In a few hours, Yannis Philippakis will leap from the balcony of The Olympia Theatre. Whether or not he knows it as he sits in the lobby of the Morrison Hotel is open to debate. His interviewer certainly doesn’t – the lone Foals member to make a daylight appearance following their first Dublin show the night before, he lets out a world-weary sigh as he plonks down in his seat and awaits the first coffee of the day.

Not that he isn’t open to chat. A deep thinker never reticent when it comes to delivering an honest, provocative line, he makes good company.

A year on from the release of his Oxford outfit’s third LP, the winningly self-assured Holy Fire, there had been murmurings from the band that they were ready to tone things down as they continue their jaunt around the globe.

If we took even a pinch of their intentionally outlandish, gonzo road stories – kicking security guys in the head, spitting, drugs, naked pool parties and all – from a 2013 Youtube interview to be true, then we can all agree that they’ve been “caning it”. By now, Philippakis should be ready for a woe-is-poor-touring-me outpouring on record number four. Instead, the topic perks him up.

“We did 155 shows last year and I loved every minute of it,” Philippakis says. “I like the madness. The oblivion of the rhythm of touring. I also feel very comfortable on stage. I prefer being on stage than not being on stage.”

With six post-Christmas weeks off, he insists the band are the right kind of refreshed. Whereas “last year was quite gruelling”, this week feels like “the biggest shows we’ve done to date.”

“You have to remind yourself that we’re just fortunate to be able to play music. Getting to be able to play your instrument every night in front of people is basically the dream for any musician.”

And if they admit the pre-show/post-show hijinks means not always remembering that on stage dream, at least they’re wracking up the offstage anecdotes. I guess you could call them dark horses.

Certainly heading back to the days of their debut album, Antidotes, Foals’ math rock tendencies coupled with their Oxford upbringing and education led large swathes of the music press to believe that the five were probably most at home pouring over a good book. Chatting about quantum mechanics over afternoon tea and tweed. Not that they’re not wholly enjoyable activities; Foals simply felt they had avoid that stuffy, privileged pigeonhole.

In 2008, Philippakis told Hot Press: “I didn’t really make friends at Oxford. It’s not as posh as people think but the people that are at Oxford are just incredibly driven, incredibly competitive. I ended up in my room writing Foals lyrics. Leaving wasn’t a massive wrench. We’re not interested in becoming doctors or lawyers or whatever you do. I just hate working. You know, we’re chronically lazy. The band is an excuse to sit around and write music.”

Looking back, has the band’s journey thus far been the very best way to put off getting a normal job?

“Yeah, it has,” he nods. “When I was growing up, I always wanted to avoid doing things that I perceived as boring. I wanted to do something where I would be free to travel and spend time in my own head. Every job I’ve had I’ve been really bad at. I was fired from most of the jobs that I had. I was really hard to work with, basically.”

To paraphrase Peter Cook, what was the worst job Yannis ever had? “Oh some of them were shit! Just average cafe jobs and stuff... I did manual labour for about four months. Movings and stuff like that. It was fun for a summer. I liked getting home and being exhausted.”

As with many twenty-something musicians with several LPs under their belts and the youthful wonderment wearing thin, Philippakis occasionally entertains thoughts of starting a family. Is the lifestyle conducive to raising kids?

“Well the answer’s no, isn’t it?”
Listening to Vampire Weekend’s Modern Vampires Of The City last year, Ezra Koenig seems to hope “settling down” is a viable option.

“Ezra just wants to buy a mansion in the Hampton’s! Nah, I’m only kidding. I think Ezra’s one of the greatest lyricists out there at the moment. I mean, I like the idea of settling down. I’d like to have children but I think me in the reality of that situation I think I’d get restless. I’d probably slack on my duties within the family. Whether I’d be unhappy and I’d end up smashing the place up or some shit... It’s hard to predict, because I think the moment you have a kid you’re changed so fundamentally in terms of your responsibilities. I want to be selfish for a bit longer and allow myself to invest all my time into being a creative person. I’ve got a feeling that that’s actually going to become increasingly unfulfilling.”

For now, that side of things has never been better. Recorded with Alan Moulder and Flood in their Assault & Battery studios in London, Holy Fire is the sound of a band revelling in newfound ability and creativity. It hit No. 2 on the UK Album Chart and earned critical accolades and a Mercury nomination.

“We probably feel more confident. I’ve learned to enjoy making music for it’s own sake. Trying to make something that surprises me, that I think is beautiful and that has some sort of power to it. I’m not really interested in trying to be the hippest person in the room or trying to be the biggest band.”

Foals have had that pressure before. “At the beginning, definitely. Back then in 2007/2008, not only were we perceived to be a trendy band, but also guitar music was quite trend-driven at the time. I’m glad those times are over to be honest. If I had my way I’d just sit in my pants in the studio for like years.”

Full ‘Brian Wilson in the sandbox’? “That’s really what I like doing – just sitting in the studio and making music obsessively. I get in at 10 in the morning and leave at three in the morning and I’ll make the poor engineer come back with me at the same time the next day. We won’t stop for lunch, we won’t stop for anything... I’m addicted to that process. I’m not really interested in anything else.”

The engineer has it easy. To capture the sound of Haitian voodoo on Holy Fire – an earthy record whose key line might just be “I’m an animal, just like you”, from ‘Providence’ – Foals sent interns down to the butchers so they could turn bones into percussive tools. “It was good for them! I would’ve liked that. All these kids, they just sit around and wait for old men to turn faders up on desks that aren’t even gonna be used in the next 10 years and they have to make these people tea. If I was one of those kids I’d be like fuck yeah, this is a real band, they’re sending me out to get shoulder blades from the high road and having to scour the gristle off it’.

A small part of Philippakis’ suspicion that the creation of all great albums must be an adventure. “Like, the Swiss Family Robinson attitude to making records! Doing stuff that adds another dimension so it’s not just some dude playing his guitar in front of a mic. I want it to have a quest. Rites of passage.”

As our conversation ends, it makes sense that Yannis Philippakis would take that attitude to the stage that night. And beyond. If you were wondering – the crowd caught him. No need to worry. Yannis wouldn’t.