Although not a celeb myself I have, over the years, rubbed shoulders with rock and pop royalty. I have experienced the vicarious thrill of briefly entering their rarefied worlds. I have seen Blur eating sandwiches. I heard one of East 17 blow off. My mate Gary stood on Lulu’s foot. I thought that today I could tell you about some of my more exciting encounters with fame.

Melissa Etheridge
I used to be in a band called the Bible. We went to Germany for the first time to be on the tele; a sort of Top Of The Pops thing. We were all very excited and star-struck. Here we were, hanging out in the green room with people in the charts and everything. Imagine how pleased we were when Melissa Etheridge came over and said, “Hey guys, really like the new album”. Feeling quite smug that she’d even heard of us we thanked her profusely. “Yes”, she went on, “love what you’ve done with Wally!”.

Me: Wally?
Melissa: Yes, Wally.
Me: I’m sorry, Wally?
Melissa: Wally. Wally Badarou.
Me: Um, we don’t know Wally Badarou.
Melissa: (Pause) So you’re not Level 42 then?

Even now, it hurts a little.

Suggs
A few years ago I wrote some songs with Suggs. I have a lot of time for him; a very clever and interesting man. Our first meeting didn’t go smoothly. I arrived at his house busting for a slash. He directed me to a downstairs lavvy and told me that his work room was on the third floor and to meet him up there. When I locked the door there was an unsettling click. I was trapped. I was stuck in Suggs from Madness’s toilet. My mobile had no signal. There was nothing else I could do. “SUGGS! SUGGS!”. It was a good ten minutes before he came down to rescue me. There was a further ten minutes of door wrestling before I was free. “Why did you lock it?” he asked, “we never lock it”. I felt such a fool.

Elvis Costello
The Bible were recording in Wessex studios. Anarchy In The UK was recorded there. By the way, apart from Sid, I have met all the Pistols. John Lydon held a door open for me, Paul Cook and Steve Jones signed my packet of ten B&H when I was walking to the dole office, and I once had a cup of tea with Glen Matlock. Where was I? Oh yes. Elvis was in the big studio and we were in the little one. There was a shared kitchen. He was there for five days and I was determined to say hello. Unfortunately, when I meet famous people I tend to get overawed and either babble like a chimp on uppers or come over all Marcel Marceau with the stitch. I was too scared to speak to him. On the last day I had a word with myself and resolved to wait in the kitchen and engage him in conversation. I made myself a cheese sandwich and waited. Eventually he came in and headed straight for the fridge. I gathered my thoughts and casually walked towards him. With his head still in the refrigerator he shouted, “Who’s had my fucking cheese?”. Oh dear.

The Noisettes
Two weeks ago my friend Claire was in a jacuzzi with the Noisettes. Unfortunately she drank too much rosé and was sick in the cab on the way home.

Steve Earle
Steve Earle produced the second Bible album. He is one of my heroes. Sadly, while working with us he was a heroin user. I was still pretty ignorant about drugs when he invited me to his hotel room to discuss the recording. The air was thick with smoke. He was, I now know, chasing the dragon. As he hunched over the glowing tin foil I said the uncoolest thing anyone has ever said. “Hello Steve”, I piped, “are you doing some soldering?” He gave me a rather special look.

I could tell you about the time I got diarrhoea in James Taylor’s house or when I dropped my wallet in Rufus Wainwright’s piano. How I once saw John Martin throw up on a car or about the time I was invited to a Paul McCartney party because I wore horn-rimmed glasses. One day I intend to write a book about my life of reflected glory. Four years ago I saw Mark E Smith on a train.