"Randy Newman sits at the piano in the London showroom of Steinway & Sons and absent-mindedly tinkles the keys. Fresh off the plane from Los Angeles, the 67-year-old singer-songwriter is fretting that his voice is croaky, that he looks "beat out". "Can you put a little pink in my cheeks?" he asks the make-up lady. Unsatisfied with the results, he calls out: "You don't have any crank, do ya?" There is a peal of laughter in the room – 11am is quite early for crystal meth – and someone suggests piano polish as an alternative. "I know some pretty down musicians who would be quite happy to drink that," he replies"