James Brown is squeezed into a lift with his mate, promoter Vince Power, slowly ascending toward Power's penthouse. The former Loaded editor is in the middle of a divorce and living at his friend's palatial pad while he ghost-writes Power's autobiography.
Since selling his magazine group, I Feel Good, three years ago, Brown has been busy - penning Power's life story and filming a television series, I Predict a Riot, which debuts on Tuesday on the Bravo Channel. It marks a reinvention of sorts for the enfant terrible of the magazine world, who has never made a documentary before.
The series is subtitled The Modern History of Violent Disorder, but don't let the highbrow title fool you. It may sound like a sociology student's dissertation, but the content is rather more racy, with plenty of titillating footage of mindless violence. 'It's like Match of the Day for riots,' Brown says, relaxing in Power's cavernous lounge, one eye on the giant plasma screen opposite.
With its amazing view and endless hallway, Power's flat must qualify as one of the most glamorous bachelor pads in town - which may ease the pain of Brown's recent separation. 'Divorce is good for your cheekbones,' he says later, holding some publicity shots up to the light, though he looks surprisingly youthful for a man who recently turned 40. The trademark curly hair shows no signs of greying and his elfin features are relatively unblemished; a result, in part, of a life devoid of drink and drugs (in recent years, at least). He has added a few highbrow strings to his bow, even securing a regular berth on BBC2's Newsnight Review. 'I've been able to balance a slight degree of humour with a slight degree of intelligence.'
Bravo is trying to ditch its image as the TV channel of choice for men with a lads' mag in one hand and a can of Stella Artois in the other. That makes Brown, who invented the first and has long since forsaken the second, the perfect front man. But the show is more than an exercise in voyeurism, he says. 'Riots are a spectacle, but it's not "Police, camera, action". We talk to the people who were involved.'
It is a thought-provoking series, he insists, with historical context and intelligent analysis. 'You realise that as a nation we're a pretty nasty bunch. But you see the same pattern - an underlying grievance, a spark, usually an arrest, then a response.' That may not apply to rioting football fans, but most of the content can best be described as civil unrest. 'I met Paul Taylor [who organised the Strangeways prison riots]. He was trying to make a political point about slopping out. As a result, the British prison system underwent its biggest overhaul for more than 100 years. The person who did that report probably got an honour; Paul Taylor got another 11 years.'
Brown enjoyed travelling the country filming, and learning a new trade - 'Not many people get to turn 40 and start a new job' - though there were some hairy moments. 'In Bradford, some kids started shouting "You fucking white bastards", which was ironic because we where interviewing three Asian kids who were telling us there weren't any racial problems.'
Brown was born in Leeds, down the road from Bradford, and still watches his hometown club. After a lifetime creating content for others to enjoy, he claims that Soccer AM, Sky Sport's Saturday morning football show, is the only media he now consumes with any real passion. 'I'm surprised I've never seen a magazine that's made me think "Fucking hell, I wish I'd done that".' He admires The Week and a London-based underground title called Marmalade - he's friends with the editor - but most of the interesting stuff is on the net. 'All the mental people who would have gone into magazines are probably doing stuff online'.
Brown was 'mental' enough in his day, fraternising with pop stars, footballers and Page Three girls. At the height of his notoriety, there was even talk of a Saturday night chat show on Channel 4. But if those shots at genuine fame eluded him, he doesn't seems too unhappy about it.
'When I was in magazines, there wasn't any downtime. That was my whole world, but now my downtime is with my son,' although he sees less of him than he'd like to. 'You shouldn't spend too long away filming because it can be detrimental to your marriage,' he says ruefully.
Since selling I Feel Good he has invented a TV show, Flipside, and advised media groups, helping them to identify new talent or relaunch titles. He has written and produced a film and a couple of sitcoms, one of them with the team behind Peep Show. 'If the BBC had any sense, they'd dig it out.'
He also spent six months last year developing a new magazine, which would mark a return to the publishing world after a long absence: 'It tested really well. It was good. I can't say too much more than that, but we may launch it.' A return to the magazine industry would cause a minor sensation, but it's unlikely to be on the same scale as pervious ventures. 'It's stressful managing a £20m plc with 60 employees when you are 35 with a one-year-old son. It should probably have been more fun. Now I get paid more money for less stress and fewer hours.'
The impending divorce means that he's 'skint' again, but, wandering out to Power's terrace, and the spa bath where he sits and cogitates, he wears the smile of a man who knows he can't complain. 'It's not bad is it?' he laughs.