LIAM IN "Q", DECEMBER 1999

Forgive me father for I have sinned

…It’s been two years since his last confession and Liam Gallagher – drug nutter, police magnet and oh yes, greatest singer of the decade has much to impart. Kid’s are in, booze is out, lucid reflections on Oasis’s imperial ‘90’s astonishing on the agenda. What, you’ve always wondered is he really like? Well, "I’m a pretty pleasant kind of person," he assures Phil Sutcliffe.

There's a leopard in the billiard room. His name is Liam Gallagher. He squats on his haunches by the fireplace like a trophy some eccentric squire might have brought back from Africa - still, silent, lithe. Ready to pounce. Or so everyone feels.

Camera crew, journalist, assorted functionaries, and brother Noel are gathered at Ridge Farm studio to shoot a short apology-for-absence film for the 1997 Q Awards. They discuss the task, but distractedly, wanting to state, knowing that's the wrong thing to do with dangerous animals.

The crew sets up. Then waits for four hours until Liam makes his entrance. Fast and fluid, every eye on him, he looks at no one, says not a word, straight to the hearth, dropping down into that crouch, very aware of the power of his presence.

Noel says, "Er, shall we?" Liam moves for the second time, fast and sleek, the small throng parting before him. He holds still for one take, 30 seconds. Then he's gone, straight out the door. The crew sighs with relief. It's in the can. They got away with it. The leopard didn't eat them.

TWO YEAPS ON and a photographer, his assistants, and a journalist wait for Liam Gallagher at an East London studio. It's his first substantial solo interview since 1997. Meanwhile, most of what's been heard of him is uproar and ructions. They don't know what to expect. They fear the worst.

But then, just one minute late, his car pulls up. He walks in smiling, "Hi, how you doin'?", nodding, shaking hands. He signs autographs on trial-run Polaroids, talks to everyone, chatting freely about the baby (then expected in six weeks). Even his feral walk has modified: less rocking swagger, less rolling shoulder. Tension drains away.

He pushes aside the beer and wine in the fridge to extract a can of Red Bull. The energy drink is the best high he can get now he's on the wagon, he says. He selects an unsurprising soundtrack for the photo session: Electric Ladyland, The White Album, Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, Rubber Soul, Revolver.

The Beatles albums cue a yarn about John Lennon's "dreamcatcher" necklace, which he acquired as a birthday present from Noel. Liam loves telling stories. He's on his feet, acting it out, Manchester accent as dense as ever. "It came in a glass case, but I wanted to try it on," he says. "So one night I came in, tanked up and took a hammer to it. All these beads started falling off and rolling across the floor. I thought, Fuckin' hell, John Lennon's beads! It's back in a case now."

When the pictures are done he sits on the studio sofa, two packs of Benson & Hedges Special Filter on the table in front of him. Confidently close. Always on the move. Affably tapping, poking, patting his inquisitor. Having paid little attention at school, he has a limited vocabulary but, naturally sharp and intense, he talks hard and fast, constantly stopping and adjusting sentences as he spirals down towards what he really wants to say - his meaning augmented by aural punctuation with handclaps, thigh-slaps and cigarette lighter clicks.

So he bats along through a non-controversial account of Bonehead and Guigsy's departures, with many an expression of "respect" and just the occasional barb: "It’s been like a good curry clear-out". He sketches a new album that’s "a bit psychedelic" and propelled by "McCartney basslines, (sings) Dunidumdodoodleo, whereas normally we've been, Dudududududu".

He swears it didn't cross the Gallaghers' minds to finish with Oasis. "What am I gonna do?" he says, adding, "I've never ever seen a hint of fuckin' darkness, never a hint of what it would take for us to end it. I'm there, I've got the ignition started, I'm rarin' to go."

Liam Gallagher is a changed man.

When did you give up drinking?
About a month before we recorded the album (March onwards). We were rehearsing and I thought, Fuck this, I want to be there. I want to prove we're not a bunch of Manchester wankers who’ve blown it by having too much money and liking the juice too much. Because once I have a beer I get led astray and I think, Aah, Noel'll do it. I gave it up like that, none of that fuckin’ Priory business – lightweights, the people who go there.

