It is 15 years since Manu Chao released Clandestino, an album that saw him talked about in the same breath as Bob Marley. When I first set out to meet Manu Chao in 2001, I had been told the man I was looking for had a small pied à terre in Barcelona with no outside space, because the "street is my courtyard". He could, when in town, be found busking in his local bar. He owned bees but no mobile phone or watch. He was always on the move, addicted to travel, never able to spend more than a few weeks in the same place, never planning more than three months ahead. He was – as the line had it on one of his songs, Desaparecido – "the disappearing one ... hurry[ing] down the lost highway ... When they look for me I'm not there, When they find me, I'm elsewhere".