5. Even world-famous musicians have identity crises

In my 20s, I had a "Jekyll and Hyde" thing where I wasn't really sure whether I liked the musician in me. Often I would listen to the music I was making and think: "Who the hell IS that person?"

I made myself a promise I would listen to no music and see whether I could survive

So I took a sabbatical in my mid-20s to find out whether I could exist for a year without music. Was it so deeply in my heart and drive that I would just fall to pieces? I studied English instead. It ended up as three university terms, but I made myself a promise I would listen to no music for those months and see whether I could survive.

In fact, I found if there was something just as powerful to take its place then that was wonderful. I was glad I could live without it; that it wasn't just a drug. But of course when I went back and heard my first concert, The Eroica Symphony played by the Brighton Philharmonic, I started sobbing so strongly that people around me moved away. I was so overwhelmed by the power of this music that I hadn't heard for months.

After that year, I had much less of a problem with the Jekyll and Hyde feeling.

6. The bonds you make with fellow musicians will be intense

There are very few professions in which people get to know each other so profoundly. You can get to know very deep things about people without even necessarily knowing their names – let alone what their lives are like. You're often dealing with these difficult, profound, intense truths. You can know a lot of deeply important things about people without knowing any of the normal, trivial things about them.