Forget Ex-Lax, I’ve discovered the perfect cure for internal blockages. It’s a simple process, which works as follows:

1. Agree to meet two of The Charlatans in Dublin’s über-posh Fitzwilliam Hotel.

2. Offer to get a round in without giving any thought to the cost.

3. While Tim Burgess and Mark Collins are umming and erring about what they want, notice that the drinks menu includes a dram of Knappogue Castle 1951 Whisky for £65.01 and a Vintage Brandy & Champagne Cocktail for £110.

4. Proceed immediately to the bathroom.

Fortunately for me, the boys are in the mood for a pint of Guinness, so I escape with only having to remortgage the west wing of Stately Clark Mansions.

It’s 2.30 on a Friday afternoon and, to be honest, Tim Burgess is a bit frayed round the edges. The official explanation may be “a punishing promotional schedule”, but I suspect there are other reasons for the sweaty brow, nervous giggling and inability to sit still for more than two seconds. Not that the 34-year-old – sheesh, where does time go? – isn’t his normal cheery self.

Runner-up to Norman Cook in the 2001 ‘Nicest Bloke You Could Hope To Meet’ competition, his affability may have something to do with the fact that The Charlatans have just released their best album since 1990’s classic opening salvo, Some Friendly. While not quite the complete musical reinvention that had been rumoured, Wonderland finds them taking on enough choice American influences for one wag to rechristen them “Sly & The Family Rolling Stone”. With Jim Keltner and Daniel Lanois on board, and Tim revealing himself to be the owner of a Curtis Mayfield-like falsetto, they’ve got a point.

“It’s our best record yet, which is not something I said about Us And Us Only or Tellin’ Stories,” Burgess imparts between mouthfuls of stout. “We knew as soon as the first four or five songs were written that we’d got something new and potentially special. My big point about America is that I didn’t want to be living there – which I have for the past four years – and not talk about it. Everything that I’ve known from the age of nothing to 30, I’ve had to relearn. That’s good for me. To keep learning, to keep living with a fresh and open mind. As unclouded and unjudgemental as possible. Just taking the flavour and sucking it in.”

As well as getting him functioning again on a human level – “For the first time in, I dunno how long, I feel properly alive” – the move to Los Angeles has enabled him to put The Charlatans’ first 10 years into perspective.

“We were given a gift at the beginning with Some Friendly and we neglected it because we were young,” he proffers. “We didn’t know what to do with the second one, and then on the third one we re-evaluated and decided to be a proper fucking band. It’s like what else can we do? Put me in McDonald’s and I wouldn’t be able to serve a fucking burger. I can’t do anything else. It was my mind thinking ‘let’s treat this with respect’.”

Recent events may have changed things, but certainly prior to the World Trade Center and Pentagon bombings, it was de rigueur for bands to slag off the United States. Or, in the case of the Manic Street Preachers, to go and shake hands with one of their sworn enemies.

“He (Nicky Wire) dictates what he thinks about the rest of the world from a house in Wales. That to me is stupid. I ain’t got nothing against him but, fuck it, you have to go and bloody search. Just sitting there and saying, ‘I know what’s right’, is bullshit. There are a lot of crap things about Los Angeles – it’s plastic and trashy and disgusting, but I love it. L.A. is a melting pot and melting pots make for great cities.”

Blinkered or not, the Manics’ worldview is one that’s shared by millions of young, superficially open-minded people.

“Great Britain takes the piss out of America so fucking bad, but yet you’ve got every little kid running around on a skateboard, cap turned backwards going, ‘Yo, dude!’ To then say that we hate the place is incomprehensible.”

Burgess can wince as much as he likes, but with Daniel Lanois and his funk, soul and blues brothers sitting in on the sessions, Wonderland does have a touch of the Joshua Trees about it.

“We played him the track (‘A Man Needs To Be Told’) and the next day he brought his pedal steel in,” recalls Mark Collins, kid-in-a-sweetshop-grin plastered all over his face. “He got it right probably third time round, but being a bit of a bully, I made him do another 22 takes! The only reason he did it is that he likes the song. We offered him $1,000 and he said, ‘No’.”

Although absent from the credits, another person who gave freely of their superstar time was Twiggy Ramirez.

“Twiggy’s a good guy who was invited along by the producer, Danny Saber,” Burgess resumes. “We asked all these great people to play on our record and not only did they say ‘yes’, but they wouldn’t take any money for it. We captured a Charlatans moment.”

My apologies if it’s the result of some unfortunate crotch-related accident, but where the fuck does that falsetto come from?

“The first time it surfaced was when Rob (Collins) died and I had to do his backing-vocals. Since then I’ve been practicing and waiting for my turn to come, which is now!

“Who are my falsetto heroes? Eddie Kendricks, Curtis Mayfield, Prince and whoever the lead singer was with The Flamingos. The Bee Gees have had their moments as well.”

Love it or loathe it – I’m definitely in the former camp – Wonderland has to be admired for the way it sticks to its musical guns the whole way through. Unlike, say, Standing On The Shoulder Of Giants, which flirted with dance and then, just as things were getting interesting, reverted to Britpop type.

“You know why the first song on that album (Fuckin’ In The Bushes) was great? Because it sounded like The Charlatans! That isn’t meant to be flippant or arrogant. I love Oasis and have learned as much from Noel Gallagher as I have Al Green. Good musicians teach each other things.”

Has Burgess’ immersion in L.A. culture extended to him venturing into South Central?

“I could pretend and say, ‘Oh yeah, I understand what’s going on there’, but I don’t. We drive through it every time we come from the airport and it just ain’t funny. You’ve got these huge tower blocks with all the windows smashed, and people getting shot.”

Having originally – along with Blur, funnily enough – been deemed the runt of the baggy litter, The Charlatans must derive pleasure from having outlasted the Stone Roses, Mock Turtles, Inspiral Carpets, Soup Dragons et al.

“We were aware that we were considered the runts of the baggy litter, but knew we’d amount to more than just bridesmaids. What matters, far more than any of that, is that I’m in a modern band making modern music. And that I feel ace!”

While the suspicion today is that he’s been up to some serious naughtiness, Burgess is adamant that marriage has curbed his worst excesses and – call the rock ‘n’ roll cops! – made him a better person.

“I’m really enjoying being a husband at the moment,” he gushes in decidedly non-laddish fashion. “It’s a masterstroke. It’s more important for a human being to be married to a partner than it is being in a band. People can forget. Mick Jagger forgot. Look at Jerry Hall… a beautiful southern woman, and he thought that his songs were more important, or more relevant, than his marriage and that’s fucking stupid.”

It’s not all unfettered joy in the Charlatans camp, though, with keyboard player Tony Rogers confiding later on that he’s been suffering from testicular cancer. He asks us not to go public with the news until the official announcement, which follows a fortnight later and says: “Hours prior to this year’s Wrexham show, Tony was diagnosed with a strain of cancer. He has since undergone an operation and has recently begun an initial series of radiology and chemotherapy treatment. During this period he has been at times quite poorly, very tired and has been forced to spend time in hospital or recuperation. The initial signs to his prescribed treatment are proving positive.

“He’s continued to work virtually unaffected. Our biggest problem is trying to slow him down. The concept of ‘taking it easy’ is not exactly in the Tony Rogers mindset!”

“You know what?” Burgess reflects. “Having survived all the shit that’s come our way these past few years, I’m beginning to think that we’re indestructible.”

That’s them, the Captain Scarlets of rock!

The Charlatans give their Wonderland album a live airing at The Point Theatre, Dublin on December 19th. Support is provided by Starsailor, and well, you really ought to be there