It’s 8.30am in LA’s Laurel Canyon, and in his crimson-walled, book-lined living room, Rufus Wainwright is fitting me into his manic week. He asks if he can turn off the camera to collapse as he relates what’s ahead: New York for the weekend, Stockholm to sing in a production of his 2009 opera Prima Donna, then “zipping it” over to Wales, where he once produced an album and had a night out he will only describe as “wild”. “Going to gay clubs in Cardiff was quite the journey,” he says, his tone twinkling.
To top it off, he’ll then play at Llais, a week-long celebration of storytelling and singing that forms part of the city’s wider Cardiff Music City Festival. It sounds knackering, I say. “I’m just living my showbiz life!” he responds, full of beans.
