The Establishment hates him and purists groan at his still punkish image and outrageous statements.

But Nigel Kennedy is definitely one of the greatest violinists of his generation.

He was the first classical musician to throw away the bow-tie and tuxedo. He made scruffiness a cult and used his Mockney accent and love of football to reach the young.

He did the vulgar act of making the classical cool and has been both enjoying it and paying for it ever since.

But he is far more than the sum of his parts. Brighton-born Nigel, or just Kennedy as he sometimes likes to be known, has a bubbly, highly-infectious personality and that happy knack of drawing you into his world. He is warm, disarmingly candid and fiercely passionate about life.

I tracked him down after he had spent a tiring day filming a BBC tribute to Kylie Minogue.

He says: "I might call my violin Kylie; they both have similar curves and she sings like my fiddle - beautifully."

The violin is an 18th-Century Guarnieri del Gesu worth an estimated £1million.

"It's a great piece of kit and has gone a long way to making me what I am."

He was born at the Royal Sussex County Hospital and his first memories were of living in a flat in Regency Square.

He says: "Dad had skipped before I was born and I was brought up by my mum.

"There was hardly any money but Mum, who was a piano teacher, insisted I learn to play the piano and the violin.

"Later, we moved to Lyndhurst Road in Hove but, by the time I was six, I had been auditioned by Yehudi Menuhin and was at his school near Leatherhead, Surrey.

"That was pretty miserable and I was very lonely but Yehudi was fantastic. He paid all the fees for me.

"I could barely play the violin when I auditioned but he saw something in me that no-one else, including me, could.

"I suppose he was something like the father I didn't have but it was more than that. No kid would ever take violin lessons from his dad but I took them from him.

"When he died, I couldn't believe it. I didn't go to his funeral because I didn't want to believe the man was dead."

After the Menuhin School, it was the Juilliard School in Manhattan that honed Kennedy's skills. He says: "I was 17, loose in New York and having a great time.

"Four of us formed a quartet and we would play at rich people's funerals. We charged the earth and made lots of money but we had to give it up because it was just too depressing.

"Later we took to busking outside Tiffany's the jewellers - we got some great tips."

Now 45 and recently married to Polish lawyer Agnieskza Chowniesc, Kennedy has a home in Krakow, a place in London and a country house in Worcestershire.

So, is he still the bad boy of the classical music world who throws tantrums, smashes up hotel rooms and generally runs wild?

He says: "I was never as bad as my reputation. The problem was I was the first of the classical crowd to come out of the stuffiness of the concert hall and talk to ordinary people. The Establishment hated me for that.

"They hate me a little less now because others have followed my lead. But given half a chance, they would still like to wrap classical music in plastic and preserve it for the few.

"I know I've said some stupid things in my time and probably done a few, too, but who hasn't? In the early days of my career, I was totally straight, spoke properly and all that.

"But that wasn't me. The only male role model I'd had was Yehudi Menuhin so that was who I wanted to be.

"Meeting jazz violinist Stephane Grappelli made me realise I had to be who I was. I remember one gig at the Dome in Brighton, with Stephane.

"I was doing my Yehudi bit - lots and lots of practice and rehearsal - but Stephane spent all day wandering the antique shops in The Lanes and having some double brandies.

"He came back at performance time, picked up his violin and went on playing absolutely sublimely.

"It really blew me away, he was incredible. He knew exactly what he was doing and got a standing ovation.

"I've been through my wild phases although I still like the occasional party and love to jam with other players.

"We spend a lot of time in Poland and hang out with a lot of jazz players. Sometimes we've jammed all through the night, sometimes all through breakfast until lunchtime.

Now greying at the temples and putting on a bit of weight around the middle, Kennedy does have another passion in his life apart from music.

It is his son Sark Yves Amadeus Kennedy. He is five years old and his mother is a former girlfriend, Eve Westmore. As he speaks of Sark, Kennedy's voice is notably softer: He dotes on the boy.

"Becoming a dad was probably the best thing that happened to me. He lives with his mum but I spend at least ten days a month with him. That is sacrosanct.

"My wife, my agent, my manager, everyone knows that for ten days a month, I won't perform, won't practice, I'll just be with Sark.

"As I know only too well, kids need two parents. We live near each other and for those ten days we just hang out together.

"We feed the hens and the ducks, talk and play football together. All the stuff that dads and sons do.

"I never met my dad until I was 16 and he was an alcoholic then. I want to be a better dad to my son.

"I just love and adore the little fella. I have bought him a small violin and he has a great sense of rhythm. I'm not too sure if I want him to become a fiddle player. What I'd really like is for him to become a striker for Aston Villa and wear the claret-and-blue shirt.

"My schedule is set around him, he is my greatest achievement."

Kennedy is on his way to Brighton for a one-off gig with the strings of the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra.

It is going to be an evening of Vivaldi including the Four Seasons which gave him a place in the Guinness Book of Records for the fastest-selling classical-music record of all time. Its eventual sales were more than two million.

He said: "I know you are going to remind me of my statement once that I was never going to play dead men's music again. Well, that was stupid.

"Vivaldi is one of the masters of the violin. It isn't particularly challenging music although it is hard work but that allows an audience to listen to every little nuance that Vivaldi wrote.

"I do know I can inspire people. At a recent concert, a woman of about 70 came up to me and said I had inspired her to play the violin.

"That's really nice; that I can inspire young and old to try something they haven't done before. That is one of the biggest buzzes I get from making music.

"What I want to do now is revisit some of my old recordings. Look at Vivaldi, Bach, Elgar and Brahms again and maybe re-record them.

"And I want to try some of the Mozart concertos. I am conscious I have been avoiding him. His music seems so simple yet it is so deeply complex.

"I am drawn to him but I find him daunting. The thing about his music and all the music I play is that each time I play it, there is always something new in it, something you've never seen before.

"I have heard it too in gipsy and Klezmer music in Poland and I want to play more of that. There is so much great music around - I want to play it all."

For his Brighton gig, Kennedy has one request. "Do you think Chris Eubank might be there. I really admire him as a boxer and a character.

"I'd really love to see him in the audience and come back afterwards for a chat. And I want to know what is happening to the West Pier. I would love to see a really good nightclub on it so we could make music all night long and not disturb anyone.

"I have rather cut myself off from the city although I come down and see my mum, who now lives by the Downs, and spend time with her.

"I used to spend some time at the Zap Club on the seafront but I don't lead a particularly flashy lifestyle these days. Now I hang out with friends, have people over for dinner and so on.

"I have never been a really wild man. Marriage and fatherhood have made me much more responsible."