“But why? You’re doing so well.”

“We’ve been on autopilot for ages, Dad. Just coasting. Pulling in different directions. And it’s getting harder to make a living unless you’re Ed Sheeran or Beyoncé. The music business has changed so much. It’s all streaming now, and the musicians only get a pitiful amount. Even you don’t buy records anymore.”

“Fair enough. But I would if there were any record shops left.”

“That’s what I mean. We’re all sick to death of endless touring, just to make ends meet or promote a new single. There seems to be no time left to write songs or have fun anymore. It’s just constant hard slog, and that’s not what any of us want. I mean, I’m not saying we’re lazy or anything like that, but I am pushing forty.”

“Mick Jagger and Paul McCartney are over seventy. Even Keith—”

“But that’s the point, Dad. I don’t want to end up like them. And we don’t want to end up breaking apart and hating each other, each blaming the other for the mess we’re in. We don’t want to end up like the Beatles or Pink Floyd.”

“Or even worse,” Banks said, “the Gallaghers. So you’re going solo?”

“No. I won’t say I’ll never make a solo album, because I might—I’ve got enough songs in the works—but no. I’m going into the production side.”

“That’s quite a leap.”

“Not really. I haven’t been wasting my time with drugs and groupies all these years, you know. I was interested in the studio stuff right from the start, how it all worked, and I’ve spent time with people who really know what they’re doing. I’ve learned a lot. You might not have noticed, but I produced our last album.”

Banks hadn’t noticed. “Sorry,” he said.

“That’s OK. Most people don’t notice things like that. Anyway, I’m no George Martin, but I know my way around a studio. I understand the equipment, and I have a good idea of the sort of sound I want from a band. It’s hard producing your own music. But with other bands and artists I can see a clearer path. Hear it, more like. It’s a real job at last. I thought you’d be pleased.”

Banks laughed. “I am, I am. But I’m a fan of the band. And you know damn well I’ve always been proud of you and what you’ve achieved.”

“I know, Dad. I was teasing. Anyway, I wanted to tell you before you heard it on the news. And don’t believe everything you read in the papers.”

“Don’t try to teach your grandmother how to suck eggs. I don’t believe anything I read in the papers. Have you told your mother yet?”

“Next. I thought I’d let you know first.”

Banks felt inordinately proud to hear that he was the first family member Brian had told. “And Tracy?”

“You or Mum can tell her if either of you is likely to be talking to her soon. Or I can ring her, too, it’s—”