Are you an alcoholic?
No. Or maybe I was gettin'... People around me were makin' slight hints. I thought maybe they were right. When I went to bed I’d put a glass of Jack Daniel's either side of me like bedside lamps for when I woke up in the morning. I was, "Morning!", to the left side (drains imaginary glass) and, "Morning!" to the right side.
I knew all the time I could give it up, but I really loved drinking. And I never had a hangover. That was the worst thing. Wake up, feel great, reach over and have another one, Wa-hey! But then I thought, This is mad, and I didn't have a drop through recording. That was two months. It was really hippie, going for walks, having a laugh.

Have you been drunk since then?
Manchester City at Wembley for the play-offs. We were getting beat 2-0 with ten minutes to go and I fell right off the wagon. "Fuck this, where’s the vodka?" Bastards. But I haven’t had a drink since.

Does this apply to drugs as well?
Yeah, I’m a father now. I don't want to... I've had a gap in me life and the baby is there to fill it and I’ve got to look after him and I want to be there to feel it. I want to be straight-headed about it. I've got to make the right moves. It's amazing. Now I feel fine and everything I want to say I can get out. Whether I can stay off it when I'm on the road is another thing. We'll see.

Noel talking about Be Here Now, said Oasis 'lost it
down the drug dealer's'.
There was a lot of that (brushes nose with back o finger). It was xpht! xpht! xpht! (zaps pointed fingers about: life as a crash cut video perhaps). Be Here Now, people slagged it off, but I still think the songs were amazing. Maybe it was overproduced. It just wasn’t a Morning Glory. And Morning Glory was something I don't even understand-, we recorded it in two weeks and when I went home to Burnage I had plaster casts on a broken arm and a broken leg and an air rifle on me back. I knocked on my mam’s door, (Hops on one leg) "l'm 'ome, we've finished the album!" She looks at me and goes (full on Irish), "Bejasus! What kind of fockin' record have you been makin’ down there?" (The Rockfield sessions featured the Gallaghers' worst ever fight; Noel battered Liam with a cricket ba, then Liam tried to kick Noel’s bedroom door down.

The media have more or less demonised you in reporting various 'controversial" incidents. For example, there was the flight to Australia last year that got Oasis banned from Cathay Pacific for "abusive and disgusting behaviour'.
That had nothing to do with me. I was asleep. Or I might have had one argument with a stewardess over a scone. I asked her and she wouldn't give me one.
A scone, I mean. We'd paid for about twenty people on that plane and all I asked for was a fuckin' scone. This woman in the same row was having one so I said, Why can she have one and I can't? Right, well fuck you then! Maybe I shouldn't have told her to fuck off but... On the road, these things become important. You've been away from home for a long time and you think, (smacks lips) I could.fuckin' do with one of them scones. It's like a matter of life and death at the time. And I'd lost the plot. I had this big beard and I was pissed up and getting arrested all the time.

What about the inquest on the forklift-truck
driver who died before Oasis's Loch Lomond gig? There was an allegation that you might have been partly to blame because someone said you shouted at a lorry driver from the stage during the soundcheck and caused some chaos.
I was fuckin 'fuming at that. I wasn't even there. I don't do soundchecks normally. I was gutted. What about the parents', If they think I had anything to do with it they must hate me. But I honestly... I'm not carrying that cross, brother.

These stories make you look like some kind
of monster. Does that grind you down?
I think they've got another Liam.

You don't recognise yourself?
Yeah. It's the foul-mouthed cunt side of me they write about. I keep the good side of me in the family. They're not going to get... the more sensitive side of me. But l don't read the papers. Don't have them in the house. The odd time I pick one up I always seem to be in there and it does me head in. I can't be starting me day off like that.

