Francis Rossi talks ahead of gig at Wolverhampton Civic

There’s only one place to start: the death of his bandmate of 50 years, Rick Parfitt. Francis doesn’t mind. He knows he’s got to talk about it, that Status Quo will forever be him and Rick, that their stories and history are forever linked.

And though he’s chipper about being back on the road with Quo – they play Wolverhampton’s Civic Hall on Sunday – he’s dutiful and respectful on the subject of his late, great bandmate.

“It’s been a challenging time and it’s been confusing.”

Rick’s place has been taken by Richie Malone, the band’s new touring guitarist. He’s had a profound effect.

Francis says: “If you’d have said to me this young fella will make a lot of difference to the way the band feels and plays, I’d have said don’t talk rubbish. People said it was all over and we weren’t doing any more show. But things change. I didn’t expect it to happen. We’re enjoying the shows immensely. We’ve just got back from Australia and Dubai and apart from the jet lag that’s been great.

“I’m looking forward to it all. I really did not expect to be in this position or feeling this way.”

He realises he’ll get stick from diehard Quo fans, that they’ll resent him for moving on and not forever wearing black.

“I understand if people are thinking I’m a schmuck. But I don’t want to apologise about feeling good about the band. I don’t know why it’s so good: maybe it’s because there’s something to prove. It’s not the same as it was with Rick, it’s just different. There’s a certain vibe within the band.

“Maybe we’d become complacent. Rick’s health issues were going on for a few years and that made things difficult. Perhaps that happens to all older bands.”

He’s conscious of growing older, of entering the autumn of his career. But he’s proud to be on the road at the age of 68. He’s still got the moves, still got the voice and still loves playing the songs that have stood the test of time.

“It all moves on. The Stones were once the most rebellious band in the world and now they’re 75. They’ve survived.

“I’m sixty-bl***y-eight. But something else is going on. You can tell I’m chipper. My manager is in the desert somewhere. But when I speak with him I’m la la la.

“We’re not sure what’s next. We may do another rock album, which I said I would never do. This business is great at making you go the other way. You say you’re not going to do this and that. As we get older, we’re worried about dribbling, but we go back to being the young person we were. That insecure little show-off in me is trying to prove something.

“I look forward to the gigs much more. That makes me question was I not looking forward to them before. It’s not the same without Rick. It can’t be.”

His memories of Rick’s passing are vivid. “It started in Turkey. As much as he died on Christmas Eve, really, he died in front of us in Turkey. He was on the floor and the medics told me he’d gone. I uncrossed his feet, they were crossed over. I watched what those people were doing to him. Our relationship was well documented. It was frosty sometimes but generally it was quite good. The PA who was with him saved him in Turkey.

“It was really quite horrible what the medical profession did to bring him round. He left the room dead but by the time we were back in London, he was sitting up and having a cup of tea. But then it was clear there was something that was wrong. That was when I thought ‘Oh no’. So we got the new boy in. Rick said: ‘If I kick the bucket, get him in’. We laughed about it, that was the relationship we had.”

The relationship between Francis and Richie took a while to develop. At first, Francis was frosty with the incoming, looking at him as though to ask what he was doing standing in his partner’s place? But the ice slowly melted and the band moved on.

“It happens. We die and everything carries on. I’ve lost two aunts and an uncle recently. As soon as I come out the funeral, I go to the studio and carry on. But the thought was difficult, carrying on. As I said, something happened. Some people think we shouldn’t carry on, but we had to.”

He is amused at the man that he’s become. Once a hellraiser and firmly anti-establishment, these days he sports an OBE and spends time in the garden. “Getting the OBE was a huge honour. If I’m really honest, I don’t feel people like us deserve it. I think the midwife in Leeds does but not us. But we maintain the profile of the honours system. No one really is going to ask the nurse or the milkman what they think – they don’t get the media attention. The fact that Rick and I and various others in our business get them helps to raise the profile of the honours system.”

He’s unsure what the future holds. There may be more records and more tours, though they may take time out in 2018 to reassess and consider where they’re going. If they do tour again, the Black Country and Birmingham will be high on their list of places to visit.

“I’ve said this before but my best friends in showbusiness are people like Roy Wood, Jeff Lynne, Robert Plant and a truck driver whose name I’m not going to tell you – and they’re all from your neck of the woods. Everybody I know from the area is fabulous, genuine. There’s also a couple of rasta guys who do the NEC. I see them occasionally, any of those people I meet, it’s like it was only yesterday that we saw each other. I might not see them for years, but I consider them friends. I feel comfortable around your lot.”