Today, Finley Quaye is a happy man. He is sitting in his local pub in north London, eating someone else's fish-cakes, talking about the books he is reading (one on the Beckhams, the other on Reggie Kray) and, of course, talking about himself. The sun may not be shining and the weather may not be sweet, but this does not bother him. Today, Quaye is the happiest man in all of north London. And maybe south London too. "I'm happy," he confirms with a huge beaming grin, in case there was any doubt as to his state of mind. "I'm happy to chill like this, to talk to you. Right now, I'm with my band, I've got my friends around me. We're all cosy and comfortable with the way things are, studio life, tour-bus life, hotel life. I like having my mates down the corridor, put it like that. Any chance you can get to record music has to be taken with both hands, man. I might be two hours late [smiles] but when I get into the studio, we turn it on."
A happy Quaye seems to be a productive (albeit late) Quaye, so it's no wonder that the chap from his record label is beaming along with his charge and happily foregoing his lunch. After all, it was the happy Quaye who produced the gorgeous Maverick A Strike album in 1997. By the time it had reached a commercial peak (selling some 700,000 in the UK alone), Quaye had strolled off the pop-star radar. While his interviews had always concentrated on somewhat strange themes (in one, he talked incessantly about cheesecake and gave out recipes), Quaye's relationship with the media rapidly disintegrated as his own life came unstuck. Drink, drugs, scraps, a 10day spell in rehab in the Priory, a dalliance with the late Paula Yates, family issues, a few more scraps, court appearances: Quaye became a reluctant resident in the red-tops.
That Quaye has gone through all of that and come out the other side is something of a minor miracle. That he's still around to produce music is, well, interesting. While new album Vanguard is no Maverick A Strike, it does provide a few insights into the mind of the artist in the midst of the storm. Tracks such as British Air Rage and Broadcast may be lyrically daft (the former throws punches at the Manic Street Preachers, the latter eulogises many different varieties of beans) but it's the autobiographical twists and turns in Spiritualized that tell the clearest tale: "Stopped the drinking and stopped the drugs".
Quaye believes that his survival was inevitable. "It was a natural step, of course it was, it was evolution. I'm not into self-destruction. I didn't feel any pressure. I don't fill my head full of memories unless I am asked to. I concentrate on the present, the present more than the future. It's hard to explain but it's a philosophy I have lived by for years. I try to enjoy my day. "What am I after? A sense of living, I suppose, a sense of belonging and maintaining that. I want to live a good life. I want to do good in my life, sure, but I want to have a good life as well. I don't think everybody wants to do that. I suppose I am lucky, my lifestyle allows me to do that." It's obvious from his many asides throughout the interview that Quaye has the means to live a very plush life of leisure. From a swanky apartment filled with every boy's toy imaginable to the pampering and preening which comes with being a pop star, it's no wonder Quaye is beaming.
But perhaps it was this pampering which led to his problems in the first place? There's a pause as Quaye weighs up the question. "I know I have an addictive personality and I know I've tried to hide my problems, to ignore that they exist. It's taken me a long time to get to this stage where I can be cool with things. I now know you've got to recognise what is dangerous and what is cool. And I'm adjusting to my fame."
Fame is something which clearly fascinates Quaye. He may not want it but he does want to be close to it. "I suppose I am interested in how people do use their fame and how they get their fame," he says. "I'm reading the Posh and Becks book and I can imagine what it's like to live across the road from them or to know them or to be in their family but I couldn't imagine what it's like to be them. There's nothing wrong with his [Beckham's] footballing ability, but there are many people who are as talented as him. But then, none of them are married to Victoria Beckham. The fact that they expose the mechanics of their life is a good thing."
The only problem with fame, Quaye believes, is that you need protection. "Look at the Nation of Islam," he begins. "America is a very tough place for any entrepreneurial black man to survive," and when people get to a certain level of success, "they require protection. A lot of successful black people find it with the Nation Of Islam. Now I don't follow or understand their philosophy, but from experience I can understand their need to be there. It's like the Queen Of England, man, she needs protection too. And I needed protection too, which is something I only realised when it was too late. I had to look after myself because no-one else was going to do it for me."
Protection consists of surrounding himself with friends and accomplices which who allows him to get on with his day and his music. "When I was recording Van- guard, I felt really free with my music," he recalls. "I know I can make music which sounds like Can or Brian Eno or Tangerine Dream and that I can go all over the shop with it. I know I can go ambient avantgarde. But when I get in the studio, I'm not trying to sound like any one of those sounds. I know I have the freedom to breathe. I have that freedom as long as I present it well and don't try to make any track 90 minutes long or take the piss. There are a few guidelines you have to adhere to but, beyond that, it's my call. There's no point in being indulgent.
"Sometimes, at home, I do think about making a 90-minute ambient synthesiser record but, to be honest, I have better things to do, I'm not that bored. . . I have to make sure I eat well, I have to do a bit of shopping, get a few bits and bobs for the house, do some oil painting, keep myself in trim and good shape." So he spends his days watching films ("that Hazel O'Connor film, Breaking Glass, is amazing"), hanging out and being Finley Quaye. That said, he will be happy to leave his toys and go on the road. "I like touring," he beams once again. "It's not hard work. When you get on the bus, that's the beginning of the holiday. I like to abdicate responsibility on tour. I love playing good music loud on the bus when we are on the road, like Sepultura or Joy Division, music I wouldn't normally get into. I'm with my friends, and all is right in the world."
Vanguard is out now on Epic. Finley Quaye plays The Point tonight, with Primal Scream