Still, beyond the newspapers there has been a more general criticism that Oasis are losing touch. Having been poor, don't you feel that becoming a rich rock star, and sometimes flaunting it, separates you...
(Bursting to jump in.) The times, you've got to roll with it, man.

... separates you from your background and the
fans who love you?
I'm sure people might go, Fuckin’ 'wankers, they're not like they used to be. I'm totally down with that. Obviously we're fuckin' not. But it's like, I went to a premiere the other week with Patsy and Liz Hurley and that's because Patsy and Liz have been friends for years, right. We don't go to premieres normally. I go with James (Patsy’s son) to the local cinema on the Finchley Road. But Liz asked us to come and since she's a nice girl and she's gonna be the godmother of the child...
I can't live my life worrying what knobs think about me. I can't even worry what the fans think.

WHEN CREATION CREATOR Alan McGee spotted Oasis on May 31, 1993, at King Tut's, Glasgow, he saw immediately that the singer was 11 already a rock star in his head". "I thought I Was the fuckin' bee's knees," nods Gallagher. "And that's what you need. I tried to dress well. I liked trainers. I think you've got to start from your feet; once you you’ve got your shoes then everything else falls into place. Before the band, walking around town, I knew I was on it." He jumps up. Imagines meeting himself as a teenager on the street. "'Fuckin' hell, he looks cool, I wonder what he does" 'I work in a garden centre.' Wanker. I thought he was in a band."'

Gallagher's earliest memory is being stung by a bee outside his granny's house in Charlestown, County Mayo, when he was four. Throughout his childhood, the urban charms of Burnage alternated with holidays amid the rural basics of his mother Peggy's, hometown. "Wild, hazy days they were," he reminisces. "Running round like lunatics in a field with loads of cousins..."

As a kid he was already prone to extreme enthusiasms - such as Weetabix: "I was addicted to them. Nine a day. Three in the morning. Three when I came in from school. Three before I went to bed. I'd wake up like, 'Who fuckin’ wants it?

His "sensitive side" lay dormant for many years. His mother bought him a violin, but it wasn’t his style. Despite reports of his pulling-power, he insists he rarely had girlfriends because "I couldn't be arsed putting the time in. I wanted to be off with the lads and having a laugh." The lads included Paul "Boneliead" Arthurs front West Point and Paul "Guigsy" McGuigan from Levenshulme.

He played Gaelic football, association football, and boxed briefly, until the club banned him when his lack of rapport with the Queensberry rules was exposed: "This lad, (Geoffrey Scholes, he cracked me on the nose so I fuckin’ took the gloves off and gave him a good kicking.

He took acid from time to time "It's good to get LSD out of your system when you're young" - and was particularly partial to the magic mushrooms he picked in Lyme Park, until, when he was16, they led him to discover his capacity for cliff-edge self-restraint. He and a friend picked a sackful and took them down to Didsbury to share with a regular crowd of friends. But nobody came. He ate "a neckload", then felt something alarming happening: "I said, That's it, l'm off to hospital. I went up to a nurse and I told her, Look, I know you're going to boot off at me, but I've been taking a load of mushrooms and me head's up me arse, so can I just hang about here? I sat there zebedeed up, man. But it shows I've always been good at cutting things out when I have to."

Urged to leave school before the exam season because he hadn't got a prayer, his first job was at the garden centre. For a few weeks he went along with tasks like creosoting fences. But when the boss told him to clean the toilet a red rage flushed through him: "If you had any fuckin'... is the word 'morals'?... you're not doin’ that, you’re not workin’ in the shit hut. I done a jimmy out of Quadrophenia, burnt off on me BMX. There has to be another way of making a living than cleaning a toilet."

He did a short winter stint hanging neon signs on shopfronts, then, along with his brothers, went concreting for his father's firm. Which inspired his subsequent commitment to the dole and music. He came to it gradually. At first, sharing a bedroom with Noel, he was force fed punk and The Smiths. But in 1987 The Stone Roses arrived: jangly guitars, a singer with attitude, and Liam decided, "That'll do me."

