”You spend a year, eighteen months working on a record and then those cunts steal the number one from you with their pop-by-committee. I wouldn’t mind if they were into the music, but if they hadn’t got that gig they’d have auditioned for Cats or a summer season in Blackpool. Somebody needs to get an AK-47 and sort ‘em out.”

He may be “scrummy enough to eat” – © a female Hotpress employee who shall remain nameless – but Kelly Jones would happily participate in the ethnic cleansing of Hear’Say. Or, indeed, the other production line popsters who are currently clogging up the top 30.

“The only word to describe this year’s BRIT Awards is ‘fraudulent’,” the Stereophonics mainman continues. “Everybody knows that Craig David should’ve swept the board, but because he’s not on a major label, he went home empty-handed. The guy’s one of the greatest soul singers Britain’s ever produced, and what do they do? Give ‘Best Newcomer’ to A fucking 1. If that happened in any other walk of life, there’d be a criminal investigation to see who the guilty parties were.”

Having reluctantly ruled out the assault rifle option – “I’m too pretty to go to jail” – Jones & Co. stuck it to Hear’Say in the best way possible by charting their Just Enough Education To Perform album at number one on both sides of the Irish Sea. Combine that with sold-out shows at Donnington Racetrack and Cardiff’s Millennium Stadium, and there’s a case for Stereophonics being the biggest rock band in Britain.

“If someone had said to me five years ago that we’d be headlining in front of 50,000 people, I’d have asked them what drugs they were on,” he resumes. “More surreal still is the fact that we’ve got The Black Crowes supporting us.”

It’s official. Stereophonics would rather hang out with hairy southern boogie merchants than Belle & Sebastian.

“I just find a lot of those purist indie bands dull – especially on stage where they’re almost frightened to break sweat. The Black Crowes, on the other hand, are Christmas, Saturday night and your birthday all rolled into one.

“We met ‘em a couple of years ago when we were both supporting Aerosmith at Wembley Stadium. They were on before us, which given that we started off playing Black Crowes covers in pubs, was a bit of an injustice. Anyway, we kept quiet about that and had a great time polishing off the rider together.”

While Jones isn’t one to brag, it appears that the Stereophonics are far more adept in the Wild Turkey-quaffing department than Noel Gallagher.

“The lightweight passed out in their toilet after getting stoned with them in Shepherd’s Bush,” he sniggers. “Half-past eleven and Noel’s fucked!”

The band’s rawk ‘n’ rawl infatuation doesn’t end there, with drummer Stuart Cable confessing to being the world’s biggest Journey fan.

“I tell you, Escape and Frontiers are far superior to anything that Muse have come up with yet. Do you know how much they wanted for supporting us this summer? Forty grand a show! They’ve only been in it five minutes and they’re looking for telephone numbers. When we were at the stage they are now, we got £250 a festival plus whatever beer we could nick from the headliners. Needless to say, we told ‘em to ‘piss off!’

“Getting back to my original point – I hate the revisionism that goes on in music. The first time we talked to the NME, the guy laughed in our face ‘cause we said we liked AC/DC. Three years later, they suddenly decide they’re hip and stick ‘em on the fucking cover! Damon Albarn wouldn’t know an AC/DC song if it punched him in the face, but that didn’t stop the twat wearing one of their t-shirts on Top Of The Pops.

“The best thing about doing that Toxic Towers show at Wembley – apart from getting pissed with The Black Crowes – was Steven Tyler telling us all of his Bon Scott stories. He turned to me at the end and said, ‘Did you meet Bon yourself?’ and I went, ‘Fucking hell, man, I was only six when he died!’”

Further probing reveals a collective penchant for Led Zeppelin, Creedence Clearwater Revival, The Kinks, The Eagles and, ahem, Bob Seger & The Silver Bullet Band.

“‘Take those old rock ‘n’ roll records off the shelf…’” Jones croons or, to be more accurate, croaks in that 60-a-day voice of his. “The thing that Bob Seger and those other artists have in common is, regardless of whether there was five or fifty thousand people there, they went on stage and entertained.”

Following what they admit were “two or three complete fucking disasters”, Stereophonics have adapted to stadium life with an ease that’s reminiscent of U2 and REM.

“It’s a bit of a brown trouser job at first but, really, it’s the same as any other show in that there’s a crowd which needs entertaining,” the Jones boy continues. “U2 and REM are a good example of bands who, despite being huge, haven’t disappeared up their own arses. Not that we’re in the same league as them yet. It takes a lot of years, and a lot of records, before you hit those sort of highs night after night.”

