I've never had paparazzi follow me and I rarely get recognised. I dress like a tramp when I'm not working. My hairdresser calls me the Romanian window cleaner. That's just the way I am.

I do know that there are some things that exist in this world that you just can't prove. That could be the case with God or whoever might be up there, but I don't follow any one religion.

Most people in Georgia have a place in the hills for when it gets too hot in the city. We have good friends who own a place by a beautiful little river and the houses are full of hammocks.

I don't cook very often but when I do I try and make Georgian food. I made a hinkali recently, which is like ravioli but is the size of your palm, with meat in the middle and thicker dough.

It started in Georgia. Everyone sings there. I mean, it's all they do. So at eight, I heard a lot of Georgian singing, which is often really complicated, with seven- or eight-part harmonies.

I may be developing aerophobia as I get older, or maybe I'm just becoming middle aged, because I find flying an increasingly unpleasant way of travelling. I would much rather drive than fly.

I'd love to do a food tour of Italy but the next break I'll be having is skiing with my dad in Georgia. He's 58 and only just started skiing, so I'm looking forward to joining him on the slopes.

I mean Georgia, and also Belfast, aren't the most stable places, politically, in the world. But the thing is, in both places, the people were just so kind and so warm and in Belfast so welcoming.

I'm not a huge fan of Las Vegas. It's a fun place to go to play a bit of poker but it's so man-made. And being quite environmentally conscious, I couldn't believe the amount of neon lighting in the city.

I grew up in Georgia where my parents, little brother Zurab and I shared a flat with my paternal grandparents and two uncles in the capital, Tbilisi. Times were hard and the country was racked by civil war.

I did go through a phase of reading a lot of poetry and getting heavily into philosophy and ended up writing things that weren't really in a musical format, which I put to some very electronic-based backing.

When the lights did come on in Georgia and the electricity did come on - you know, 'cause they did for about one hour during the day - we would watch Hollywood films and we'd listen to music from America and the West.

My father longed for a better life for us, and when I was nine he got a job as a heart surgeon in Belfast. It was very bittersweet when we said goodbye to our relatives, and I remember crying my eyes out at the airport.

When I had a mental breakdown I was 26 and the most important thing before that was my work. And I still adore it. But it was all that mattered and everything else was secondary: my relationship, my family, my own health.

But I'll never forget my trip to Las Vegas. I'm a huge rollercoaster fan and we did the one at the Stratosphere, which curls around the hotel, and there's one that dips out from the roof then comes back in. That was intense.

I became this dorky 15-year-old, in my bedroom all the time with crossed eyes, staring at my computer. It was all drum loops, R&B and pop - silly songs that I hope to God no one ever hears. But that's what got me in to music.

When I wasn't touring I'd be really down, then suddenly after a few weeks of crazy travelling - America, a double headline with Ray Davies in Denmark, TV shows here and just partying... Suddenly I had an acute psychotic breakdown.

I grew up eating quite well, even though the idea has got around that my family were terribly poor in Communist Georgia. I think it's partly because we had different standards then - it was tough, but we never truly struggled for food.

When I'm working, I'll often be upgraded to a suite though I don't ask for preferential treatment. I'll be there with a tour manager, my band and various promotions people and the hotel will offer to upgrade one of us; luckily, it's usually me.

I think my biggest achievement is still going out on the road and wanting to make music on the road. It doesn't matter to me that I am still travelling around because I just love everything about it, I love the lifestyle, and I love being on stage.

The Russians invaded Georgia in 2008 and my mum got stuck and had to be airlifted back to the capital by the UN because she'd left her passport at my grandparents. It was absolutely terrifying and it's why I always carry my passport in my handbag now.

There are all these tests that are done on young kids and they all say they want to be famous but I just always felt that for my generation being famous was kind of corny and cheesy. Maybe because fame isn't something that proves you're good at something.

When I do my own makeup, I limit my options: I have one Mac eye colour, a neutral shade with a bit of shimmer, plus eyeliner and subtle mascara. I wear a little foundation and put Laura Mercier concealer around my nose, underneath my eyes and on any dark spots.

I love fruit. One of my earliest memories is climbing trees for figs, and I once got stuck in one when I was six. I could see the biggest, juiciest fig and I climbed up and got it and ate it right there, sitting on a branch. Then I realised I couldn't get down.

The second album was like being on a completely different planet compared to when we were making the first album. ... Even though it was the same musicians, the same artist, the same studio, the same producer, - it felt like a completely different piece of a puzzle.

Norway, for some reason, I find Norway really fascinating, you really feel nature in that country. And then there is somewhere like Japan, which is the most interesting culturally because their whole psychology, how they think is so different to us and how I've grown up.

I used to think being in the West would be incredible and then when I was nine my parents moved us to Belfast. I was initially amazed by little things - in toyshops you could actually play with the toys, the schools were more colourful and there were so many magazines everywhere.

Throughout my 20s it was all about achieving and working as hard as possible. To the point that you don't think twice about working in a music studio with no windows from 11 to 11. And you don't bat an eyelid if you fly four times a week and do promo in a different city each time.

Because of things like 'The X Factor' and 'Autotune', the real art of communicating a song is not treasured any more. But singing other people's songs can be an intensely personal experience. I want the songs to be vessels that people fill with their own imagination, the same way that I fill it with my thoughts and feelings.

Some of the songs are inspired by personal things that have happened. Others have been inspired by other people's stories, you know, like someone that witnesses something and so I tell the story through my own eyes. And some songs are just about how I feel about the world and others about the places that we have travelled to.

I get guilty when I spend money on silly things like clothes and stuff. Having experienced a completely different extreme of wealth, and I don't mean me being poor or rich, I mean knowing that 40 quid that gets spent on a pair of shoes could go a long way for a family in Georgia for a week or even a month, having experienced that, you're a bit more [guilty].

The last verse [In My Secret Life] completely got to me, about how we all have great ideals but in reality we end up conforming, following everyone else. We want to be stronger so we lead that life inside, thinking of ourselves as these great brave souls. I literally thought when I was 15 that I was a musical genius and I could change the world, but in fact you're not and you can't and you don't, and that realisation is almost heartbreaking.

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