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'Back-to-back [shows] on the bus, 650 miles to Austria, straight on stage pretty much after only a couple of hours sleep ’cause the adrenalin won’t let you.

But you come off at 2am, after that last number, and you’re hyped.

And who kicked a substantial cocaine habit seven clean years ago.

'Just gotta stay off the vodka, drink plenty of water.’ Kay puts down his well-thumbed copy of Andrew Marr’s The Making of Modern Britain, greedily sucks down a final revivifying Marlboro Light, runs two jittery hands through his freshly shampooed thatch and gazes around his capacious suite with its views over Lake Geneva.

He grew up the only child of a single parent in 'the business’ – his mother is Seventies cabaret singer Karen Kay. And dare I say it, much as I like being at home, I love the buzz of a new hotel room. 'But then, of course, nowadays you get the biggest hotel room and you don’t wanna party in them!

It’s funk o’clock in Geneva and Jason Kay must rouse himself to go to work.

It’s getting on for most people’s bedtime, but the singer, songwriter, and qualified helicopter pilot is pinballing around his hotel room.

Timekeeping in Switzerland is, of course, punctual.

But when you’re the headline act at one of the country’s rock festivals, it means hitting the night shift.

Tonight, the man known to many as Jamiroquai is top of the bill at the Paléo Festival in Nyon. The promoters know that, if anyone can have 35,000 Swiss dancing on a hillside in the wee hours in unseasonably drizzly weather, it’s the Cat in the Hat. Album sales numbering 25 million and a healthy international touring profile have given him a fortune estimated last year at £35 million.

'This tour here is to set up the brass,’ he says of the band of musicians he’s leading on a short run of European festival dates, 'keep us on our toes, and, yeah, of course, after you’ve just spent half a million f----n’ quid making an album, you know what I mean, it does require you to cook the books a bit again, so that’s kinda the reason we’re out here.’ This breathless sentence, it will transpire, is typical Kay: fast, candid, matey, punchy. He doesn’t mean 'cook the books’, as in fiddle his finances. But that Buckinghamshire manor house, London pied-à-terre, Scottish Highlands bolt-hole, classic car portfolio, Robinson R44 chopper and millinery collection require serious fiscal upkeep.

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