Taking a deep breath and assuming a casual air, I modestly reply that I've been dispatched to exotic, tropical Sheffield three times in the last six months. In the pop world this may well be a record. Deborah's features remain unruffled. She makes a very good job of pretending not to be impressed.

Deborah Evans. The name may not cause chimes to ring out in your memory but you will have heard and undoubtedly not forgotten her voice. She was the owner of that remarkable topping to David Cunningham's batty restructuring of pop production that went under the banner of the Flying Lizards. Their shake up of 'Money' was a phenomenal ,world wide chart leaper.

Having maintained the lowest of profiles the possessor of this inimitable semi tuneful singing sound has now, once again, bled her stylised non croon onto vinyl. A version of 'Respect' (R.E.S.P.E.C.T.) the song written by Otis Redding and given immortality by Aretha Franklin. Credited to Deborah And The Puerto Ricans, the artefact is issued through CBS and produced by the unlikely Dennis Bovell.

“I didn't know Dennis, I just went down to see if he was interested. At first he wasn't. It took about seven months but in that time I often went to talk to him about philosophy and our views on life. I told him the story of my strange and eventful life but he actually told me nothing whatsoever.

“He did say I recited the words to 'Respect' with no feeling or meaning so he pretended he was going to rape me. Only at the last minute did he tell me that he wasn't. We used the vocal take we did immediately after that.

"We eventually recorded it on the eve of the Brixton riots, which I think was the right sort of climate. 'Respect' is not one of my favourite songs but I'd made some money when I was incredibly broke and at the age of 26 I thought it was time I had a bit of respect.

“Unfortunately it has been very badly received. I think our version is better than Otis's or Aretha's, it may have less impact but it is certainly more charming. The 'sock it to me' bits (a final thrill coming right at the end, well worth waiting for) are particularly good. We tried to get Linton Kwesi Johnson to do them but he was far too serious a man to join in such frivolities.”

We’re sitting in a Covent Garden creperie, i.e. a posh pancake parlour. Two plates arrive carrying over-priced wafer thin offerings. Mine is devoured with all the speed and grace of a starving rhino. Deborah elegantly prods hers and delicately discards it to the side of the plate.

I eye the specimen and fell the noshing rising temptation in my eager stomach but my companion's engrossing conversation is sufficient to quell the ravenous spirit within. It must be said, Deborah Evans is substantially more interesting than a pancake. With some interviewees this is not the case.

To be incisive and brutal (the role of the critic, ha!) the staggeringly good business of 'Money' and the other Soaring Reptile singles was more down to their wacko humour and novelty value to the public at large than the kitchen sink sound, the ludicrously small costs (£6.50 to finance 'Money', I'm told) and the other underlying subvert the biz (for it did!) implications. These were not selling factors.

In contrast, the thus far commercial poor showing of 'Respect' lies in its relative musical normality. A polite rhythm intercut with pleasant horns. Only the Deborah vocal performance lifts the ditty from the realms of being so bland it's boring. The average listener in the street remembers the voice but there is no inspired madcap backing to grab attention and stick in the mind.

A fine summation, eh? Not so thinks Debs. The woman on the other side of the pancakes cites a darker explanation:

"It wasn't as musically obscene as ‘Money', you can listen to it without getting your ears hurt. But that was Dennis's fault, not mine! I like to hear things going wrong and going out of tune. But there are more deeply rooted reasons for its apparent failure. There are some things which one can make fun of, like money, that was satire in a very acceptable way. But a woman asking for respect is far more boring and a satire of racialism is very dodgy.

"I learned that there are incredible differences between West Indian and English people. If a coloured girl came down to Dennis's studio she'd be expected to wait outside and not join in the conversation. I found that quite shocking.

"I was an anomaly at first and got treated quite well but gradually it got worse and worse. It is so tragic that both record companies and West Indians accept racialism. They may not like it but they accept it. The people who sing about racialism are often racialist themselves and want to maintain the status quo."

The flip side of the single is tongue-twistingly titled 'Side A Side B Side'. It contains a light weight disco-funk carrier upon which Deborah conducts a phone conversation and cops an exchange exploding with, a plethora of crossed lines. She confides a keenness for radio phone ins (she'll go blind!) and likens them to the Warhol concept of everybody enjoying fame for a brief time.

I suggest that, avec les lizards, she may have already enjoyed her few minutes.

“To tell the truth, I didn’t really notice (this coming from someone who appeared on Tiswas!). I've been more renowned for other things.”

What! What?

“I try to be enigmatic but it is very difficult. Really I'm a poetess and spend most of my time writing. The 'pop' kind of fame is very really interesting , poets and poetesses never become famous, just within their circles.

“I’m very interested in puerile humour. I’d like the make the kind of records that would please all the really stupid people in the world and amuse the more intelligent. One always thinks people who agree with one are intelligent and those who disagree stupid.

“I love ideas that are based on nothing at all. I like nonsense very much. I like to think my records are like Lewis Carrol making records. I haven't decided whether pop music is a cultural activity or just an entertainment with art ish pretensions.”

Nor have I. But I did notice the Blakes 7 transporter bracelet around her left wrist. I think Deborah knows more than she's telling.