Chris T-T

Chris T-T is not a man to keep his opinions to himself. And when he voices them, it most often results in someone being offended, outraged or otherwise aghast. His carefully crafted songs about suicide bombers, serial killers, sellotape and sex often get members of his audience riled, and though there have been a few frightening threats, he's never yet been punched.

As The Guardian says, "The genius of Chris T-T's songwriting is his ability to humanise even the most outlandish conceits. They seem instead like brilliant ideas that no-one else could've come up with."

T-T's gift is to tackle life's grand themes, such as war, money, love, sex, and death, and transform them into highly personal, and highly emotional, songs. "I'm an overweight, middle class, white, comfortable, English songwriter," he says. "I've never felt any of these things through personal experience. I've never been bombed, I've never had an Israeli tank driven over me. The only way one can do it is to get into the mindset of individuals."

For a songwriter of such remarkable insight, his upbringing was unremarkably average. He listened to songs like The Floral Dance and Up Up and Away In My Beautiful Balloon on his grandmother's record player. His parents paid for piano lessons and nagged him to practice. He went to a good school, in a good neighbourhood with other good kids.

But, as with most great songwriters, he never really fit in. While T-T was listening to and learning from American rockers like Don Henley, Bruce Springsteen and Lou Reed, he largely missed out on seminal bands like New Order, The Cure and The Smiths until the rave generation had already taken over.

T-T was so oblivious to "cool" that he wanted to be a spy until he heard his first Genesis record. "I was one of those kids that finds the first thing you love about bands is that they're tight. Like when you first love rock guitar and it's someone playing a virtuoso solo. I would appreciate a rock guitar solo at a much earlier age than I'd appreciate someone writing an amazing song." That early passion for intricate guitar meanderings led him away from spy school straight to a career in music.

When T-T approached his parents with the news of his new career path, instead of gently suggesting he become a doctor or teacher, they congratulated him, and gave him money to help fund his first record label. In their minds, the piano lessons were starting to pay off and their support has never faltered. "I can take home a piece of my music that offends my mom, to the point of really upsetting her, and she will still completely support what I do," he says.

After spending three years at Leeds University studying pop music – he has a degree in it now – the inevitable move to London followed. He spent 1999 slogging at a day job, and recorded his first album during evenings and weekends on the cobbled-together not-exactly-state-of-the-art recording equipment in his bedroom.

The result was Beatverse, released in 1999 on his own label, Wine Cellar. It sold fewer than 500 copies, but it taught him not be afraid of being opinionated and brutally honest in his songs. On the album he calls his then-boss a "fat, stupid dickhead" and fesses up to being a serial killer. No one seemed to mind.

Snowstorm Records loved the album and offered to fund the next T-T release. The result was 2000's Panic Attack at Sainsbury's, a mixed bag of pop anthems (You Can Be Flirty), anti-establishment sing-alongs (Dreaming of Injured Popstars) and twisted love songs (Open Books, Exeat).

Dreaming of Injured Popstars captured the anti-manufactured-pop zeitgeist and was played by Steve Lamacq and John Peel on Radio 1 as well as Xfm and others. The album was a critical success. Q Magazine said, “His surreal worldview and faux-naïve vocals define this album,” while the NME wrote, “Those who value the wit and pathos of a singular voice among the Indetikit throng should give Chris T-T their time.”

Over the next few years, T-T became intimate with every venue on the UK indie circuit, driving beat-up vans and sleeping on floors while getting paid next-to-nothing to perform to an ever-increasing base of dedicated fans.

Meanwhile, slowly and almost imperceptibly, London had been seeping into his veins.

His next album, The 253 was the first in a trilogy of bittersweet love-letters to the city. "London is an extraordinary living, breathing entity as a city. London's got that huge identity, it's hugely multicultural. There's so much going on that moving to London was a huge step up in experience," he says.

The album amassed more ecstatic reviews: “Chris T-T celebrates the beauty of small things with lively musical aplomb.” Q Magazine; “Thank God for records like The 253… It is sincerity so sharp it feels like the watery sting in your eyes as the tube rushes past.” Time Out; “His third and best album… The most convincing reason to check out this singular talent.” Mojo. The 253 also