Andy Welch talks to controversial singer Ian Brown who is doing his best to defy his image.

IF Ian Brown’s place as one of Britain’s best frontmen wasn’t secured by The Stone Roses’ first album - 20 years old this year and still sounding as exciting as ever - his six solo albums have done so.

Looking every bit the rock icon when we meet - his expensive-looking jacket has the words ‘Born To Raise Chaos’ embroidered on the back - he’s been talking about himself all day but he still sounds interested, although he claims the only thing more boring than talking about himself is reading about himself.

“Do I read my interviews? Mmmmm, sometimes,” the 46-year-old says. “Sometimes I do, if I see it. I’ll stand in the shop and have a quick perusal. Gets a few glances if someone catches me, though. Not very cool, is it?”

It’s been a long time since Brown, who plays Birmingham’s O2 Academy on December 18, has had to worry about appearing cool. Although it’s been a long time since he worried about anything.

“Why worry? You worry about something, it’s not going to change. If it’s going to happen, it’s going to happen. I’ve got a few grey hairs, but that’s just having kids. Actually, I worry about my kids. My lad’s 17-and-a-half now, so I’ll think ‘He’s out in his car, it’s 3am, where is he?’ But then I only worry he’s crashed because I’ll have to pay the insurance!”

Brown’s latest is entitled My Way. It’s bold, infinitely more personal than his last offering, The World Is Yours, on which Ian voiced his disapproval of the war in Iraq, conflicts caused by religion and politicians who stand by while there are children living on the street.

“I wanted to bring it back full circle,” explains Ian. “It’s not because I’m happier with those situations. I wrote the last album so that rather than sitting in interviews and talking about the war, I wanted to document it on an album.

“Newspaper quickly becomes chip wrappers but, with an album, I could record my thoughts on the injustices in the world. It’s then good to do the reverse of before, so this is about my life, my feelings and my way of being. Hopes, dreams aspirations and all of that. It’s upbeat, to connect with people and uplift.”

There are also some blunt messages, aimed, it would seem, at ex-bandmate John Squire. “You walked yourself into the wilderness,” he sings on Always Remember Me. “Those were the days when we had it all and these are the times I’ve got so much more.”

The first single from the new album, Stellify, was written for Rihanna. Ian’s sometime co-writer and producer Dave McCracken is signed to Jay-Z’s Roc Nation stable, the only Brit among them, and through his connections, Ian was invited to write for American artists.

“Vanity Kills was for Kanye West,” he says, “but we missed the deadline. Then we wrote Stellify and after a few days of loving the tune, I said ‘Let’s keep that for me’. I can hear her singing it and she’d do it better than me but I just love it.

“If I had another nine like that, I’d quit. Where would I go from there?”

Where indeed? In all likelihood, he’d quit music for gardening, something he threatened to do after the Roses split up. “I said things had got so messy that I just wanted a clean life and what could be cleaner than growing flowers and taking them to market?” he says.

It’s a phrase that might surprise some, who see the swaggering frontman, nicknamed King Monkey, and hear stories about him being abusive to air stewards or having on-stage altercations with security guards and write Brown off as a thug. Nothing could be further from the truth. He doesn’t drink, he talks about his kids - a young son Emilio with his wife Fabiola, and two from a previous relationship - and drops in heart-warming stories picked up from his travels.

If people do have the wrong impression of Ian, he knows why. “One person might perceive me as godlike,” he begins, referring to his NME Godlike Genius award from a couple of years ago, “and the next might think I’m a northern thug.

“I’ve not done myself any favours because I’m on YouTube fighting my security guard, but I’ve not had a fight since I was 14. I hit him in the arm.

“’A little film makes me look like a thug but what can I do about that? Most of the country thinks northerners are barbarians. How can I be macho? I’m an Englishman that doesn’t drink beer, which makes me a rarity and I’m a singer. That’s a bit effeminate, isn’t it? How can you be a macho man if you’re strutting around on stage singing?”