What qualifies a man to be classified as a Radical Gentleman? "The only qualifications are 'that the Gentleman will by no means admit that a tin bell is an organ,' 'that he wear a black wig which is fixed to his head by means of a tack,' and 'that he be eight inches tall' like his namesake from The Punch and Judy Show. He must let Punch hit him on the head a lot. At least till his wig falls off."

Did you search high and low for these Radical Gentlemen, or were they masquerading before your very eyes? "I found them in various touring puppet shows round America. Kevin Jarvis (drums) and Robert Lloyd (keyboards) played with me in the Deceivers of 1991, Kirk Swan (guitar) in 1997, and Chris von Sneidern (bass) produced a couple of albums of mine during the G-Folk scare. When you come to see the Radical Gentlemen, though, you are in the capable hands of qualified professionals--know that it is you who are ultimately pulling the strings."

Describe your alter ego, St. Ace. "St. Ace, my alter ego, is the Patron Saint of Lost Causes, and of the playground, of broken guitar strings, and the Minus Five. He said, 'Give me chastity and moderation, but not yet.' He is to John Wesley Harding what the Thin White Duke was to David Bowie. He inspires me to refer to myself in the third person. He doesn't exist and is a small piece of punctuation inserted into my real last name."

What was it like to be a guest on a late-night network talk show? "The other guests are always as disappointing to me as I'm sure I am to them--they were probably hoping I'd be Prince, and I was hoping they'd be Sophia Loren. On Letterman, the other guests were Lisa Matthews and the Amazing Kreskin. On Conan, it was Amber Valetta. And on Leno, Phil Hartman and a child actor whose name eludes me--but only one of them is still alive. The hosts are taller than you can imagine. The people at these shows are very friendly and your music bit is done very quickly. And then by the time you watch it later that evening, you're very drunk."