TO AVOID FILLING this article with asterisks to denote swear words, it will help if you assume that every fifth or sixth word from Liam Gallagher’s mouth during the hour I spent with him began with an F. Only the US singer Kelis has come close for potty-mouthed prolixity in my two decades of interviewing music stars.
In other respects, though, Gallagher has mellowed. At a restaurant near his home in Highgate, north London, the former (and, definitely maybe, future) Oasis frontman sips a cappuccino with no sugar. He may just be back from a sun break he describes as such a heavy “seven-day bender” that he needs another holiday, but the days of dedicated, 24/7 hedonism are over. The star once synonymous with chaos and carnage reaches his half-century in September—and readily admits that he can’t hack it any more.
“That voice [in my head], which used to be very distant, saying, ‘Go to bed.
