The SAY (Scottish Album of the Year) Award winner moved to Troon earlier this year to work on new record Breaks & Bone, and found the relaxing atmosphere a huge boost.
"I'm not sure if it was specifically Troon or just being out of Glasgow, as I've been there all my life and I needed a change," says the guitarist, known to all as Hubby.
"I was struggling to finish Bone, scrapped a whole load of stuff and went there, where it's been great - within about two weeks the album was done.
"It was originally planned as a short-term thing, but my girlfriend and I both loved it. It's a slower pace, it's quiet and I like that, although we're staying on the same street as the only nightclub there.
"Even on a Friday night though there's nothing like the noise I used to get when I lived in Shawlands."
A long-standing fixture of Glasgow's music scene, it's only in recent years that Hubby has started to get the attention his talent deserves, culminating in winning the Scottish Album of the Year award in July for 2012's Thirteen Lost And Found, a record that featured a string of collaborations with other Scottish talent.
That prize came with a cheque for £20,000, but it's not exactly been the springboard to a life of glitz and glamour for the guitarist, known for his mostly instrumental, melodic tunes.
"It paid off a lot of debts and a lot of collaborations," chuckles Hubby, as he sips a soft drink in a quiet Glasgow pub.
"No-one expects to actually get paid on a collaboration, so getting to actually pay folk was nice, even if there was part of me going 'leave me and the money alone!'.
"The reality is that the SAY Award money was gone within a month. After paying off debts I was skint again by the end of August.
"It's placed me in an interesting position where people think I now have money for my music, but what it really achieved was that I didn't go bankrupt at the end of this year," he says.
Now comes the follow-up, Breaks & Bone, which he feels will complete his "ampersand" (&) trilogy of 'ampersand' albums, that started back with 2011's First & Last.
As fans will know, his first album was a reaction to the deaths of his parents, while Thirteen Lost & Found focused on him re-establishing connections with friends he'd lost touch with.
Having battled depression through his life, the 39-year-old says he wants this album to represent a conclusion of sorts.
"This all stemmed from a seven-inch single I decided to write last year," he explains. "I'd heard from many therapists over the years that to help you deal with grief you should write whoever you've lost a letter. I didn't do that, and last year I thought it was the right time.
"I recorded it, and realised two things - it was the most depressing record ever, and I wasn't ready to let go. So I wrote the album about it, and spread my thoughts over that.
"I want to try and let go of this stuff a wee bit. It was starting to feel like the music wasn't really helping me anymore, and it wasn't the best way to manage your mental health, as a couple of bad shows would make me feel worse.
"I realised I can't really rely on audiences to maintain my mental health, and that's how the record came about."
Hubby has suffered depression for much of his life, and his shows have regularly served as a form of therapy, with the talkative musician explaining the meaning behind his material.
"I don't think people take depression very seriously," he says.
"I think American culture has seeped in, where it's thought that it's a minor ailment that can be treated with pills.
"I don't think people realise how debilitating it can be. It's not just sadness. I've had a brilliant year, but I still get depressed."
A happier topic is the album's launch show, in St Andrews in the Square. It's a location with some irony for Hubby…
"We did the album launch at Stereo last time, which was nice, but there were lots of other people appearing that night, whereas this time it's just me, so I wanted a venue more suited to that," he says.
"Besides, I thought it'd be funny to stick a foul-mouthed atheist in a church. One thing I have learned was that if you ever play a church, as I did in Rome once, check there's not members of the church there before you start criticising religion while onstage.
"It's almost as bad as the time I played London on the day of the Diamond Jubilee and slagged off the Royal family. There was just silence…"
l RM Hubbert, St Andrews In The Square, Sunday, £10, 7pm