In most memory banks Curtis Stigers is an overly handsome M.O.R ballad singer with flowing locks and a gleaming saxophone. There may also be details about a hit single called I Wonder Why and an appearance on the multi-million selling soundtrack to The Bodyguard - both of which seemed to secure his place at the main table of the US mainstream.
But that was then and Curtis Stigers is now a very changed man indeed. Not only has the mane gone, so too has the media persona in which he was once trapped. That dazzling corporate dream is also over, and he couldn't be happier. He lives in upstate New York with his wife Amy, his new baby Ruby, a guitar and a sax.
And it turns out there is much more to Curtis Stigers than we had ever been led to believe. And those of us who so vigorously resisted anything in the middle of the road were perhaps foolish not to realise that he might, in reality, have been one of us after all.
"When I was growing up in Boise, Idaho, I wanted to be in The Clash or XTC and the Pretenders. Those were the kind of bands I was in - they were cover bands and we thought we were punks even though we were six years late! It had just been an instinctual thing for me to play and all of a sudden somebody wanted me to come out and make 10 or 20 bucks doing it - and maybe drink a draft beer at the same time."
For his Dublin appearance, Stigers is back to that very same situation - out playing what he wants to play but this time, exploring the side of him which goes for Paul Brady, Neil Young and Louden Wainwright. And as if that isn't encouraging enough, he's about to bring out a jazz album - backed by New York's finest and with a repertoire which includes Chet Baker, Elvis Costello and Gershwin.
Those jazz roots also go back to Boise, Idaho, where he first played clarinet at school and later took to saxophone onstage with one of the finest, funkiest and swingingest jazz pianists of all - the late Gene Harris. Yet another cool surprise on the Stigers CV.
"Gene used to play six nights a week in the lobby of the fanciest old hotel in Boise. On Tuesday nights, he had an open jam session and so I started coming in with my clarinet and later my sax. This was all going on at the same time as I was playing with punk bands at the weekends, so I was leading parallel lives. He was very helpful because we were just these kids playing horribly and he was world class. But working with him got my nerve up. When they started the Gene Harris Jazz Festival, I played there every year with him. But as a saxophone player, my main influences were blues guitar players and that's why I'm not really a great jazz sax player. If I play like anybody its more Ben Webster - and rhythm and blues influenced jazz."
And so the big question. How did someone into The Clash and Gene Harris end up in the "uncool" territory of middle of the road pop? It's a difficult question for Stigers who ended up, as he puts it himself "as some kind of Michael Bolton Junior". Yes it brought in the bucks and considerable global attention, but it was an extremely long way from the original plot.
"I was honestly hoping that I'd be compared to John Hiatt and Van Morrison! That's how I saw myself when I was playing in the clubs. I was writing these pop songs from a rhythm and blues place but when I made the first record I was influenced by the people I worked with. I didn't know how to make a record so I put it in the hands of the producers. But I can't emphasise enough that I'll never denounce that - it was part of who I was then. Yes I was playing jazz and blues but there was also a part of me that wanted to make a nice, big modern, blue-eyed soul record. I liked to do different things and that was one of them."
These days, Stigers is no longer that blue-eyed soulster in the mega-selling mould (and wouldn't want to be) but you can't help feeling that he'll always be asked to explain himself for ever having been a pop star all those years ago. But that's to underestimate both Stigers and his take on what happened. And to his credit, while there's certainly reinvention, there's never the slightest hint of denial. And why should he? "I suppose I'll probably fight that image for the rest of my life. But hey, I got to see the world and record with some of the best musicians in the world. I got my own songs, that I'd sweated and bled over, out to a lot of people and I got to play in front of a lot of people everywhere. But I have to say that it just didn't feel right."
And that's where both the problems and the recovery started. It was a serious struggle to make the Brighter Day album with Stigers still trying to get closer to his touchstone of John Hiatt and away from middle of the road pop. But the more mandolins and acoustic guitars he reached for, the more the record company fought back. The album took four years to come out and, by then, his big-time career had lost all momentum. His old corporate rulers left him to his rootsy revival and forgot all about him but Stigers was a happy man. He had made an album with musicians such as Jackson Browne, Paul Brady, Benmont Tench and Jim Keltner and it was something he was proud to say represented what he was actually all about. With that he put those distant glory days behind him and decided to get back to being a musician.
"Now I get to meet people face to face who like my music and I'm not terrified of them any more. I was scared back then because there were so many of them and I was led to believe that I was something more than human (or less than human) in that whole star-making thing. I never felt comfortable with the star stuff. I could play the game alright but as far as the adulation went and the `oh we love your hair' I was always worried and freaked out about it. So I came to the point where I decided that I was going to do what I wanted to do - play jazz, pop and make small records and hopefully make a living at it. If it all meant taking a pay cut, alright. If it meant playing in smaller places, alright. I did it before and it was just as much fun. The whole thing is a little victory - that's for sure."
Curtis Stigers plays The Shelter, Vicar Street, Dublin, on Wednesday, January 31st and The Waterfront, Belfast, on Saturday, February 3rd.