As we talked more and more that autumn weekend in one of the most sensual cities in the world, we finally came up with the words to define the concept of this new band. Imagine the work of the great photographer Helmut Newton and set his photographs to music - that was how it must feel. With Danny and William in mind as producers and players, we sketched out the ideas for half a dozen more song titles before flying back to London.

We sent the lyrics for “What do You Know?” to the boys in Manchester. Days later a cassette arrived in the post with a brilliant recording of the song.  Danny had put down a rough vocal in his celestial voice and it was perfect, better than we could have imagined and we felt a huge sense of relief and excitement. We had something.

Christmas came and at the beginning of the new year, completely inspired, we went up to stay in Manchester to work on two or three more songs, Fuck of the Century and The Hunger. We stayed at the Post House just off Wythanshaw Park, writing lyrics in the morning and then driving around the motorway ring road to Salford where the boys lived and had a small studio. Fittingly Oasis were just really beginning to happen and we drove along with the sounds of “What’s the Story” blasting out of the car stereo most days, which was equally inspiring in it’s own way, a reminder of what English music sounded like at it’s best.

We were growing very fond of Danny and William and their young families, and every day spent in that little studio in the basement of Williams house was a joy, as the music and friendship between the four of us evolved. Danny recorded more vocals and we all worked on the new songs. We loved the music, listening to it over and over again on the drive home to London each weekend. We had such high hopes. We soon returned to Manchester again and easily completed the 10 songs for the album with that real sense that we had something special.

Back in London we now had the music, but the next problem we faced was how to get it out there.

We were on the cusp of the social network revolution, but it was still too early for Napster and still too early for us to go it alone.  The dinosaurs that controlled the industry still had all the power to make or break a band.  You couldn’t even burn a CD yourself in those days. Burning one CD required a trip to a specialist studio and for about £50 you could come out with a single disc. No chance of pressing up your own albums then and selling them at gigs yourself. No Myspace yet either.

The most important thing at that point was to play gigs.

I tried again the old trick that Malcolm McLaren had taught me back in the punk days, and which I had so successfully applied to Sputnik’s launch.  Set up your own gigs in unusual places where no one else had played.  Great, I thought, third band in and by now I know how to do this. I was also determined that this elegant, sophisticated band would not be playing the gig toilet circuit I had finally managed to leave behind after all those years.  I can see now that was unrealistic - that we went too far the other way.

Danny and William came down to stay with us at the mews because we needed to rehearse the band.  I too had a studio in what had formally been the garage, but was now a huge, sound-proofed space.

There was Danny on vocals, William on keyboards, we found a brilliant female drummer, Claudia Cujo, and her friend Tina von Hyden was the second keyboard player.  It added another element to the band that they were both stunningly beautiful.  And there was me on bass. The only problem was we didn’t have a guitarist.  I still ask myself to this day, why oh why did I not play guitar back then instead of staying on bass?  All those great guitarists who had lived with me over the years, all those incredible teachers and it never occurred to me to make the switch.  It took Mick Jones to suggest that change of instrument some eight years into the future when we formed Carbon/Silicon.