I am not a crier.

In rehearsals. The play is very funny about mothers and daughters, but one of the gags hit a raw nerve.

I put out a song called Monsters on my last album, about my father’s illness – he had stage four chronic kidney disease – and a handful of people offered him a new kidney. People’s kindness really touched me.

When my dog died a couple of years ago. We were in Greece on vacation and a friend was watching her at home, and she was bitten by a snake. We rushed home, but we were too late by a few hours.

I bought a BMW 7 series and my best mate said: “I don’t think you should buy this, bro, it’s too cheap.” And I said: “Let’s live the dream” and put my foot down hard on the accelerator and the bottom of the engine and the gearbox blew out.

Turning my life around. Seeing the level of criminality I was involved with, and coming to the realisation that it was not the life that I should be leading.

To my cousin P, who was one of my best mates growing up. We lost him when we were in our 20s and, before he passed away, I was so busy with this stupid thing called life and a brand new kid. He called me and said: “Bro, I’m not feeling right.” And I said: “Bro, you’ve never been feeling right.” And it always sits on my head that if me or somebody else had been paying more attention maybe things would have worked out different. He had extremely rare bowel cancer and died five weeks later at 27.

Impulsivity. We end up in strange places, like right now – I am in the Middle East.

Want for your brothers and sisters what you want for yourself.

Leafleting for a window company when I was 12. I remember putting them through letterboxes thinking: I’m going to sell drugs, because this is rubbish.