He "got turned right on to the '60s" and kindred spirits The La,s. Alone in his room, he began to put his fantasy to the test. "I started singing over Lee Mavers and John Lennon, There She Goes and Across The Universe - (sings) Nothing's gonna change my world - and it was, Fuckin' bell, I was in key. I'm singing that song as good as him. Or better."

When he replaced Chris Hutton in Bonehead and Guigsy's Rain in 1992 he reckons he was still singing bog standard "indie Manchester, Ian Browny" until Noel elbowed his way in, brandishing a sheaf of original songs, demanding leadership and obsessive practice. "When I sang Supersonic something clicked," Liam acknowledges. "That was when I got my own style and we had our sound. Fuckin' hell, we're not like an indie band any more, this is rock 'n’ roll!"

All through this account of his childhood he barely mentions his father, makes no allusion at all to the violence visited on his mother and brothers, which Liam apparently evaded just because he -was the youngest child by five years. It would come across as a "sob story" he says.

You lost your religion?
Yeah, sort of I used to go to church with my Mam. Then when you start dabbling in drugs you question it, don’t you? And all that nonsense with me Dad… She tried to get a divorce and they
wouldn't give it her. Even at that age (12) 1 was going, Why not? This woman's been beat up. Why can't she get a divorce? Well, I do believe in something, but I don't know what it is.

That's
a funny thing to say.
That's the beauty of it. I wouldn't want to put a name to it. That would ruin it.

Is it outside yourself or inside?
Inside. Music has a lot to do with it. And I believe in people. I believe in John Lennon, I believe in everything he stood for, that's the nearest to a God thing I get to. I'm sure he was a cunt as well, but he was a good guy. I'm not saying I'm a hippie, all that peace and love, but I can give it a chance. It's the right thing to do isn’t it? Patsy’s religious. If she goes to church I'll go with her. I can't help but giggle, though.

Patsy wouldn't appreciate that,
though, would she?
No, but she understands where me head's at. Like she asks me to come and see James singing in the school mass and I'll go, but I feel a bit (jumps up, lowers his head, shuffles his feet) - an outsider.

Do you hate it because of what happened to
your mother?
No, I don't hate it. I respect people who believe it. Patsy does her prayers every night. At first, l was gonin', Are you havin' a laugh? I'd watch to see if she was just doing it for the crack, but I've been with her four years and she’s still doing it.

If just believe in me and the power of.. the human, you know what I mean? But then you've got to be prepared for the dark side as well. You're out there on your own. Because religions a guide and if it’s not there you've got to be big enough to take care of yourself.

Do you ever give a thought to dying?
No, no, I don't worry about that death business.

You were saying you're uneasy talking about
your father, but your brother Paul's book stressed his influence on you. He wrote, "Liam was very psychologically affected by his father. That's why Liam is so aggressive now, because he's got all this hatred built up.
T
hat's probably true. I do jump the gun a bit. But whether its to do with me dad or not I really don’t know. I think that’s all psychological bollocks to tell you the truth.

Do you blame your father?
I don’t blame him. Well I do for the way he treated me mam. But I done all me blaming years ago. I thank him in a way.

Why?
Because me and mam have got a bond and it's down to ructions from him. I've got a lot of me mam in me too, I'm positive and enthusiastic, I've got that determination and... will. She's a good woman so (big handclap) I'm a pretty pleasant kind of person.

Do you remember the night you moved out of your father's house?
Oh, I remember it. One night he was out, and he'd normally be gone for days with his... whatever (delicacy probably stops him saying something like his fancy women") and me mam goes, "I've got a removal van coming round." But then he does come back. Ma's going (behind h his hand) "Shit!" Then he says, "Oh, I might go out for a couple of pints." We're all, "Go on, have a good time." So we're loading the gear in the van, thinking, He’s gonna come back any minute and catch us. But he didn't and we left him with nothing but a mattress. Top. I've got over that. I used to be bitter. I'd go round me mates' and their mums and dads would be in love and sitting around watching TV and I'd be thinking, Fucking' hell, I've got to go home to that cunt. Now I’ve got me new life and I don’t think back to much.

