As an elder statesman of UK dance music, Goldie's influence extends far beyond the world of jungle and drum & bass. 30 years on from cofounding his iconic Metalheadz label, his passion for all things music and art is yet to falter.

I'll tell you what mate, you better do a good fuckin' job. I'm sick to death of c*nts wasting my time asking me the same old questions when they'd be quicker cutting and pasting what's already out there. Where's the imagination in that? Anyway, do you want a cup of tea? Lucozade? And take your fuckin' shoes off. Get grounded ya twat."

My conversation with Goldie was a dizzying experience. The drum & bass pioneer's tone veered from humorous to spiritual, facetious to inspired–sometimes within the same sentence–and it required concentration to keep up. Despite coming off the back of three shows in three nights, the 58-year-old showed little sign of fatigue when I arrived at his plush Canary Wharf penthouse. Sage burned on the balcony as he dashed to the bathroom to shave. I perched on the edge of the couch and tried my best to relax.

The previous night's set in Munich was "ridiculous," he told me on his return. "Edinburgh and Glasgow were mental too. Literally climbing the walls at Sneaky Pete's. You've caught me in a good mood so let's crack on. Where's the recorder?" He took my dictaphone and balanced it on his chest as he settled down into an armchair.

Three sets in three nights is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to Goldie's perpetually busy schedule. The previous week, he appeared at London Fashion Week, enjoyed a whistle-stop tour of Berlin and even performed a rendition of his magnum opus debut album, Timeless, at Ronnie Scott's in London's West End, backed by a five-piece live band. With waiters darting from table to table serving scallops and steak frites to a seated audience, the legendary Soho jazz bar felt like a far cry from the sweaty basements in which he cut his iconic gold teeth. But Goldie–assuming the role of rockstar frontman–commanded the room like it was his natural habitat.

This feature is part of Goldie's guest-curated series in October, celebrating 30 years of Metalheadz and UK Black History Month.

"I must've been the first person to headline Ronnie's who doesn't play an instrument," he said, reflecting on the performance with a wry smile. The morning after the show, he woke up at 7 AM and drove straight to Mina Road Tunnel in Bristol to satisfy another of his long-standing artistic passions: graffiti.

"I met up with eight of the boys and we painted all fuckin' day," he gleamed, rifling through the photos on his phone until he arrived at a troupe of middle-aged street artists standing proudly in front of their finished piece. "Ten hours of painting. I still love it dearly."

For an artist in the twilight of his career, Goldie continues to maintain a diverse, unrelenting timetable of creative endeavours. This begs the question: where does he find the energy and motivation? Many artists who've achieved far less have opted to wind things down long before they reach Goldie's age. What is it that keeps him firing on all cylinders? "It's the yoga," he said matter-of-factly. "I think I'd be dead without the yoga. It's kept me alive."

A healthy addiction to Bikram yoga is one of the defining characteristics of Goldie's middle-aged renaissance. He also spends most of the year living in a remote, idyllic part of Thailand, embracing family life and side-stepping the exhausting celebrity status that had begun to burden his time in the UK.

"Reinvention is everything," he said. "That's something Bowie taught me. But I love it over there, no twat knows me for a start. They call me 'Mr Fạn Thxng,' which means 'Mr Gold Tooth Man.' I also have space to paint and get to hike in these amazing mountains. I've just done 40-odd shows over here, now I'm ready to go back and relax."

As an elder statesman of UK dance music, Goldie's influence extends far beyond the world of jungle and drum & bass. 30 years on from cofounding his iconic Metalheadz label, his passion for all things music and art is yet to falter.

I'll tell you what mate, you better do a good fuckin' job. I'm sick to death of c*nts wasting my time asking me the same old questions when they'd be quicker cutting and pasting what's already out there. Where's the imagination in that? Anyway, do you want a cup of tea? Lucozade? And take your fuckin' shoes off. Get grounded ya twat."

My conversation with Goldie was a dizzying experience. The drum & bass pioneer's tone veered from humorous to spiritual, facetious to inspired–sometimes within the same sentence–and it required concentration to keep up. Despite coming off the back of three shows in three nights, the 58-year-old showed little sign of fatigue when I arrived at his plush Canary Wharf penthouse. Sage burned on the balcony as he dashed to the bathroom to shave. I perched on the edge of the couch and tried my best to relax.

The previous night's set in Munich was "ridiculous," he told me on his return. "Edinburgh and Glasgow were mental too. Literally climbing the walls at Sneaky Pete's. You've caught me in a good mood so let's crack on. Where's the recorder?" He took my dictaphone and balanced it on his chest as he settled down into an armchair.

Three sets in three nights is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to Goldie's perpetually busy schedule. The previous week, he appeared at London Fashion Week, enjoyed a whistle-stop tour of Berlin and even performed a rendition of his magnum opus debut album, Timeless, at Ronnie Scott's in London's West End, backed by a five-piece live band. With waiters darting from table to table serving scallops and steak frites to a seated audience, the legendary Soho jazz bar felt like a far cry from the sweaty basements in which he cut his iconic gold teeth. But Goldie–assuming the role of rockstar frontman–commanded the room like it was his natural habitat.

