The summer before last I was attacked while walking home through the wilds of London's New Cross. The muggers got seven quid and a very strong pair of glasses. I got concussion, a night in hospital and a small but useful wodge of cash in compensation. In the coming weeks, while lying on a mate's sofa spoon-feeding my brain cartoons, I decided to spend the money on making my first album. So, I rented an old radio station near my house, bought a computer and a couple of microphones, had my piano tuned and set to work.

My first album, Domestic Dramas, was launched in November 2007 at the Roun... (+) expand

The summer before last I was attacked while walking home through the wilds of London's New Cross. The muggers got seven quid and a very strong pair of glasses. I got concussion, a night in hospital and a small but useful wodge of cash in compensation. In the coming weeks, while lying on a mate's sofa spoon-feeding my brain cartoons, I decided to spend the money on making my first album. So, I rented an old radio station near my house, bought a computer and a couple of microphones, had my piano tuned and set to work.

My first album, Domestic Dramas, was launched in November 2007 at the Roundhouse in Chalk Farm. The show featured Jamie Morrison from The Noisettes on drums, eighties legend Rick Astley on acoustic guitar and a stage full of washing. The punters enjoyed cups of tea and Battenberg cake while we regaled them with a handful of carefully crafted kitchen-sink dramas.

Since the album launch I have been gigging in an around London. I recently joined the artist’s collective Raison D’Etre and have been experimenting with how best to play live as a one man band, looping a cajon (a wooden box that replicates many of the sounds of a drum kit) and vocals live on stage.

I hope the songs are raw, passionate, and just occasionally funny. And, most importantly, that they tickle you in all the right places. Cheers, Rob (-) collapse