You must have considered what kind
of a father you're going to be.
I think I'll be a great dad. Because I've got time for kids. In meself, I like 'em and I'm into teaching them. I'm good witht James. Teaching him right from wrong. I'm good with his manners. I don't want him to take mine on.

Do you swear in front of him?
I try not to. I don't swear a t him. But if I'm watching the football there's a couple of fuckin'effs and blinds come out and I go, I'm sorry about that, and he says, (very dignified) I understand, Liam - it's football. Shall we let him off, mum? He knows he's not to pick it up. He's got manners. Patsy's mannerful anyway. That's how I'll be teaching my kid. But I want to have fun with me baby, I don't want to be strict.

Do you have any fear of your father coming
out in you?
No. I'll never lay a... I'm not into... never. I'll never lay a finger on him. Not my cup of tea, mate. I've got too much of a conscience to be doing things like that.

There was a lot of publicity about you and Patsy
splitting up for a while at the end of last year. What happened?
Uh. We just had a break. We knew we weren't going to split up. I was drinking a lot and being fuckin'... what do you call it? What do you call it when you're not being sensitive? When you're not... caring for people's needs?

Self-centred?
That was it. I was on the lush so she decided to have a break until I sorted me shit out.

Was that part of the motivation for cutting down
on the booze?
Basically, yeah. I wasn't nice to be around. She's got a little son and I wasn't thinking about what it was doing to them. I couldn't see it. I mean, normally I'm great with James, but I was just fuckin' nuts on the booze. I was in touch with her all the time - (schoolboyish) she was smelling me breath to see if I was boozing. Everything shweet now.

Patsy will have had the baby by the time
people read this so everything will change, but right now what do you do with your day when you're not being a rock star?
A normal day? Get up about seven o'clock now. Downstairs, feed me cats. (Lights up) Then chase them round the house. I creep up on them, (mimes sliding along a wall to a corner, pounces) Woooerrrr!!!" and they go, "Shee-it!" and skid about the gaff. I do that for about an hour, gets me exercise in, me blood pumping and that. Then I sit down and watch The Big Breakfast.
About ten, James'll get up and we have a fight over the TV So l'll watch cartoons with him. Then I'll have a shower. Go for lunch with Patsy about twelve. Do a bit of shopping, see what they've got on the racks. Dinner Chinese. Play me guitar in the garden. Do the neighbours' heads in. Put James to bed about nine o'clock. Come down and watch TV - I like a Western, get right into them. Talk and off to bed... and then fuckin' wa-hay!
I haven't done a gig for almost two years and I've only started to come down in the last four months. That's why I'd always end up down the pub and in trouble. I really wanted to change, but half of it is I have to because I'm really looking forward to having the kid around a nice environment, not some maniac. me in and out to the pub.

It'll be interesting to see how everything goes
for you on tour.
I'll find out soon. But the kid and Patsy and James'll be with me. They'll come out two weeks at a time and we'll never leave it longer than two weeks apart. Noel and Meg are doing the same. It'll be fuckin' nice, do a gig, then see me family and go for a stroll. It'll be beautiful.
Might even get a smile out of me on stage, you never know. jokes between songs. I'm getting happy. I mean, I have been happy, but I've had happiness and moments of fuckin' (points downwards). When I'm happy I go and fuck it up. But now I'm sort of getting in the groove of this happiness.

How's your relationship with Noel?
The best it's ever been. Stronger.
We're fuckin' listening to each other and we've got time for each other. Which we've never had. We couldn't sit in the same room five years ago, let alone try to produce an album. He used to say to the press that I didn't give a fuck about Oasis because of me drinking, so I thought, Fuck it, I'll prove to you that I'm 190 per cent into this band and this album and if it means stopping drinking, so be it. I've done it and he thought I couldn't 'cos he was going, "Have you had a drink?" "Not for a couple of months." "Yeah right - you'll be back on the bottle." "No, not me, mate." So I'm not drinking and, in a way, he,s going "Bastard!"
And I've got a song on the album - that's a change. It's called Little James. For our James. It's really naive. But it's beautiful. It's big- I played it to Noel and he went, "Fuckin' top, I'd buy it." I wanted to play it acoustic, but he went and got the band around it and it's a big fuckin' tune now.

