Rufus Waniwright has had quite a time of it recently, with the past couple of years being a period of incredible personal highs, huge creativity and great success.

He has married his long-term partner, had a baby with a childhood friend, and recorded his most accessible album to date with help from his musician sister Martha. Heck, he has even had a chat with the Queen.

Yet two years on from the death of his mother, the folk singer Kate McGarrigle, life is still tinged with sadness.

“I’ve had everything,” he chirps. “Birth, life and death... and it’s all the same.

“I’m definitely going to take a long time to absorb all these adult issues. There are some great ones and some sad ones, but most are fantastic.”

They include his wedding to theatre producer Jorn Weisbrodt and the birth of his daughter Viva, now one, with Lorca Cohen – daughter of fellow Canadian singer-songwriter Leonard Cohen.

“It’s been lovely and magical. But it’s still only two years since my mother died, so I’m still feeling rocky. I think these things take a couple of years to get over.”

Rufus is talking from Dublin, having just flown in for the start of a tour which on Friday reaches Oxford.

“I have just arrived,” he says with a theatrical sigh, “So physically I’m in Ireland but mentally I’m in Iceland.

“I’m pushing things pretty hard, but I’m lucky to have that opportunity. These are challenging times on all fronts so it’s good to get out there and divert our minds a bit.

“And I appreciate the sacrifice people make when they spend money on a ticket, but, by the same token, I’m worth every penny. We do put on an amazing show!”

New album Out of the Game is the seventh by the eccentric 39-year-old Quebecois artist, the son of musician Loudon Wainwright III.

It was produced by Mark Ronson and, as well as a guest appearance by Martha, features contributions by Sean Lennon, Wilco, Andrew Wyatt of the band Miike Snow, Andy Burrows from Razorlight, Nick Zinner of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, pianist Doveman and guitarist Nels Cline.

It was inspired by both the death of his mother and the birth of Viva. And for a man whose previous efforts include a musical tribute to his heroine Judy Garland, songs based on Shakespeare’s sonnets, and an opera, it is remarkably accessible.

“It is a pop record,” he says. “If you play it, people will stay in the room.”

“Pop for me is a tool to enjoy the lighter side of life. A lot of people laugh, cry, make up and break up to pop, but I like it most when I’m at the bar or when I’m driving. It’s a motion thing for me, for either drinking or driving – though not at the same time!”

Much of the record’s sound is down to Ronson’s production. Rufus says there was chemistry between the two men. “There was an instant connection when I first met Mark,” he says.

The video for the title track features another big guest star – sometime Oxfordshire resident Helena Bonham Carter. The actress is depicted as a dowdy librarian seduced by images of Rufus in various disguises.

How did she come to be involved? “I’ve known Helena for quite a long time now,” he says. “I did a five-run show once in London and I used to see this woman kind of creep in and out of every show. She was something of a stalker. It turned out to be Helena and we became very good friends. She is an incredibly beautiful, glamorous and funny girl.”

The songs are performed live by Rufus and his eight-piece band, which includes Teddy Thompson on guitar and Krystle Warren on vocals. It’s all a far cry from his opera, Prima Donna, which told the story of singer Régine Saint Laurent and was performed at Sadler’s Wells.

Though, he insists, his career as an opera writer is far from over. “I’ve been into opera since I was 14 and it is special to me,” he says. “My dream is to complete more. It was not a one-off, or rather, a one ‘op’. I can’t just write one, like Beethoven did, though I make no pretence to be related to him.

“However, I can’t do pop and opera at the same time; I am not a Hindu goddess.”

But there are greater ambitions too. “There are other things I want to do,” he says, turning subdued. “I want to play my mother’s music and I also want to be a good dad, which is a good idea. And then there’s my ‘mid-section’, which is under review. I’m doing okay but there is a need for intervention – and for more salads and less fish and chips.”

It was Rufus’s love of opera that saw him breaking with tradition during a meeting with the Queen. He met the monarch after a Commonwealth Day ceremony at Westminster Abbey, where he sang Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah.

“It was great,” he says. “Though I kind of broke protocol at one point. She was very polite and asked me a question, then walked away. Then I said, ‘Excuse me, I have something to tell you,’ and she graciously turned and put up with me. We had been told not to make conversation with her, but I suppose there is something of the American revolutionary in me.”

He talked about the Queen’s cousin, the late Lord Harewood, who had served as a chairman of the English National Opera.

“I told her I had met Lord Harewood, who was the most cultured of the Royal Family, a big aficionado of music and a war hero. I said we had hung out and that he was a fantastic man.”

And what did the Queen say? Rufus laughs. “She turned and said ‘He liked music’ then walked away.”

And what did he make of Her Majesty? “She was very ‘Queensy’ but so tiny... I guess it happens to all of us when we get old and rich.”

A colourful character, Rufus seems to have gone out of his way at times to court controversy and challenge attitudes.

“I’ve always been that way – for better or worse,” he says. “My theory was that to be different was to be noticed. And that happened at the beginning, but it also meant they didn’t know where to put me in the CD racks. I’ve always been unusual, and that is not going to change anytime soon.”

That desire to be noticed, coupled with a love of glamour, has resulted in some memorable performances. He has performed showtunes in stockings and suspenders, and played his previous show in Oxford in a particularly fine ball gown.

“I loved that tour,” he says of the shows, which followed the death of his mother from cancer. “It was a complete artistic and personal triumph in allowing me to weep inwardly. But now is the time to kick up our heels and pick up the ball gown... before we bury it!

“The unpredictability of what I wear adds to the show,” he says. “I love to take risks and I’m not afraid to look like a fool.”

So what can we expect this time? “You will have to come and see for yourself!” he says with delight. “Though the legs are in this leg!”