MOJO: When Who Built The Moon? was released a year ago, you only did two big print interviews then disappeared. Liam has been everywhere. Was that you letting him have his moment in the Sun?
I’m genuinely not competitive. Really! OK, I was in the ’90s. Then we won – we won the ’90s! Then it was, “I’m not arsed any more”. (Sighs) Liam’s record comes out, and if the journalist isn’t asking a question about me, he’s inventing one for them to ask about me. He’s setting the agenda. When I do interviews it’s always, “I was on your brothers Twitter account this morning; he doesn’t like your wife much”. “I’m like, I haven’t come all the way to Peru to talk about that penis.” That would be a daily occurrence.
Then when my album came out and I’d gone on the road, I said to my office, “Look, I can’t be arsed.” If I don’t take a back seat here, this will go on forever, and it’s belittling. It’s beneath me. All that fucking squabbling brothers, you read about, and it’s fucking juvenile. I’ll let my music do the talking and whatever will be, will be,”
MOJO: So there wasn’t a pang of envy when Liam did Finsbury Park? Or was it “good luck to him”?
Good luck to him definitely. (Pause) Listen I know the true story of Beady Eye and how it fell apart. He left the band by text! The Prince of Darkness, The Man, he didn’t even have the balls to phone his bandmates. Because he got a solo deal, it was, See you later, lads. Then when he got his deal with Live Nation, no one was telling him, “Don’t do any Oasis songs, do your new stuff, that’s what your good at.” He got his thing now – which is effectively my thing – and when he’s headlining Finsbury Park I’m sat there watching Match Of The Day getting a PRS cheque for him playing my songs. But instead of making him happy, it’s made him worse. It’s made him even angrier (laughs).