a sell-out gig because he couldn’t imagine why anyone other than his Mum would ever listen to his stuff. This is to me like saying I can’t understand why anyone would want to breathe.

OK – OK enough of the superlatives; let’s try to explain – because I’m sure there are still many who’ve not heard his stuff. There are layers and layers of extravagant guitar, a rich voice of molten dark chocolate cascading round the place and songs that make you want to er, well, you know – do THAT!

I can’t imagine any possibility that you would fail to get lucky in love if you slipped onto the record player a copy of Lowedges and quaffed a bottle of the red stuff with your loved one. In fact, if you’re single and thinking ‘drat, how can I get all of that pleasure?’ Let me suggest an alternative. Go and buy ‘Feast’ by Nigella, find that bloody amazing cheesecake recipe, make it, then consider the cheesecake as a suitable alternative to a lover - red wine, Lowedges, bob’s your uncle……though without wanting to sound smug, it’s not going to get quite as good, but I assure you it will still hit a few good spots.

So, you may or may not realise I am talking of Richard Hawley. A man who I knew nothing about until a chance encounter a few years ago with a copy of Q (see the above links – it’s all explained there). I still know nothing – (sorry Richard) but I don’t fancy him, that’s not what this is about – BUT he is a man of enormous beauty.

All I can tell you is he was guitarist in Pulp, though I believe as a session man, not a formal band member. He’s got a wicked sense of humour. He’s from Sheffield, which is a place I’m actually quite fond of in a strange way…..and not for Meadowhall, but for the rather glorious architecture of its more affluent past. He is a Wednesday fan and therefore falls into the category of a real footie fan and a hero for supporting a ‘proper’ team. Finally he’s married, with kids and he takes them on holiday (and I know it’s more than once because he has done this year and last) to Cornwall.

More importantly his wife must be a wonderful woman because she apparently inspired ‘the Ocean’, which is so good it hurts and he wrote it on Porthcurno beach (which is the beach where the sand for the Minack came from) I believe so I rest my case, the man is a genius!

Cold, cold, cold last year!