This feature is part of Goldie's guest-curated series in October, celebrating 30 years of Metalheadz and UK Black History Month.

"I must've been the first person to headline Ronnie's who doesn't play an instrument," he said, reflecting on the performance with a wry smile. The morning after the show, he woke up at 7 AM and drove straight to Mina Road Tunnel in Bristol to satisfy another of his long-standing artistic passions: graffiti.

"I met up with eight of the boys and we painted all fuckin' day," he gleamed, rifling through the photos on his phone until he arrived at a troupe of middle-aged street artists standing proudly in front of their finished piece. "Ten hours of painting. I still love it dearly."

For an artist in the twilight of his career, Goldie continues to maintain a diverse, unrelenting timetable of creative endeavours. This begs the question: where does he find the energy and motivation? Many artists who've achieved far less have opted to wind things down long before they reach Goldie's age. What is it that keeps him firing on all cylinders? "It's the yoga," he said matter-of-factly. "I think I'd be dead without the yoga. It's kept me alive."

A healthy addiction to Bikram yoga is one of the defining characteristics of Goldie's middle-aged renaissance. He also spends most of the year living in a remote, idyllic part of Thailand, embracing family life and side-stepping the exhausting celebrity status that had begun to burden his time in the UK.

"Reinvention is everything," he said. "That's something Bowie taught me. But I love it over there, no twat knows me for a start. They call me 'Mr Fạn Thxng,' which means 'Mr Gold Tooth Man.' I also have space to paint and get to hike in these amazing mountains. I've just done 40-odd shows over here, now I'm ready to go back and relax."

As an elder statesman of UK dance music, Goldie's influence extends far beyond the world of jungle and drum & bass. 30 years on from cofounding his iconic Metalheadz label, his passion for all things music and art is yet to falter.

I'll tell you what mate, you better do a good fuckin' job. I'm sick to death of c*nts wasting my time asking me the same old questions when they'd be quicker cutting and pasting what's already out there. Where's the imagination in that? Anyway, do you want a cup of tea? Lucozade? And take your fuckin' shoes off. Get grounded ya twat."

My conversation with Goldie was a dizzying experience. The drum & bass pioneer's tone veered from humorous to spiritual, facetious to inspired–sometimes within the same sentence–and it required concentration to keep up. Despite coming off the back of three shows in three nights, the 58-year-old showed little sign of fatigue when I arrived at his plush Canary Wharf penthouse. Sage burned on the balcony as he dashed to the bathroom to shave. I perched on the edge of the couch and tried my best to relax.

The previous night's set in Munich was "ridiculous," he told me on his return. "Edinburgh and Glasgow were mental too. Literally climbing the walls at Sneaky Pete's. You've caught me in a good mood so let's crack on. Where's the recorder?" He took my dictaphone and balanced it on his chest as he settled down into an armchair.

Three sets in three nights is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to Goldie's perpetually busy schedule. The previous week, he appeared at London Fashion Week, enjoyed a whistle-stop tour of Berlin and even performed a rendition of his magnum opus debut album, Timeless, at Ronnie Scott's in London's West End, backed by a five-piece live band. With waiters darting from table to table serving scallops and steak frites to a seated audience, the legendary Soho jazz bar felt like a far cry from the sweaty basements in which he cut his iconic gold teeth. But Goldie–assuming the role of rockstar frontman–commanded the room like it was his natural habitat.

This feature is part of Goldie's guest-curated series in October, celebrating 30 years of Metalheadz and UK Black History Month.

"I must've been the first person to headline Ronnie's who doesn't play an instrument," he said, reflecting on the performance with a wry smile. The morning after the show, he woke up at 7 AM and drove straight to Mina Road Tunnel in Bristol to satisfy another of his long-standing artistic passions: graffiti.

"I met up with eight of the boys and we painted all fuckin' day," he gleamed, rifling through the photos on his phone until he arrived at a troupe of middle-aged street artists standing proudly in front of their finished piece. "Ten hours of painting. I still love it dearly."

For an artist in the twilight of his career, Goldie continues to maintain a diverse, unrelenting timetable of creative endeavours. This begs the question: where does he find the energy and motivation? Many artists who've achieved far less have opted to wind things down long before they reach Goldie's age. What is it that keeps him firing on all cylinders? "It's the yoga," he said matter-of-factly. "I think I'd be dead without the yoga. It's kept me alive."

A healthy addiction to Bikram yoga is one of the defining characteristics of Goldie's middle-aged renaissance. He also spends most of the year living in a remote, idyllic part of Thailand, embracing family life and side-stepping the exhausting celebrity status that had begun to burden his time in the UK.

"Reinvention is everything," he said. "That's something Bowie taught me. But I love it over there, no twat knows me for a start. They call me 'Mr Fạn Thxng,' which means 'Mr Gold Tooth Man.' I also have space to paint and get to hike in these amazing mountains. I've just done 40-odd shows over here, now I'm ready to go back and relax."