| He
arrives, sharp-dark pinstripe and pink shirt, having caught the train from
Surrey to his publicist's office. Hair immaculately dressed (if now succumbing
to the grey), perma-tan and all, Paul Weller must cut an attention-diverting
dash on the 11.48. Jawing away half-nervously on gum as he lifts the first
of a never-ending succession of cups of tea and sparks up a B&H, he
acknowledges as much.
"Yeah, but if I do get looks," he nods, "I don't notice
it, 'cause I'm kind of used to it." Not for him, either, Paul McCartneys
late-'60s tactic of jumping on the bus, keeping his head down and hoping
no-one notices. "Nah. I try and hold my head up. I'm proud, y'know."
Still, never the most interview-friendly of rock stars, Weller admits
that he woke up this morning "feeling anxious". He eyes the pile
of Q readers' letters laid before him with a muted, but audible sigh. "Some
people are used to this shit and some people enjoy it, but I've got a real
problem with it. Some answers to some questions... I've really no idea,
'cause I don't sit around and think about myself as a rock' n roll dad or
an icon or whatever. But then this sort of thing makes me think about shit"
Even his growing hunger, he realises, won't prompt a reprieve (an
hour later, in an area infested with middle-class sandwich bars, he tellingly
chooses to mix it with the hoi polloi down the chippie). And so the partly
reluctant icon - who, it's important to note, releases Modern Classics this
month, the third hits collection of his career-picks up the first letter.
Does anyone still call you John? James Davies, Cardiff
Nah. It's on my birth certificate, but no-ones ever called me that. My mum
changed her mind a week later, but it was too late by then.
Did you really punch Sid Vicious in a club? And if so, why? Daniel
McDermott, Whitby
'Cause he headbutted me. It ain't much of a story, to be honest. It was
in The Speakeasy, down Marlborough Street... he came up and nutted me so
I slapped him back. That was it, I got lobbed out the club or whatever.
I'm never proud of getting involved in anything like that. But I wasn't
looking for it.
Who's the best dressed man in music? Julian Appleyard, Wakefieid
Who gives a fuck? I wouldn't be so shallow to say if it's me or not. Liams
a pretty good dresser. Yeah, and Noel as well, I guess. Them two have got
pretty good taste, I'd say.
You've shunned all contact with Bruce Foxton and Rick Buckler since
The Jam split in 1982. What's so terrible about meeting up for a few beers?
Mike Lewis, Aberporth
'Cause we didn't used to meet up for a few beers before we split up. It
wasn't like we were three mates who formed a band - we were three people
who just came together because there was a lack of musicians in Woking.
Plus the fact, they were three or four years older than me. When you're
17 and someone's 21 or something, it's a universe away, innit? So it wasn't
like we were that close and they certainly wouldn't be the first people
I'd go out to have a beer with, especially since we've been in the courts
in recent years. I wouldn't knock 'em on any musical level. I mean, they
were the right people for The Jam. But as a social thing... nah.
What makes you laugh? Harry Reynolds. Hull
Right now, Brass Eye, Chris Morris, I just think he's a comic genius. His
mind's almost frighteningly quick. Like Peter Cook, maybe, but far quicker
and sharper. Surreal humour generally. I like Spike Milligan, stuff like
Q.
Did you really taunt Martin Carr out of the Boo Radleys at Dr. John's
Dingwalls gig by singing Wake Up Boo! derisively? If so, what were you thinking
of? Tanya Roberts, Darlington
I don't remember doing that. To be honest with you, I was so pissed, I can't
remember what went on. I probably offered to give him a fucking slap, but
I don't remember singing. I'm not a fan, no. Anyone who writes songs like
C'mon Kids, it smacks a bit of Jimmy Pursey. If you're 17 or 18, then you
write teenage anthems. Not when you're fucking 28 or something.
Is it true that you deliberately made your last album uncommercial
in order to get out of your record contract? Steve Carde, Walsall
No, that's bollocks. When I started making Heavy Soul, my contract was all
up in the air. Go! Discs got taken over by Polygram, so I thought, fuck
this. I'm gonna make the record anyway - same way I did when I made my first
solo album. Didn't have a deal at that time either. I wouldn't make a record
for contractual reasons anyway.
Cocaine: heaven sent or the devil's dandruff? Tim Vickers, Wrexham
Well, it depends how much you do of it. I'm sick of reading about all these
different groups moaning about My Drug Hell. Don't fucking do it then! It
can be fun, but you do anything too much, you're gonna fuck up. Simple
as that.
Can you be a mod and smoke spliff? Jason Squire, Norwich
Well, I can.
How do you feel now Polydor have released the last Style Council album,
Modernism: A New Decade, eight years after they rejected it? Nick Bird.
Bristol
I just feel... yes, fucking justice. It puts a big smile on my face. I got
a mastered copy a few weeks ago after they cut it and I hadn't heard it
for a couple of years. It sounds alright to me. I wish it had come out at
the time, even though it would've been slated, 'cause it was just made for
that moment. It'd have been too early for a lot of people. What we call
garage over here, deep house or whatever, it was still very much an underground
thing at that time. I could hear the R&B in it, that sort of gospel
thing. You had the Pet Shops doing Its Alright, so it was kind of filtering
through, but it was still pretty much underground.
Did you think you were fucked when Polydor dropped you? Sally Goss,
London E2
Uh... it wasn't just the fact they dropped me, l just felt kind of redundant.
