By: Decca Aitkenhead
Paul Weller resembles an elder statesman of rock so precisely, he looks almost too perfect to be true – like a flawlessly styled, slightly over-obsessive lead singer in a Paul Weller tribute band. He has the perfect elder rock star demeanour – a blend of watchfulness and worldliness, poised with prideful dignity – and the perfect rock star voice, all innits and ain'ts. He is disarmingly courteous, and friendly – even intimate – in that way only the truly famous tend to be, and has just returned from promoting his new album in Milan when we meet in a Notting Hill private members' bar. The whole thing couldn't be more vintage rock star – until he starts talking about his day, when it all gets less backstage Wembley stadium, and surprisingly like the school gate.
His 11-year-old daughter came home from hospital earlier that morning, he explains, having just had her appendix removed, and his two-month-old twin boys are letting him get no more than five h…