How does Sunday start? With disappointment – Frasier isn’t on TV at the weekend. The show is perfection. I watch it every morning. Whatever time I go to bed I sleep for eight hours. Once I’m up I call a friend and put them on loudspeaker while I have breakfast in the garden and take a bath.
Recovering from a big night? Not since I stopped partying 10 years ago. Back then I’d still be going on Sunday morning, inviting people round. Drugs make you into a dickhead. The happier I’ve become, the less I’ve wanted to be destructive, transported somewhere else. But it took a few years to no longer feel I was missing out.
Has lockdown changed much? At first I barely noticed it. I live by myself and struggle in groups. I prefer to spend time with friends one on one. It took a long time to learn that I like being alone. I miss touching my family, but daily walks and a weekly shop? That’s just my life.
And if you popped out? I’ve had a lifelong love affair with Brockwell Park, having always lived in south London. Most Sundays I’d go via my favourite spots: Steve’s Café, or Café Provençal, where I wrote a few songs on the first album. I’m devastated to hear both might now have permanently closed down.
You were due to tour this year. Are you still working? Having been away for five years I’m conscious of time wasted, and wanted to perform for audiences this year. Really, though, I always want to be in the studio, so at first when gigs were cancelled I was like, ah well. That faded when I realised how hard it is to be creative: you want to create things which connect to the world we live in, but after this nobody will want to listen to sad music about not seeing friends. I’m going to make a high-energy record instead.
A special Sunday? Playing golf in Palm Springs at sunset after Coachella 2013. It was idyllic. I finally understood why people play. Michael Segalov
Automatic Driver (Tyler, The Creator Remix) is out now on Supercolour Records
