FLYING INTO KNEBWORTH

“Noel would spend hours on guitar, I’d be going, ‘Look, are you gonna be here all day doing this? Yeah? Right, I’m off to the pub, then.’”

“It was the way to be going into Knebworth, wasn’t it? You can’t be going in a fucking car, can you? You’ve gotta be going in a fucking chopper, man! Did we talk to each other on the way over? Yeah, but not about the gig, really: we were probably just going on about Man City or something. It just would have been, ‘Where’d you get them shoes from?’ or, ‘I fucking hate Man United,’ or, ‘What you having for dinner?’ Or, ‘How long is this fucking helicopter going to fucking take?’ I mean, I guess we were nervous, but not to the point where anyone was like, ‘Turn around!’ I didn’t feel scared one bit, man: all those people were there to see you and give you massive amounts of fucking love. We’d been touring loads, so the gig was a piece of piss. So, there was no big debate about the gig or anything. We never really chatted about shit like that anyway. Even when we got offered the deal, we just got back in the van and went back home, with all of us going, ‘See City got beat three-nil last night.’ Or, ‘Where’d you get them shoes from?’”