Robbie Robertson: The Man Who Knew Too Much

SILLY ME. I assumed that I would be interviewing Robbie Robertson in the quaint Kensington mews flat that I had been sent to. But instead of the bijoux bedsit I was expecting, the front door leads straight into a spacious garage. Several doors, a twisting passageway and a long walk later I'm suddenly in the elegantly appointed basement of a sumptuous townhouse in the next street. And there is Robbie Robertson on the sofa, clad in the suave black favoured by superannuated rock stars that also matches his fulsome head of jet-black hair. His craggy face now reflects his Mohawk North American Indian ancestry on his mother's side.