If I’m taking it easy then I usually get up between 9 and 10 and go straight into the shower. Clothes don’t really interest me, so I tend to wear the same thing all the time.

I guess I got into this job because I wanted to be a musician, not someone who had to worry about what he looked like every day. I’ve got two pairs of jeans, one jacket and six T-shirts, which are made by a mate of mine who’s got a company called Daddy. I don’t need anything else. Having said that, the jeans are wearing a bit, but as it’s coming up to Christmas maybe I’ll get a new pair — who knows?

I’m not a breakfast person. I won’t even think about eating until the hunger pangs kick in later on, so I usually just start pottering around — get the wood for the fire in the sitting room or clean up after the night before. Home is a farmhouse on a hill in Ibiza. It’s about 150 years old and it’s a bit higgledy-piggledy, with low doorways, thick walls and flat roofs. It’s in a pretty rural spot, surrounded by forests, but from my sitting-room window I’ve got an amazing view of the old town, the monastery and the sea. I have my piano and a handful of guitars, and hours can just disappear sitting on the sofa with the guitar.

I spent much of last winter here, writing the new album. I was on my own and it was ideal. Most of the town shuts down at that time, so there was little to distract me except the views and the fire. Luckily, when I bought the place, it had a garden with an orchard at the side. It’s about the size of a five-a-side football pitch and has apple trees, orange trees, avocados, limes and plums, which I planted myself. I’m really into growing trees these days, trying to do my bit for the environment. In fact, we plant a tree for every ticket we sell online.

Luckily I’m not too far from the local village, so at lunchtime I’ll head down and pick up a loaf of bread and a tin of tuna. I might vary it and have a bit of ham or cheese, but that’s about it. I’m pretty basic when it comes to food. And I don’t cook — well, unless you include baked beans on toast. If I put my mind to it I could probably do eggs and bacon, or one of those pastas where you just throw a ready-made sauce over it.

Right now I’m away a lot, what with promotional stuff for the new album and the tour coming up at the start of next year. But travelling is really something that’s second nature to me, as my dad was a helicopter pilot in the army, so we moved around a lot. Then, when I was seven, my parents sent me to boarding school — first to Elstree in Berkshire and then to Harrow. They thought it would be better for my education. The army helped them out with the fees, and again when I went to Bristol University to study sociology. In return I had to pay the army back with four years’ service, so I went to Sandhurst for a year, then spent six months in the Canadian wilderness engaging in full-on war scenarios in tanks, aircraft and on foot. The only difference being we were using laser guns instead of the real thing.

In 1999 I was stationed in Kosovo, where neighbours were killing each other. On the one hand you’re witnessing the worst of humanity, seeing how imaginative humans can be when it comes to violence; on the other, you’re having to remain open-minded and compassionate to all sides. After that I came back to London, and because I was in the Queen’s Life Guards, part of the Household Cavalry, I was one of the guys on horseback outside Horse Guards Parade. My father’s retired now, but for a while we were actually in the army at the same time — only in different regiments.

I’ve been in the music industry a few years now and what I find interesting is that people are so judgmental about what you did before. I’d been playing the guitar and writing songs since I was 14; before that I was playing the violin and the piano. So whatever else I’ve done, music has always been a constant in my life, and now I’m fortunate enough to be doing what I love for a living.

I don’t have a TV or any other gadgets in the house, except for a music system and my music collection — from the 1970s singer-songwriters like Lou Reed, Leonard Cohen, Steely Dan and Neil Young to more contemporary artists like Elliott Smith. He committed suicide in 2003. He was 34. He’d worked with the producer Tom Rothrock, which is why I started working with Tom myself. We recorded and mixed the new album in LA, but once I’d done that, I was able to spend the summer back in Ibiza, which was great, as a lot of my friends and family came over to stay. The island’s great fun and it’s full of creative people, which goes back to the ’60s, when a lot of artists, writers and poets moved here.

In the evenings we’ll usually go out to one of the old Spanish bars for a meal and then maybe head on to one of the clubs. This Christmas, though, I’m back in Hampshire, where my parents live, to spend some time with them and my two younger sisters. They’ve all been so supportive. I don’t think I’d have achieved what I have without them.

Before I go to bed I blow out any candles still flickering, put a screen over the fire and lock the doors. Then I’ll just put my head on my pillow, look out of the window at the night sky and think about how wonderful life is right now.

Interview by Ria Higgins.

Portrait by Nick Cunard

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