I could feel that The Style Council were an anachronism by the end of the
'80s. Even I could feel it, y'know, how out of touch I was with lots of
things. So I felt more fucked from that point of view. That was probably
the icing on the cake when they dropped us. I wouldn't say it was devastating,
but I was lost. All those years, I always had a deal. We were always gonna
go on tour, we were always gonna make a record. Like any routine, you get
used to it. But it worked out for the best. Gave me a kick up the arse anyway.
Brought me down to earth in lots of ways.
What's the best and worst things about having your dad as your manager?
Cath Bramwell, Oxford
The best thing is he's my best mate, and I know he'll always do right by
me. And that's just his role as a manager. Outside that, I love him just
as the geezer he is. Probably the worst thing is you can't have a real stand-up,
fuck-off row. Well, you can, but there's still that thing where I don't
want to upset him too much or he doesn't want to upset me too much.
Any tips on being a rock 'n' roll dad? Ion Homage, Redditch
Dunno. Try and split them up, y'know. Do the rock 'n' roll and then, obviously,
come back and be a dad. You can't be a dad and be off your tits. But you
can do both.
On pain of death, you have to reform either The Jam or The Style Council.
Which is it going to be? Simon Ibison. Stockport
Fucking hell. I'd take the death, mate. Take my chances with the angels.
I think groups getting back together is naff. It never works. I think everything
has a time to shine and you have to know when to move on.
There's a photo of you during the early-'80s with a loincloth, tribal
make-up and a spear. What for? You looked like a twat. Vinay Talwar, Marylebone
Basically I felt just like being a twat, d'you know what I mean? I wonder
if Vinay Talwar's ever been a complete fucking twat. You should try walking
round Marylebone in a loin cloth and tribal paint, man. It's good for now
and again. I think it's a cool photo. I'm not embarrassed by it all. I don't
give a fuck. The only thing wrong with it was it was compromised. I wore
a loin cloth. I should've had me fucking tackle out.
Why did you smash up that hotel room in Paris?
Drink, I'm afraid. Excessive amounts of booze. All I'll say in my defence
is, I wasn't alone even though it was reported as such. We got let off.
We just paid the bill and fucked off and made the gig. It was a lot of money.
I don't know how much. (Laughs) Oh alright... about four and a half grand.
The enjoyment of it was spoiled because I was too pissed to remember it.
I'm not proud of it neither. I think it's sad in some ways, but there you
go. Shit happens.
A couple of years ago, you helped deliver a washing machine to my
cousin's house. Does this hint at a Future career when your musical ideas
dry up? Paul Burnett, Blackpool
Did I? Oh me secret's out, I've been doing a bit of moonlighting in my spare
time, delivering spare parts. I've no idea what he's on about. Dunno, it's
possible. But I can't remember going to fucking Blackpool.
Musically, have you become a stereotype of what you would have hated
when you were 17? L. James, via e-mail
Not at all. I'd have dug what I'm doing now when I was 17 and I wouldn't
have liked much else that's around. Maybe I wouldn't have liked some of
the ballads because I'd have been too young to appreciate You Do Something
To Me. But I'd have definitely liked Into Tomorrow or Changing Man and I
would've liked Heavy Soul as well. They've still got the bollocks that I
wanted at that age, they've still got that energy, they're concise. You
can talk about solos, but still, most of my songs are three-and-a-half,
four minutes.
Does it get any easier being in the public eye all the time? Jon Ricks,
Bristol
Yeah, I would say it does. I get less uptight about it. The papers... that's
a drag. There was a time when they were hanging around outside my ex-wife's
house... I can do without that. But I've never used the daily press. If
you use them when you're starting off, they'll come back on you. What I
do is more serious than that. They write about lifestyles and personalities,
y'know. They never write about music.
Why is it that you selfishly never indulge your audiences with the
odd Jam song? It would obviously give a lot of people a lot of pleasure.
Isn't that what it's all about? Jason Broodstock, London N8
Mmm. Well it is kind of about that, but I wouldn't totally agree with you,
'cause you've go to get pleasure out of it yourself. And people would see
if your heart wasn't really in it. I did this Charidee gig for Crisis recently
and I played That's Entertainment. It felt good, but I wouldn't want to
play it the next night. I guess it would be cool if I could just play them
when the mood hit me.
Was it true you snogged or had it off with Marilyn? Michael Brewis-Levie,
London SW15
No. He did offer to give me a nosh, but I declined. I was mildly interested,
but when it come to the crunch, I wasn't interested.
You always seemed so certain about everything. From socialism to Sta-Prest
trousers. Is doubt a symptom of growing older? Linda Goodson, London N1
Yeah, I think possibly that's right. Possibly doubt, but it's also that
kind of grey area as well. Its easy to see things in black and white when
you're younger - you're either for this or you're not. Things are much simpler
in that sense. The older you get, the more you see there's this big grey
mass as well. I've always had doubts about the whole process, the whole
machinery of the business. I don't really doubt the music. I'll still always
have faith in the music. But sometimes I doubt my place in it. Then I've
only got to do one good gig and I think, Fucking 'course I should be doing
this... this is what I'm supposed to be doing in life. But nevertheless,
those doubts still come into my mind.
How old do you feel? Phil McMinn. Midhurst
I feel my age, but quite comfortable with it, y'know. I'm 40 now and I had
my sort of crisis last year when I was 39. I kind of got over that, drank
my way out of that one, and I was alright. But this is a good age. I don't
know how it's gonna be past 45, 50. It might be a different thing altogether.
But now I'm still young enough and fit enough - touch wood, man - to still
be part of life, y'know. I have to say... I like it.
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