“Sorry, what was the question?” Paddy Casey’s grin is one part impish, two parts flustered. There wasn’t really a question. We’re mid-conversation in Brooks Hotel and he’s talking about how everyone’s on the economic back foot, unless of course, they’d “set up a business that sold satellites to Serbia.”

A few years older but not showing any outward signs, Casey’s good company. There’s just this ‘interview’ rain cloud looming over him. So the apologetic interjections come over the course of a coffee.
“I haven’t done this in a while so I’m out of practice”, or, “Anyway, I’m ranting and rambling on...”
He’s not, it’s just his guard is down. After four years out of the spotlight, gigging quietly, the promo machine whirs into motion. Hot Press are his first piece of business – “Yeah, you get me before I remember how to lie properly!” Perfect.
New album The Secret Life Of... is complete and, with a title like that, surely the ‘Saints & Sinners’ troubadour is ready for plenty of, “So tell me about your secret life...” questions?
“It wouldn’t be a secret if I told you though, would it? It’d be The Well-Known Life Of...”
Can’t argue with that! The five-year gap between his new album and its Addicted To Company (Part One) predecessor suggests Casey’s been slacking but, nope, “I’ve been gigging away. You’ve got to go and do something that will warrant a song. I can’t write to order. I thought a couple of years ago that I had an album but there wasn’t anyone to put it out.”
Was this the once-promised Addicted To Company (Part Two)?
“No, it wasn’t really. It was like, say if you released Star Wars and no-one had gone to see it, why would you put out The Empire Strikes Back? The reviews were good but it didn’t particularly sell.”
It seemed as if Casey was set to take things to the next level. Plans to conquer the US started with an appearance on Letterman and then... not a lot. The issues his old label, Sony, were facing were the chief problem. It’s why he’s flying solo this time around.
“I didn’t know anyone at Sony, they’d all been sacked or given redundancy. And the accountants were making decisions because they were broke. They said, ‘There’s no money to publicise or tour the record, will you go make another one?’ I said no. We’d literally put out a single the week before and I was told there was no more money to push it. I was pissed off.”
He took stock and got busy, writing short stories and songs. The album finally came together in a flurry, with recording taking place in Casey’s kitchen.
“Lyrically, it’s the best thing I’ve ever done,” he proffers, “and lyrics have always been at the heart of everything I do.”
His return was heralded by single ‘Wait’ and a video featuring Paddy driving around in a nun’s habit, with a man-sized penguin riding shotgun. It lead Dustin the Turkey to tweet: “Crusty folkie head in sense of humour shocker!!” Do people expect him to play the miserable, bedsit-dwelling singer-songwriter role?
“I’m a completely different person to what I was,” he reflects. “I don’t have the fear factor anymore. I was always conscious and worried about what the fuck was going on in the world, and why. I tend to think of people as ‘okay’ now. I don’t think in terms of ‘good’ and ‘bad’. I’m older than most of the musicians around, apart from Paul Brady! That shit doesn’t bother me, I reckon you can hold back the tide of old age for a while.”
As father to a 16-year-old girl, he’s still got plenty of contact with the ‘youth of today’.
“She doesn’t mention boys, I don’t ask, and it’s all good,” he grins. “She’s started writing songs and I’ve never steered her away from that. She was mad into punk for a long time. A lot of Japanese punk, which is fucking insane! She’s gone a bit folky, now. I think she’s starting to realise I’ve met a lot of the people she’s listening to so maybe I’m not the uncool fucker I used to be! I like to sicken her sometimes. Broken Social Scene will come on or something and I’ll go ‘I toured with them’!”

The Secret Life Of... is out now on Rimecoat Records.