Reproduced from The Express 2 December, 1997

I haven't any mates so I don't do that. When I get back together with Keith we talk about old times.

Keith's uncle Alec was the choirmaster of St Alban's Church. You couldn't join the choir until you were seven. On my seventh birthday, we instantly went into the choir. Keith wasn't seven for a couple of weeks so got into the choir early, which I thought was very unfair at the time.

Keuth never shared my love for trains but we were both keen on speedway; Coventry City Football Club; music - we had a pop group called Tomorrow's Kind at 13 - and girls. Mostly, we ended up with the same girlfriends. I went out with his wife Diana before he did. They have three children. I've been married three times and have four children.

We always hung around together and we're the only two of our group who have stayed friends. We were so close we didn't need anybody else. Throughout our lives it's been the two of us. If I haven't seen him for a long time, it's as if it were yesterday when we see one another again.

Friendship is sometimes about opposites. I wake up in the morning and I have to make £100,000 a month to pay the rent. Keith wakes up and thinks he has to make &163;30,000 a year - that's a week's wages for me.

His feet are very firmly on the ground. As long as he pays the mortgage, the pension and and the bills he's very happy.

I know sometimes I have to invest in a new act. Maybe I'Il get my money back. Maybe I'm going to make £20 million.

I like Keith's stability, his 25-year marriage, his three very clever children who went to university. (I have two boys, Paul, aged 28, and Peter, 15, and two girls, Toni, seven, and Charly, five).

He plays golf and cooks. I can't stand golf - it's a waste of a good walk. I don't envy his very nice, steady lifestyle. I wouldn't want to swap with him because we're different characters and I know I'd never be able to achieve it.

I have to find the next mountain to climb and if I fall off, I have to try again until I reach the top. I'm never satisfied.

Keith and I have never argued. We've never fallen out over anything. There are certain areas we leave alone, like religion. I rebelled against it but he didn't and still goes to church.

Our wives have met. We've gone up for weekends, to Keith's 50th birthday party and his daughter's wedding.

I never want him to be involved in anything to do with my work. He is my refuge and sanctuary outside it.

If everything went wrong tomorrow I would still go to see Keith. If he became a multimillionaire in three weeks because he invented a machine tool that changed the world he wouldn't treat me any differently.

There are few things I wouldn't tell him. But I never talked about the time 20 years ago when I wanted to purge my soul and do some backbreaking work as a coal miner. I went back to Coventry because I wanted a better grasp on life.

I didn't talk to Keith because I wanted to suffer on my own. You don't want to put anything depressing on your mate's plate. That's probably why he didn't tell me he was suffering from a brain tumour.

I called up to ask him to my last wedding, to Denise in 1990. His wife said they'd try to make it but Keith had had a brain tumour removed and was still poorly.

When I asked why they hadn't told me she said: "We didn't want to worry you." If I'd known I would have dropped everything and gone straight to see him but I don't know what I'd have done if he'd died.

We have known a lot of our mates die, reaching 50 and having heart attacks.

But death was always a long way off when we were kids. The sun was always sunnier in 1953 and it never rained.

Pete was like a brother. That's really the relationship we have.

We'd spend hours in the record shop. I remember the first record I bought was the Deadwood stage by Doris Day. Pete was into Tommy Steele and Lornie Donegan I don't think I was particularly impressed. I remember he bought one of the first vinyl LPs, Rock With The Caveman.

When he became so big I felt it was, for some reason, difficult to approach him. Perhaps it was the people around him trying to protect him from the media or whatever. I used to phone him up and get: "Pete'sin a meeting" or "Pete's out". But 30 seconds or a minute later he'd be on the phone saying: "Hello Jacko".

I'm quite comfortable and happy with what I earn. It's not a case of rich boy/poor boy but I suppose money can buy security and things like private medical care.

I drive a Volvo and have nice holldeys in Britain and France. He sometines seems too busy for holidays.

The only thing I envy about him is that he has written some music that might become a standard and be around forever. Nothing I've created will be around, unless someone digs up my tools in a few hundred years.

He doesn't send me records - I don't know why. Sometimes I'd like him to ask: "What do you think of this? Is this good?"

Pete's on a tightrope and could fall off at any minute, whereas I am firmly on the ground with my life. I can relax and play golf, whereas I don't think Pete can.

If I ever had a problem or if he had a big problem he could ring me to discuss it and we condd help each other out. That bond is there for ever.

Whenever he comes to Coventry. he'll ring out of the blue and I'll cook him a meal, like Indian spiced chicken with onion, tomato and cucumber sauce. Going out for a meal is a waste of time, so he comes to our house. There's never any awkwardness about money, about who would buy the first drink because we've known each other so long.

I don't think we're different in character. We're both creative. Our tastes in music are similar. He thinlcs we are opposites but I don't think so. It's our lifestyles that are poles apart. We've built up a strong relationship over 50 years. That's why we've remained best friends.