It's only rock'n'roll but I like it...

Shock, horror. Liam Gallagher attended the BRIT Awards this week and did something outrageous and said something stupid. Gee, what a surprise - but you've got to love him, he makes rock'n'roll, well, rock'n'roll. I think that's the only reason Oasis keep getting invited back to the BRITs is to spice up the night just a little. With Robbie Williams sober and sanitised, The Spice Girls now Spice Women and Amy Wino saying 'yes, yes, yes' to rehab, the award show needs some livening up.

For the past 16 years, the Gallagher brothers have made the rock scene interesting. I remember my 19th birthday clearly, some German friends of a friend gave me a disc called Definitely, Maybe and told me it was the best thing I'll ever hear, and they weren't far wrong. It started my love affair with Britpop - Blur, Pulp, The Stone Roses and, of course, Oasis started to push the alternative grunge rock off my CD player. Most Saturday nights were spent dancing at the Britpop night at Retro in Sydney's CBD. Music felt fresh and alive again.

Part of the fun was that the Gallaghers were always going to say or do something outrageous. Whether it was their war with Blur (who I have to admit I favoured a little more than their northern counterparts), a threatened boxing clash with Robbie Williams or just generally being loutish, loud and obnoxious. They take their sibling bickering to the world stage - who else but a brother could say I'm quitting the band but I'm going to continue making music with everyone else in the band except my brother. Plus, who else would we love to hate?

Sure they're tools, but I like my rock stars to be rock stars. Drunken stumbling, throwing TVs out of hotel windows and generally living life to excess. Nothing can bore me faster than a 'rock star' telling an interviewer about their passion for vegetarianism or how they're going to save the world. I don't want you to save the world, I want my inner hedonist to live vicariously through you.

My dad tells a story about how one morning after partying all night during Trinidad's carnival in the late '70s, he offered a sip of vodka to a man sitting in the gutter. The bedraggled man looked at my and dad and uttered: "You saved my life, man." It was Mick Jagger. Now, I don't know how true that story is, but it's a great one for dinner parties because you believe it might just be true.

Tonight I'm hoping to be thunderstruck as I see AC/DC perform live, I've heard it's an amazing concert. Though I'm sure Bon Scott will be rolling in his grave as his former bandmates are more likely to be sipping chamomile tea backstage than guzzling bourbon. I guess, though, it's a long way to the top if you wanna rock'n'roll.