Or a journalist...

"...or a journalist," he laughs.

"But as to the record, well the song "Discount Bottle Shop" was directly influenced by me being in the cab, because I'd stopped and parked right under a sign with the words 'Discount Bottle Shop' on it, and that gave me an idea. But really, being in a cab on long shifts, not making any money...it isn't exactly conducive to writing songs. It's more frustrating than anything, not very creative."

There are times your songs sound at least semi-autobiographical, but there are a number of great 'character' songs like "Wide Streets" and "When Things Wear Out" on the album. Do you tend to have characters in mind to draw upon when you write?

"Yeah, that's certainly true, I love creating characters and putting them in particular situations," Perry replies.

"I mean, yeah, some of it's autobiographical, too, and other stuff I've remembered from movies and suchlike. It's true that it helps to be able to connect with your characters and have experienced some of the things that are happening to them. I love narratives, yeah."

It's also true that your natural Sydney environment - and the less-salubrious districts especially - usually inform your very best songs. In my review, I compared your writing to the likes of Springsteen, Jesse Malin and John Doe: guys who have always plugged brilliantly into the (often mean) streets of their hometowns. How do such comparisons sit with you?

"Oh, I think it's incredible to get compared to guys like those," says Perry, in a voice containing traces of awe.

"I've had a couple of Johnny Cougar comparisons, and I'm not so sure about that one," he continues, "but really....to be compared to Springsteen, Gee...what a thing!"

Perry is of course being far too modest here, as "Meter" has all the hallmarks of a classic. And, in some cases, his songs bite deep into the darkness of many peoples' everyday existences. Take "Some Aches", for example. This chilling, melancholic tale of drug dependancy and youth gone to waste is almost overwhelming, but is it based on a real story and a specific person?

"It's one of those yes and no answers," Perry sighs, taking his time to respond.

"I mean, where I live heroin's a big deal. There's no denying it. She's a real person, yeah, the girl in the song, though I dunno about the guy singing the song. I mean, I come from the part of Australia they don't whack onto postcards, y'know? Redfern's a long way from the Bondi Beach images people have, believe me."

I have not problem believing it. Indeed, references to drug abuse also pepper songs like "Wide Streets" and "Service City", while abusive relationships and peoples' inabilites to sustain them come to a devastating head on tunes like "When Things Wear Out" and "Sandra's On Her Way". Arguably my favourite song of all on "Meter", though, is the closing "Matraville Trees". It's one hell of a song, set partially in a cemetary, and it touches on another awkward subject: homelessness.

"Yeah, well again that one DOES come at least partly from driving a cab around Sydney," says Perry quietly.

"Driving around like that, it's difficult NOT to notice the number of homeless people around Sydney. There are a lot of people in that situation, no matter what anyone wants to say about it. "Matraville Trees" was written deliberately as the last song on the album and it's very much the idea of people trying to have relationships in the face of adversity and in the face of stuff that's trying to make it impossible to sustain those relationships. It's a song about when life falls about and trying to remember a time when maybe your life was a little better."

Indeed. But then "Matraville Trees" is one of many fantastic, resonant songs making up this lengthy 18-track album. These days, releasing such a sprawling record as a debut album is surely courageous, to say the least. All credit to both Perry and Laughing Outlaw for putting it out without compromise. Hell, does Perry even think of music as a career as a result of having the record out at last?

"Oh God, no mate, I don't ever think of it in those terms," says Perry categorically.

"I feel lucky to be able to do it to this extent. I mean if it comes about that I don't have to drive taxis in the future, then great. I really don't have expectations... I really do take it one day at a time. Laughing Outlaw have told me I can make another one, that's good enough for me."

Talking of such vaguely materialistic things, is the rumour you don't have a bank account actually true in such a computerised, non-confidential world? Surely not?

"Well, I gotta bank account now," says Perry, hooting with laughter.

"I didn't have one, that's true, but I got paid $1500 for one show and the guy gave us a cheque, so I had to open an account just to pay it in, y'know. Oh shit, this makes me sound like a fuckin' hillbilly, doesn't it?" he says before we both fall around in gales of laughter.

"It's Laughing Outlaw's attempt to turn me into Woody Guthrie!"

Yeah! That's the way to do it. Ramblin' Perry Keyes! That would look cool on a poster.   Or a record sleeve, come to that. Hey, talking of which: is that the back cover of first Clash album featuring on the sleeve of "Meter" along with the beer and fried chicken?

"Yeah, yeah it is! Congratulations Tim, you're the first person to have brought that up! I thought that was obvious, but it's not something that seems to have stood out," he says, a little surprised.

"The idea was to present a picture of a lonely guy's flat...the only thing is it's actually my flat," he laughs.

"There again, there's always an upside, " he finishes, typically optimistic.

"I mean, maybe now you can send some nice, sensitive girls my way to look after me! Wouldn't that be great, huh?"

Indeed it would Perry.   And if "Meter" keeps on ticking the way it should, then they certainly won't be the only people beating a path to the door of this magnificent singer/ songwriter. Hitch a ride while there's still room in the back.

("Meter" is out now on Laughing Outlaw.)

(www.perrykeyes.com )