Hoping that some of that guile can be absorbed through osmosis, the Stereophonics are partaking of an early afternoon beverage in The Clarence Hotel. It’s an establishment that Jones last frequented in March, when himself and Noel Gallagher celebrated a successful Vicar St. gig by getting trolleyed.

“I was shitfaced,” he confirms. “It was a bit of a pot-calling-the-kettle-black scenario, but Noel warned me about the dangers of touring with U2, which we’re doing on and off in July and August.”

What were the Gallagher words of wisdom?

“He said they drink a lot, and Bono ends up getting on the bar and singing opera. I knew I had a few arias up my sleeve that I could retailiate with, so it was cool.”

While there have beern no reports of any Pavarotti-style activity, a managerial dickie-bird tells us that there was copious inter-band partying last week in Copenhagen. And Stockholm. And Paris.

As relative rock ‘n’ roll novices, can they get a handle on U2 going through what they have done without shedding any members?

“They obviously made a decision early on to stick together and sort out whatever grievances they have in private,” opines Richard Jones. “The difference between us and, I dunno, Oasis, is that we never admit to beating the shit out of each other. Or taking superhuman amounts of drugs. Which, actually, we don’t. The strongest thing you’ll find going up our noses is a Vick’s inhaler.”

U2 have gone on record as saying that if one of them quits, that’s it, odyssey over. Is that how the Stereophonics think?

“No, we can’t wait to fuck Kelly out and get someone in with long hair and tattoos,” the other Jones deadpans. “The band has always been a combination of our three personalities, so if somebody decided to leave it’d make a huge difference. My gut reaction is, ‘Yeah, we’d call it a day’, but then you look at how REM have adapted to life without Bill Berry and think, ‘Hang on, let’s not be premature’. All of which is a very long-winded way of saying that, ‘We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it’.”

While we only have their word for it that they’re not £500 a day crack addicts, there’s a vim and vigour about the Stereophonics, which suggests that they’re unlikely to become the new Happy Mondays.

“Drink, drugs, blowjobs…we’ve been offered every single thing there is,” Kelly Jones resumes. “It’s up to you to decide which, if any of ‘em, you want to take. I’m glad that this has all happened to me relatively late in life, ‘cause if I was 18 or 19 I wouldn’t be able to see through people as easily as I do.

“Then there’s the daft stuff like being asked to pose naked for Cosmopolitan. I just laughed and said, ‘There’s no way I’m getting my lad out for anybody. The old fella stays in the jeans unless provoked.’”

I don’t get it myself but with his cute dimple, finely chiselled cheekbones and ‘come to bed’ eyes, the 27-year-old is regarded in some circles as a bit of a ride.

“I don’t wake up, look in the mirror and go, ‘you sexy fucking rock star, you!’” he lies. “If others think of me as a one-man orgasmatron, though, what can I do?”

This is said with the false modesty of somebody who knows that they can walk into any nightclub and pull. Which he presumably has been following the break-up of his marriage?

“That’s a very News Of The World line of questioning,” he laughs. “It’s definitely harder to maintain a relationship if you’re in a band, but if there’s enough there, you’ll find a way to make it work. My situation is that we’d been together a long time and things had run their course. Uninvent the Stereophonics and I’d still be single.”

Instead of dwelling on the negative aspects of his existence – “If I wanted to do that I’d join Radiohead” – Jones prefers to talk about the upside of rock ‘n’ roll life.

“Having Paul McCartney come up and say ‘hello’ is something you can’t put a price tag on,” he says with a genuine sense of wonderment. “What did we talk about? Mostly the times when he went hitchhiking round North Wales as a kid.”

There must have been at least one Fab Four question?

“I asked him about George Martin being the fifth Beatle and he said, ‘Yeah, he was’. My main priority, to be honest, was not making a fool of myself.”

Jones may have made his feelings about Hear’Say abundantly clear, but there’s one boy band member that he’d happily give his last Rollo to.

“We’ve met Keith Duffy a couple of times and he’s a really, really nice bloke. It’s a bit one-sided in that he loves our music, and we hate his, but apart from that we get on like a house on fire.”

“Actually,” Stuart Cable interrupts, “I was always jealous of the fact that all he had to do was turn up. He got paid for going on a six-year bender which, let’s face it, is everybody’s dream job.”

Talking of such things, have they ever rubbed maracas with Bez?

“He’s a lovely guy but completely off his fucking nut,” the drummer continues. “We did a free festival with the Mondays and all their entourage were walking around like zombies. It was, ‘Memo to self: don’t take drugs.’ Honestly, I’ve never seen a group of people who were so out of it.”

While we were all jolly flattered that the Stereophonics chose to launch Just Enough Education To Perform at the Olympia – a killer show by the way – it wasn’t Cuba, was it?

