Paul Weller: 'Celebrity culture is bonkers. She's too thin, she's too fat. Make up your mind'

Two pop groups, 12 solo albums, seven children with four women, and one hell of an attitude. At 55, Paul Weller shows no signs of slowing down, says Craig McLean

He might be releasing a ‘best of’ album — another one — but don’t go thinking that Paul Weller, a new father for the sixth and seventh time (twins John Paul and Bowie were born in January 2012), is winding down. It’s knocking on 40 years since he formed The Jam, but Weller, 56 this month, has his 12th solo album on the go, a clothing range coming out and still he finds time to go to the gym.

 It seems this new lease of life has coincided with his giving up alcohol. When I ask the lean, tanned Weller why he gave up, he replies, ‘Just because I needed to.’ He acknowledges that he was ‘definitely’ an alcoholic. ‘It was just time for me to quit, simple as that. I was getting to the stage where it wasn’t working for me any more. And I couldn’t handle the hangovers. It was taking me two, three days to get over it. And you get dark and depressed and all that shite. I’ve done it before with one kid, and that was hard enough. But with twins…’

It was the wellbeing of his youngest boys that recently caused Weller to forswear his normal media reluctance. He took Mail Online to court after it ran paparazzi pictures of the twins and his teenage daughter Dylan and failed to blur their faces. He won the case, with the newspaper group ordered to pay £10,000 in damages.

‘I don’t give a f*** about the money. Just don’t print photos of my kids — and if you do, pixellate their faces. It’s quite simple. I can’t say too much about it,’ he adds with a slight grimace, alert to ongoing legal ramifications. ‘But listen, man: in any other walk of life, if you’re down the park with your kids and you saw some c*** taking a photograph of them, let alone publishing it, you’d have a f***ing word. So what’s the difference? Because they’re “celebrity children”?’ he says, spitting out the phrase. ‘They’re just children. I’m not a celebrity. I’m not a part of your f***ing culture,’ he says as we park ourselves on benches outside his Black Barn studios in Surrey, down the road from where he grew up in Woking.

Weller has weathered some tabloid heat in the past on account of his love life. He left his partner of 13 years for Hannah Andrews, a backing singer on his 22 Dreams album, who is almost 30 years his junior — they married in 2010 — and he has seven children by four different mothers. That said, does he think female celebrities have a harder time from the media? ‘Yeah, it’s just bonkers — she’s too thin, she’s too fat. Make your mind up! I don’t know,’ he frowns, reaching for fag number five (or is it six?). ‘Isn’t it all just about filling up people’s heads with shit? It’s like Saturday-night TV — it’s just a way doping the masses. Keep us drugged with religion and sex and TV.’

And speaking of the more cynical side of popular culture, Weller is famously firm in his refusal to countenance reuniting The Jam, even as heritage rock and the comeback carousel have proved hugely lucrative. What, then, does he think about his pals The Libertines getting back together (again) for a sold-out Hyde Park show this summer? He screws up his face. ‘Listen, I love The Libertines. But you know my feelings on people getting back together. I’m arsed,’ he says, meaning he’s not arsed. ‘But at least it’s all the original members. I suppose that’s something.’

Does he think Noel Gallagher will hold the line and not yield to the increasing clamour for an Oasis reunion? ‘I would have thought so, wouldn’t you? He’s in a great place now. I love that High Flying Birds record,’ he enthuses of the elder Gallagher’s solo project. ‘I don’t want to speak out of turn, but he’s played me a couple of things from the next record and they’re f***ing great as well. He’s in a good creative place, so why would he do it? Well,’ he adds with a snort, ‘I know why people would do it — for money. That’s the bottom line.’

Last month marked 20 years since the explosion of the Britpop scene over which the Modfather, who led The Jam and The Style Council before becoming a Brit award-winning solo artist, was anointed godfather by Gallagher. ‘Eh?’ says Weller. ‘I didn’t even notice it had been that long. What ha Weller grew up in a working-class household in London’s commuter belt, and music was always his passion. He formed The Jam while still at school and in 1977 the upstart band supported The Clash. Weller hasn’t stopped since. And as his 15-year retrospective album More Modern Classics attests, he has hit a remarkable mid-life purple patch. His last three albums — 22 Dreams (2008), Wake Up the Nation (2010) and Sonik Kicks (2012) — have contained some of the most energetic, adventurous music of his career. And that’s saying something. It’s only four years since he gave up the booze, which means Sonik Kicks ‘was the first record I ever made sober’.

He’s all about the here and now, and has most recently been loudly berating music-biz initiative Record Store Day (an annual celebration of vinyl intended to boost vinyl sales for independent store owners) after he discovered that his limited-edition contribution, the single ‘Brand New Toy’, was immediately being reflogged on eBay. ‘It’s such a shame because I’m a big supporter of independent record stores, but the greedy touts making a fast buck off genuine fans is disgusting and goes against its whole philosophy. There were copies of my single on eBay the day before Record Store Day and I’ve heard stories of people queuing outside their local record shop only to be told there were none left at opening time.’

Talking of unfair dealings, what about Lily Allen’s complaint this month that she’d only earned £8,000 from her John Lewis Christmas advert? ‘I’ve no idea and I’m not interested, mate. I don’t know what this Christmas song is. What was it called? So Marks & Spencer has got a record label now?’ he says, the picture of puzzlement. ‘I’m out of touch with the kids!’ he laughs. ‘I’ve either been stuck in here in the studio in a bubble, or I’ve been changing nappies. I’ve been running about like a f***ing nutter! On a totally different subject, do you like that Villagers record, ‘Occupy Your Mind’? It’s f***ing great, man. It sounds like a glam rock tune.’

This, refreshingly, is typical Weller. Still argy-bargy in all the right places. Always sweary. Still blithely unconcerned with trends and the topics he’s ‘supposed’ to entertain, forever hungry for new bands, new tunes, new vibes. He likes rough-hewn Irish R&B teens The Strypes, a ‘good little band’ for whom he produced a single. He loves Edinburgh hip-hop outfit Young Fathers: ‘That track ‘Get Up’: f***ing wicked. New-sounding, really discordant.’ And he still champions Jake Bugg, the talented young singer/songwriter who comes closest to inheriting the Weller mantle (haircut, grump, stone-faced pout). ‘I like what he does but the second record sounds the same as the first one.’ But this elder statesman approves of Bugg’s always-grafting work ethic. ‘Which is right as well — keep doing it until you get better at it.’

Weller still lives by this philosophy. I’ve interviewed him several times over the years and his instincts remain as working-class-hero sharp as his cheekbones. He asks as many questions as me: Do I like this song? Why am I asking him this ridiculous question? It’s confrontational, but in an enquiring, (mostly) cheerful way rather than a grumpy old rock-star manner. During my visit to Black Barn, he hustles around in his suede loafers, chain-smoking, preferring to stand rather than sit, his cagoule-style parka firmly about his shoulders, even when he’s indoors at the mixing desk playing me songs from his work-in-progress solo album.

And in the middle of everything he is rehearsing for a summer of gigs, including three small London shows next week. July also sees the ‘e-tail’ launch of his first clothing line, Real Stars Are Rare. ‘It’s obviously Mod-centric, quite smart, sort of classic things really. Not fashion. Double-breasted jackets, couple of mohair suits, some nice strides, really lovely knitwear. It’s not gonna be cheap, but it’s good materials, good cut. Go for quality rather than just the usual.’ Sounds like the story of his life. ES
More Modern Classics is out on 2 June