WORST of TIMES

really me. I’d also just become a dad at that point and got married to Stacey, and I thought, “I’m not going to be one of those people that gets married and disappears on tour immediately.” So I decided to knock it on the head for a while.

WORST CHILDHOOD MEMORY?

I’ve gone through some horrible things, but I always tend to come out the other side and go, “I’m lucky.” Nothing terrible really happened to me as a child: any arguments I had with my dad were silly ones about things like the length of my hair. He wasn’t keen on me becoming a musician, but he didn’t stop me and instead cut me a deal. He said as long as I got to the end of my apprenticeship at the Vauxhall manufacturing plant in Luton, I could pursue music and that’s what happened, so there was no big fall-out. He remained happy and chilled right up to his death at the age of 91 about four years ago. My mum, who is 95 soon, is still with us.

WORST MOMENT OF YOUR LIFE?

Stacey’s death in 2018 was an incredibly difficult time for everybody. Very little is known about brain cancers compared with other cancers. She’d been acting strangely, and we couldn’t really understand why. And it took a long time to find out, because she used to have migraines. She kept putting the headaches down to migraines. Even when I was dating her before we got married, she would sometimes say, “Can you come and pick me up, my headache is so bad I can’t drive,” so I’d go and get her and she’d throw up on the way home.

By the time we found it, it was so advanced. The time difference between her being officially diagnosed and passing away was two years, but I think she probably had it for about six years. It was very, very difficult for all of us; in the end the family had a rota to look after Stacey. The second I’d come back off an American tour I’d be knackered but because it was hard for everyone, they’d go, “Right dad, we’re off,” and I’d go straight down to be with her, still jet-lagged. But everybody did the same sort of thing.

We all have to deal with it in our own way, but I think we’re all there for each other. And I’m now with somebody who has suffered a similar loss, so we support each other, which is very, very good.

WORST MOMENT ON STAGE?

Or rather off stage. I did two nights at Sydney Entertainment Centre and the stage the first night was too sticky for me to slide on properly, so I requested that the cleaners clean it. Instead of using a mop and bucket they hired an industrial machine, which polished the surface, so when I did my knee slide the following night it was like an ice rink. I’d done hundreds of knee slides and I knew how to judge the pace, but on this occasion I just didn’t stop. I flew off the stage, flat on my back, straight into a metal barrier and dislocated two ribs. But I got through the encore – the show must go on.

WORST DECISION?

Not writing enough songs. I never liked doing it, but I quite enjoy it now. I find that I can see the imagery involved now, because I’m starting to write music and songs like they are a small film, but when I was younger, I couldn’t get the right headspace and I just couldn’t sit still for long enough. You earn a lot more money from it – not that I’m doing it for money – but I realise now that I’m only earning half what the singer-songwriters earn. But I’ve got enough.

WORST ADVICE?

I wish I hadn’t taken my own advice of making that third album Between Two Fires to please the Americans.

Paul Young will be performing with his band Los Pacaminos at the Forge in London on March 3: seetickets.com