That was a breakthrough For you,
getting a song accepted by Noel.
I was pleased that he'd fuckin' listen to it and I'm pleased that it turned him on. That's good for me, that gives me confidence. But I've got a lot to learn. There's no point in going up to Noel and going, I've got this little bit of a melody and... Well, I used to do that and he'd say, Look, come back when you've finished the song, then I'll give it the time of day. He insisted I do it on me own. And that's the way it should be. So when something amazing hits me again, I'll quietly creep up on him ma be he'll

Have you always itched to prove yourself as
a songwriter?
You always want to fuckin' better yourself. I always wanted to learn how to play a itar for my own peace of mind, just so I could get out all that shit in there (points to his head), that frustration. Write words down and get what's in there out here. But I couldn't do it. Now I want to keep writing.

This is the'90s issue and Q says Oasis is The Band
Of The'90s. Might you go along with that?
I'd feel cheated if we weren't. We're the most hard-working band, the most successful band, we've sold most albums - we've fuckin' stomped it. Excitement, music, and a bit of lip. We're the most important band.

Important? Why?
We don't just sit about writing songs. We get up people's noses with our music. There's an element of pissing people off. That's important to me. You can go, We're all about music, but people want something else. I wanted it from my bands. I want to see what they get up to. Whose toes are they stepping on?

Do you make people's lives better?
I think we do... You're lookin' at me like I'm a mad cunt, aren’t you? But I think we give people a sense of, Yeah say what you want to say and don’t be afraid to say it.

In decade terms, how do you rate yourself as
a singer?
Erm. I don't think I'm a great singer as in range, I'm more of a shouter. But I'm exciting. I've got soul And I've got a fuckin' big bonfire in me stomach that needs to be let Out. I'm an angry little bastard. I like that.

Do you think Oasis may be the last great
guitar band?
Yeah. No, can't be. There'll always be rock ‘n’ roll. The day rock 'n' roll ends will be the day the fuckin' world ends.

What was your best moment of
the'90s?
Getting married was great. And then Knebworth, all them people there and up for it, that's what I'd always wanted to do, a big gathering like that in a nice place.

And the worst?
That nonsense in Australia was a nightmare.

Brisbane, the Fan who said you
butted him?
Yeah. Getting arrested and banged up. Handcuffs on me in court. Loads of Australians looking at me as though I was the antichrist. And it was bullshit. I was outside the hotel signing autographs and this fuckin' guy kept putting a flash in me face, like that (shoves hand six inches from Qs face) tsh, tsh, tsh, so I said to him, Look if you want a picture, I'll stop and do a picture with you. But he ignored me and just went, tsh, tsh, tsh, until I walked away.

Did you hit him?
I
didn't touch him.

Did your security guard hit him?
No.

But you eventually paid him to
withdraw his case (allegedly $60,000).
Because I didn't want to go back to Australia to stand trial. When we were standing in the court house I was thinking, I'm fuckin' stuck here. Ball and chain.

Do you remember what you were doing on New Year's Eve 1989?
No. That's what I was worried about coming here. I knew you'd ask about the past and I can't remember it, I was pissed! But probably I went round me mate's house and got stoned, listened to the Floyd and The Beatles and The Stones.

What are your plans for the millennium?
Nothing at all, man. I'm anti the millennium. Anti New Years Eve an' all. I don't do that. Stay in, close the curtains. I'll be with my wife, my baby and James. I'll be having a nice time. A pleasant time. And then the Monday morning of the year 2000 I'll be back at work, picking on people with a bad hangover, going, Right, you bastards, listen to this, you fuckers, here I am, let’s have it!