SUPER HANS, played by Brighton-based actor Matt King, is the unpredictable cult figure of much-loved television comedy Peep Show.

Following the lives of Jeremy Usbourne (Robert Webb) and Mark Corrigan (David Mitchell) at close quarters as they navigate the ups and downs of London life, the programme’s ninth and last series was broadcast last year.

Super Hans, a lank-haired, misguided electronic musician, has an addictive personality and has battled drug addiction. He attempted to kick his habit and get clean at the start of the last series, only to relapse dramatically on his stag do. A marriage, to a woman named Molly, ultimately collapsed.

Before a solo DJ set in Brighton, Hans spoke to EDWIN GILSON about times old and new.

Hi Super Hans, good to talk to you.

Thanks. I do love The Argus because of your brilliant A-board headlines like “Window Cleaner Killed By Giant Pencil”, “Kitten Chokes on Mouse" and my all-time favourite “Balls of Fat Found on Beach”. Hats off to ya, seriously.

We know about your various musical ventures over the years. Why are you now inclined to go it alone with a DJ tour?

Well, I’m a one-man band at heart to be honest. What I mean is I’m a lone wolf. I’m not literally a one-man band. Anyone who straps cymbals to their knees and plays a penny whistle with their nostrils should be sectioned.

What’s on the tracklist – a mixed bag?

Mixed bag is right. Where else are you going to hear a mega-beefed up version of Bowie’s Let’s Dance mixed with Run The Jewels going into I’ve Got The Power by Snap? Nowhere else, that’s where. You’ve never heard anything like it in your life. I can promise you that or you’ll get your money back (NB this is not legally binding).

What’s the current status, if there is one, for your projects with Jeremy? Is the reality of the music industry still proving a tricky obstacle to your obvious potential?

Jeremy Usborne you mean? I dunno. Someone told me they saw him and Curse These Metal Hands playing in some pub in Leatherhead. But let’s face it, without me it’s not really CTMH anyway – so my lawyers will be looking into that.

Do you ever think, with the setbacks you’ve had, that you might jack in the music once and for all? Is it the love of the art that keeps you going?

Let’s get something straight. I will never, ever give up on music – because I’m destined to become a massive star. After all, my middle name is Big Beats. Literally. I changed it by deed poll in 2007.

When we last saw you, you were voicing plans to set up a moped hire business in Macedonia. Has this happened? Are you getting much business?

I’m not sure how au fait you are with the vagaries of trying to operate a moped rental business in a former communist country but it’s not all cup cakes and tinsel I can tell you. Let’s just say, my main investor turned out to be a bad man. He had a pet wolf and lit his fags with a flame-thrower. Basically, I had to leave the country sharpish and to this day I have no idea as to the whereabouts of any of my seven Honda C50 mopeds or my best mate Wadey.

Are there any regrets on your behalf about the breakdown of your relationship with Molly?

Who?

Did she try to change you too much, ultimately?

Who’s this we’re talking about?

Never mind. Have there been any more attempts by you to try and kick the excess and get healthy? Obviously that was the plan before it all went to pot on the stag do.

I’m still right into my juicing. A good wake-up smoothie recipe is: one ripe avocado, two raw eggs, a handful of raw kale, the juice of half a lime and about a level teaspoon of speed.

Do you ever get concerned about the future, that you lack a long-term plan for yourself, or are you largely happy to take every day (and new venture) as it comes?

Long-term plan? I think I’m quite Buddhistic in the sense that I don’t know what I’m going to be doing eight seconds from now. I might just suddenly get up and walk out of this interview like the Bee Gees or Tracy Emin or that guy from The Ordinary Boys. I’m joking. I wouldn’t walk out on you. You’re very pretty by the way.

Thanks. Are you still in contact with Mark and Jeremy? If not, do you miss them?

To be honest I’m not really a “missing people” type of person. When its over its over and I tend not to look back. I’d imagine they’re still sat on that creamy elephant of a sofa harping on about how they’re not massively successful and loved by the nation like me. I dunno, one day we might get the band back together, but until then we’ll have nothing to do with each other, like the boys from Oasis pretend to do.

Will they continue to live together, or are both getting a little tired of that situation in their mid to late-30s? That seemed to be the case when we saw them last.

I’m not their dad.

Talking of being a dad, how are your twins? Will they follow their old man into music, do you think?

The twins are great. I see them regularly. Either I pop over to Dusseldorf every eight or nine months or they Skype me when legally obliged. They’re good boys – but like any amazing father I do worry about them. Wilhelm’s quite shy and doesn’t really like Skyping – but his brother Klaus is a little diamond.

We have a laugh. He doesn’t speak a lot of English and my German’s a bit rusty but when he calls me the little pet names he has for me, like Arschloch, I know exactly what he means.

Finally, what can we expect when we come to see Super Hans Alive, as you’re calling your set?

Majesty, pure majesty. And Big Beats. You will dance, you will laugh, you will turn to one another in disbelief and you will weep tears of pure joy. And then, three days later, with your ribcage still rattling from the bass, you will smile wistfully at the memory of what you witnessed on that unique and magical night when Super Hans came to (INSERT NAME OF TOWN HERE).

Super Hans, Concorde 2, Madeira Drive, Brighton, Tuesday, October 18, 7.30pm, £15 + BF, 01273 673311