There now follows a short statement.
When I was in my twenties I did some things I bitterly regret. I started smoking twenty cigarettes a day, in the mistaken belief that the habit added a dash of doomed romantic allure. For several months in 1993, I mispronounced the name of the Spanish wine region Rioja. Many of us, looking for tastier alternatives to cheap German white wine and budget Italian red wine, did this. Offered tickets to see the Stone Roses, I foolishly turned down the opportunity and went to see Paul McCartney play live instead. Later, I did go to see a new band called Oasis several times and, missing the point that the band lacked a worthy lyricist, briefly overrated their talent. I am not proud of any of this. It was a confusing time. It was the 1990s. After too many Rolling Rock lagers I even voted for Neil Kinnock. I was young, I didn’t know what I was doing.
But I can confirm that I never – never – took drugs.