THE MUSIC

This might seem obvious, but hold your horses before you go spouting off about it. Take David Guetta, for example. Now, obviously I’m not the jealous type, but he does play a load of old ballbag. Did you see him at the Euros opening ceremony? Fuckin’ hell. I heard he trousered £200K for that set, which to me sounded like something you’d play at a six-year-old’s birthday party if most of the kids there were high on strawberry snakes. I could have done that gig for about £40K plus VAT – and I would have stuck some bangers in there and at least one tune from this century.

THE EQUIPMENT

It’s all about your decks. And that mixer thing that goes in the middle. And obviously the speakers. But really it all comes down to what “wheels” you’re using. Personally I prefer to use something like – just off the top of my head – the Pioneer CDJ Nexus 900s. You could just as easily go for something like a set of Voxcon XP150s but for me I just prefer the reliability I’m assured of when using something like, I dunno, the Pioneer CDJ Nexus 900 system with its excellent build quality and 25-year guarantee. Entirely up to you, though.

Super Hans and posse.

THE TRANSPORT

We travel everywhere in “The Hansmobile”, which is a long-wheelbased Transit van that used to belong to my bandmate Psychopab’s dad. We’ve tricked it out with an XBox 360 and a sort of mini bar-fridge that we made out of a fishing tackle box filled with ice blocks. We sleep in the van, too, because obviously I’m not used to proper beds. I tried staying at a Premier Inn in Hendon once, but they had to give me a refund in the morning due to their own nonsensical “Good Night’s Sleep Guarantee”.

THE DOWNTIME

People tend to have this weird misconception of me, that life on the road is one big, mad, merry-go-round of non-stop drug-fuelled madness – but nothing could be further from the truth. In March this year, for example, I just stayed in the van one night and smoked a bit of Marley parsley and chilled out to a bit of Springwatch. They were doing a story on wrens. They had a little hidden camera inside the nesting box and the mother wren had no fuckin’ clue she was on the telly, so I got to watch for hours as she flitted to and fro, feeding her young on little grubs and berries. Nature’s amazing, innit? Then a tawny owl ripped open the box and devoured her kids right in front of her face. I mostly go out to clubs now, just to avoid that sort of trauma.

THE SHOW

Again, people might have this preconceived idea of what they’re going to get at a Super Hans show, but I’ll tell you right now: my set is not all gabba, techno and shitty garage. Gig by gig and town by town, Super Hans Alive is quietly going about the serious business of blowing people’s heads off. Where else are you going to hear a big ketty beat laid over the top of Here Comes The Sun by the Beatles? You will dance, you will laugh, you will turn to one another in disbelief and weep tears of pure fuckin’ joy.

Super Hans Alive is at Oval Space, E2, Saturday 22 October; Gorilla, Manchester, Sunday 23 October; touring to 30 November