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It is quite hard to relax in London. I always say I'd move somewhere quieter, but I am a bit of a confirmed urbanite now - it crept up on me without me noticing. I always think that I function quite well on my own, unusually so, but then I'm reminded how important people are to me.

There are a lot of places that I know extremely well. Like, if I were to visit Sydney, Australia, I'd feel very comfortable there. I'm very comfortable in many, many cities.

I always have more fun when I stay in hostels - you just meet so many more people. A hotel makes sense when you're doing work things, but travelling, you don't really get a feel for a place if you're in a hotel. I find it seems to make it all feel like everywhere else.

What makes most people comfortable is some sort of sense of nostalgia. I grew up in a small town, and I could count my friends on one hand, and I still live that way. I think I'll die in a small town. When I can't move my bones around a stage any more, you'll find me living in a place that's spread out and rural and spacious.

When I moved to Brighton from London in 1995, I was struck by what I thought of as its townliness. A town, it seemed to me, was that perfect place to live, neither city nor country, both of which like to think they are light years apart but actually have a great deal in common.

If I'm playing a gig in London, it feels so important. The adrenaline rush here is bigger than anywhere else. I kind of like the pressure that London puts you under.

I think there are people who really love the comfort of their small town, and there are people who feel stuck by it.

I hate going out in Brighton now. It's different in London. People respect you more there.

I mean, I suppose when I'm in London, I'm home so I'm more comfortable.

We all know the place you're in has a big impact on how you feel. How you feel has an impact on the quality of work. Why wouldn't we put a lot of effort into making the place we work as efficient and productive and pleasant as possible?