“We wanted to go to Kabul and do a gig with the Taliban but we couldn’t grow the beards in time. No, with the greatest respect to the Manic Street Preachers, they ought to get out more.”

Correct me if I’m wrong but they don’t seem to have much time for rock ‘n’ roll revolutionaries.

“They’re going for the Che Guevara with guitars image, which would be okay if they didn’t look like three naughty boys on their way to scouts. They just don’t convince me.”

They mightn’t come across as political animals, but mention Welsh nationalism and you soon see another side of the Stereophonics.

“That ‘English people not being welcome’ line which one Plaid Cymru bloke came out with is obviously rubbish, but going back a bit, I can understand why all those holiday homes were burned down,” Cable proffers. “With so many yuppies coming in, house prices escalated to the point where locals, who didn’t already own property, couldn’t afford to live there. If I was forced out of the village that generations of my family had grown up in, I’d reach for the petrol can too.”

This seems an opportune moment to ask them what they think of Anne Robinson.

“She’s a knob, isn’t she?” volunteers Kelly

Jones. “Her saying that Wales is rubbish is just another example of the bullshit that we have to put up with from the London media. If she wants to make a programme out of it, though, there are plenty of people in my local boozer who’d like to discuss the topic with her. Preferably down a dark alley at closing time.”

Staying with the subject of unwarranted attacks, what have us poor journalists done to deserve ‘Mr. Writer’?

“I think some of ‘em are cunts. All of my songs are about people I’ve met and places I’ve been, and given the nature of what I do I come into contact with a lot of journalists. I could’ve written it about cab drivers, but Lenny Kravitz beat me to it.

“The journalists I’m talking about – and I’m sure you know a few of them yourself – are the ones who don’t give a shit about music, and use bands to boost their own celebrity. As somebody who’s been leached off in the past, I think I’m entitled to have a go back.”

Sidelined for much of May and June with a chest infection, Jones is now fully fit again and looking forward to seeing 50,000 familiar faces this weekend in Cardiff. Along with the aforementioned Black Crowes, support will be provided by the (cheaper than Muse) Ash and Noel Gallagher’s latest protégés, Proud Mary.

“Yeah, fucking Gallagher shanghaied me into that! We were down the pub one night – him, me and the band – and he said, ‘What about giving these young fellas a gig?’ Pissed as a cunt, I go, ‘They can support us at Donnington’, which needless to say he’s now holding me to.

“To be fair, they’re a shit hot rock ‘n’ roll band. The singer’s an ex-army boy who goes absolutely ballistic on stage.”

Of course, Irish fans will be able to feast their ears on the ‘phonics in August when they B&I their way over for the Witnness festival.

“We were really gutted last year having to turn down Slane, and if the biggest band in the world hadn’t got in before us, would’ve happily done it this time round. That not being possible, we’ve looked for the best alternative which everybody tells us is Witnness.”

Any plans to look up Westlife while they’re here?

“You know what? Maybe I will buy that gun.”

Stereophonics headline the main stage at Witnness on Saturday August 4th.

“IT’S ACTUALLY ONE of the six wettest places in Europe.”

Thanks a bundle for not telling me that before, Mr. Bleedin’ PR Man. T In The Park is about to welcome its Saturday night headliners, Stereophonics, and yours truly is muddier than a hippopotamus on dirty protest.

Not for the first time in my life, I’m wondering what the fuck I’m doing standing in a cow field when there’s a perfectly serviceable episode of Casualty on the telly.

Anything less than a classic gig and, I tell you what, Kelly Jones & Co. are going to feel the rough end of my nib.

One thing you can always depend on with Stereophonics is that they’ll get a heroes’ welcome. Particularly in Scotland where your average punter likes nothing more than a boozy sing song.

Which is precisely what ensues when the band start their set with not one, not two, not three, but four songs from Word Gets Around. Despite guitar problems, ‘Local Boy In The Photograph’, ‘A Thousand Trees’, ‘Traffic’ and ‘More Life In A Tramp’s Vest’ all sound as fresh and spiky as the day they left the rehearsal room.

Ditto ‘The Bartender & The

Thief’, ‘I Wouldn’t Believe Your Radio’ and ‘Pick A Part That’s New’, which are almost invigorating enough to make you forget that you’re ankle-deep in shite.

The only time when the energy level dips is when the band delve into Just Enough Education To Perform. While no one – except the bloke who’s projectile vomiting next to me, perhaps – can deny their hummability, the likes of ‘Mr. Writer’ and ‘Have A Nice Day’ aren’t muscular enough to grip a 40,000-plus crowd.

Minor gripes aside, though, this is the sort of fare that has you counting the days until Witnness.