Liam Gallagher Chats about As You Were and His Hope for a Reunion with Brother Noel

It’s a warm day in Santa Monica, and Manchester-bred Brit Liam Gallagher, in town to discuss his first official solo album, As You Were, is sporting a jaunty new look that’s appropriately Californian: cargo shorts, a hooded nautical pullover, signature aviator shades, and his signature mod shag now trimmed to a polite 9-to-5 business length. As he caroms around his beachside hotel room, he could easily pass for some corporate executive, preparing to set sail with Muffy and Biff, Jr. on the company yacht. And, in fact, when he heads downstairs and out the front door for a periodic cigarette, no passerby even casually notices the man voted the Greatest Frontman of All Time by Q Magazine readers in 2010. Today, the ex-Oasis firebrand is just another mariner, waiting to hit the waves. And that’s the way Gallagher likes it. At least for the moment.

At his side everywhere he goes, dressed all in black, is his girlfriend and manager, Debbie Gwyther, whose affable nature and zany sense of humor belie a keen showbiz acumen and a watchful eye that’s always focused on the task at hand—namely laying the nuts-and-bolts groundwork for launching As You Were, which arrives Oct. 6 around the world. She stops periodically to check on flight schedules and guest lists for Gallagher’s hot-ticket showcase concerts in New York the following weekend. On her watch, no detail goes unexamined, and details are crucial at this stage in the game.

“God forbid there should ever come a day when I will look at a microphone in fear. Bring that microphone to me and I will rip it a new asshole!”

Gallagher, 45, is mounting something of a comeback with his solo debut, and all of his ducks need to be in a respectable row. He’s been in the wilderness, you see, dealing with: the 2009 departure from Oasis of his songwriting brother Noel Gallagher, which led to a steady stream of public acrimony that continues today (he regularly refers to Noel as “Potato” on social media); the splintering of his second group, Beady Eye, in 2014; and, that same year, the dissolution of his second marriage, to All Saints vocalist Nicole Appleton, in the wake of his learning he had a 2-year-old daughter from a brief affair with a New York journalist. He met Gwyther not long after, and she stuck by him through some of his darkest days.

When the lanky rocker sits down for an interview, he doffs his shades and addresses his bond with Gwyther first. And he struggles to find the right words for a minute—usually not a problem for the famously profane talk-first-think-later walking bullhorn. “She’s the one that gives me…I can…well, she reins me in when I’m a bit of a dickhead,” he sighs. “Without Debbie, I wouldn’t be here doing this. Without a doubt, I wouldn’t have gotten up the drive to do it. She was like, ‘Look, man, come on, you’re better than just sitting around all day. Come on and play your guitar!’ Because I was feeling a bit lost. When we knocked Beady Eye on the head, that was the first time in 25 years that I’ve not been in a band. And I was like, ‘Right. Well, I’m not gonna be in another one. I can’t be arsed to go through that again. And solo? Fuck that, man. I haven’t got it in me to make an album on my own.’ That’s when Debbie got me back on track.”

Read Paste’s review of Liam Gallagher’s ‘As You Were’ here.

Gallagher has always been remarkably candid about whatever he’s thinking, whether it’s his disdain for Noel (whose High Flying Birds also have an album coming out this season), or his uncharacteristically emotional response to the May 22 terrorist bombing at an Ariana Grande concert in his hometown of Manchester. During our chat in Santa Monica, he often jumped up from the table to act out the anger or frustration he was trying to communicate. In recent years, he said, his days would start optimistically with a refreshing run. “But around about the afternoon, I’d hit the pub, and around six or seven o’clock the old marching powder would come out, the cocaine, and then I’d be chasing my tail for three days,” he admits. “So you’d miss three days, and you’d chill for a bit. But then I’d do it again, and you’d be drinking and not eating, and before you knew it, you’d just be in a shithole. And that was just out of boredom, with nothing to do—no songs, no gigs to play.”

Meanwhile, he adds, divorce proceedings and other legal entanglements were starting to consume him. “I was dealing with lawyers morning, noon, and night,” he says. “I was living in that world, and it was all my own doing. So I’m not moaning about it. I’m sure people were going, ‘Well, you deserved it.’ But still, you have to navigate your way through this shit. Then all of a sudden, that stopped, and we were free to just… be again. So I think I’ve fucking learned my lesson. I’ve learned not to drink too much and take too much cocaine, because it sends you down a stupid path. I’ve learned to live in the moment and not think too far ahead. So we’ve got one record here, and we’re gonna play it loud and proud. And we’ll see where we up at the end of the year. I’m not thinking about a big solo career—it’s just one record at a time.”

If the man sounds unusually humble, it’s because he’s become more comfortable with his strengths and weaknesses. And those, too, he freely confesses. This would prove crucial to As You Were, which has become something of a catchphrase for him. “I’m all about the voice, man. When I look in the mirror, I see a rock and roll singer, not a songwriter.”

Liam Gallagher, left, with brother Noel in Oasis in 2000.

Indeed, when Oasis were at their peak in the 1990s, the chemistry between Liam and Noel was essential, but Noel was considered the brains of the operation, the composer. It was Noel’s songs that filled their seminal albums: 1994’s Definitely Maybe became the fastest-selling debut album in British history, and the follow-up, 1995’s What’s the Story Morning Glory, ultimately sold more than 20 million copies behind smash singles like “Wonderwall” and “Don’t Look Back in Anger,” making it one of the best-selling albums ever. Liam didn’t start penning Oasis tunes until the band’s Heathen Chemistry record in 2002. “I come up with a few every now and again, but I’m here to sing songs,” he says. “I’m here to be a singer, man.”