Liam Gallagher: the man with the child in his eyes. Funny, unpredictable, hyperactive, bewitching and electric. The pitch-perfect but raw and emotional voice of his generation. The man of a thousand moods, mad for many different things.

Here are just some of the things about which he is mad this morning: the Wimbledon Lawn Tennis Association’s finals, of which he has been watching much between Neighbours. It’s top, and he’s going to the final. Patsy Kensit, his wife. She’s lovely and he loves her. Marriage: it’s top. Patsy’s young son, James, his stepson. They do everything together, they’re mates. It’s top. What else? Hooch, he has just discovered, is a pretty nifty drink. It tastes of orange squash, but it gets you pissed. Got to be a good thing. The island of Capri, where he recently vacationed, is a place of much beauty, tranquillity and mystery. And the word cunt. One of his favourites.

“Cunt is a great word. I’m a cunt, you’re a cunt, he’s a cunt. Top swear word. Cunt!”

So, yeah, Liam is mad for many things, but chat?

“No, I’m mad for that.”

And he is, he’s mad for chat. Mad for it right up until he sits down in the brightly lit make-up room and gets himself involved in the whole question-and-answer thing. He’s polite and accommodating, he’ll answer any question asked. But if he can answer it in one word, then he will. See, he’s also pretty mad for getting out of here and going to Paris. Contrivance isn’t really his bag.

Last time NME interviewed you, you said you loved being a pop star. Is that still the case?
“No, I’m not a pop star. I’m a rock’n’roll star. And I’m mad for it.”

Even with all the tabloid press and TV intrusion you suffered?
“I like that. I need them, need them to give me a kick up the arse. Otherwise I’d just be sat in getting fat, counting all me money. It’s good people living on your doorstep and looking through your bins. Gives you energy.”

What happened, then, when you left that last American tour at Heathrow, claiming that you had to go look for a house?
“I went to get a house.”

Why did you wait until then?
“Because we’d just sold the house that day, right, and we had to get out in the next 10 days. I thought, ‘FUCK it, I’m not going to America if I’ve got nowhere to live, spending two weeks in a hotel in America and then coming back and going to a hotel in England.’ It’s not on. No chance. Loads of people staring at you onstage all the time and you’ve got nowhere to live? You need a fucking home. Everybody does. It’s the most important thing in life.”

Were you surprised about all the fuss it caused in the papers and on television?
“Yeah! Saying I don’t give a shit about America! ’Cos I do! But we should’ve sacked that tour anyway. Should have stayed at home and had some time off. Stayed at home and made the album.”

Are you pleased with Noel’s new songs?
“Top! The album is great, just great. Once we’re all together as a band then that is normality. The rest of it is bollocks. Loads of fucking knobs who don’t know how to shag chasing you around with cameras. Should be home with their wives, taking the dog for a walk.”

What do you think the single is about?
“Dunno. It’s personal. I can’t tell you what it’s about. If I say it’s about people putting shooters to your head and he [Noel] comes and says something else, then it’s whatever. You gotta decide yourself. But it’s top. It’s Oasis.”

What’s a typical Liam Gallagher day like, what do you get up to?
“Get up at six o’clock in the morning. Jog around the park. Shit and fart all day. No. Just sit in, really. Do a bit of shopping and try and keep it as normal as possible. I am normal, I’m just a normal lad, but life’s fast. You’ve just got to take it easy, calm it down. Watch Neighbours. I’m sick of Neighbours, though. We did those gigs in America. Came home. Chilled out. Didn’t play golf. Just being a good husband, really.”

How is marriage?
“’King top!”

Your marriage was a pretty tricky manoeuvre.
“All that tabloid stuff is a pain in the arse, isn’t it? Gotta be done, I suppose, got fuck all else to write about. I’d rather they wrote about me than some other dick. I’m interesting.”

Do you want to have kids?
“Yeah! I want 20! Sell 16 and keep four! Take the eyebrows off, though, they don’t come with the eyebrows!”

If you had three wishes, what would they be?
“To live forever. No, I don’t want to live forever. I will live forever. Love and peace, I’m a hippy, me. And I want to get a few quid in the back pocket and chill, know what I mean? I’m happy now, got everything I want, done everything I want to do. I’m 24 years old, from Burnage, Manchester, it’s more than I could ever imagine. But the aliens might land in 1999. You never know, do you?”

Do you believe in aliens?
“Mmmm. Course I do. I’m not frightened by them, though. I’m as smart as them. Probably thick as fuck, aren’t they? Big goggly-eyed big heads, man, they haven’t got a fucking clue, if they did they would come out and sort us out because we’re as thick as fuck. I’m not frightened of them.”

Do you fancy space travel?
“I’m well up for it. Only if I could get back, though, I wouldn’t want to get lost in space. Fancy just nipping in and nipping out, just check it out. I’d do their fuckin’ heads in, them aliens, man. Freak ’em right out. They’d be like [puts on Mash Means Smash alien voice], ‘Farking hell, farking hell! Let’s get back to Planet Knob!’ I’d do their heads in, me, frighten the life out of them! That’s why they haven’t landed yet. They’re going [for some reason these now are Cockney aliens] ‘FUCK that, can’t land while he’s about!’ I’d take ’em out and get them fucking slaughtered. I would make ’em turn green then!”

How are you and Noel getting on?
“Smashing. Still have the odd fight… actually I want to smack him now! Right in the kipper! No, great. Everything’s fine. We’ll never split up, we’re brothers. And if Oasis ends, then it’ll end on a high. Who knows? We might still be together in 50 years, still playing music, which’ll be nice.”

Have you learnt to play guitar yet?
“No, I’m getting there, though. I wrote something the other day, on me [Gibson] Hummingbird. It’s called ‘The Lost Chord’. I’ve not really wrote it, I’ve wrote the tune, I’ll start on the lyrics next. Do you know Scarface? It’s like that, moody as fuck. I don’t know whether to have a skiffly beat, or a slow one, keep changing it.

“Whatever happens in the future is good, though. I’m an optimistic bastard, me. There’s a lyric on the record that goes, ‘They’re trying hard to put me in my place… but the future’s mine, it’s your disgrace…’ That’s us, man.”

And that’s Liam Gallagher, off to the pub with his minders to get pissed before catching a train to Paris to get pissed. A normal millionaire heartthrob from Burnage, Manchester, a regular lad who’s so far ahead of the opposition now that he’s had to start a slanging match with bands from outer space.