crucif_x

Suddenly he stops, claps eyes on your writer, crashes Hulk-style through the office door and, wreathed in a fug of Stella Artois, dumps himself on a sofa. He's a vision in suede-head muttonchops (today linked by a garrigue of stubble - an omen feared by seasoned Liam-watchers) and slightly wonky, extravagantly graded green Chanel sunglasses. "Big night last night," he chirrups. "Haven't changed me clothes." Meet the "new" Liam Gallagher: sensitive songwriter and attentive father of two- of Lennon, 5, and Gene, 3. In the flesh, he is a supermassive presence, prone to explosions, capable of bending the rules of logic to his will. An hour's interview will expose MOJO to dramatic re-readings of history ("The Germans or whoever it was blew our f*cking country up! We'd be eating sausages and an air raid would go off! Amazing!"), much admiring self-analysis ("I mean it more than Elvis! I f*cking whip Elvis's arse!"), and plenty of aggressive positivity ("It's a good world, man! Be happy and shaddapa your face!"). Like a prolonged blast from a psychedelic hairdryer, it can leave the victim feeling unsteady. Bandmate Gem Archer calls it "being Gallaghered".

LESBIANISM - Why settle for less? Melbourne, 1985