This makes me feel slightly better about being a remedial driver.
The 45-year-old rocker - who has sons Donovan, five, and Sonny, two, with wife Sara MacDonald, as well as 12-year-old daughter Anais with former spouse Meg Matthews - is being forced to take lessons by his spouse, but is so determined not to legally be allowed behind the wheel, he says he will deliberately fail if he ever sits his driving test.
He said: "My lovely wife is insisting I take driving lessons. She said, 'Who is going to take the boys to the football?' And I am like, 'Well you are.' But I have sussed it, you see. If I ever qualify for a test I will deliberately fail. I would rather be in the passenger seat. I would crash a lot of cars. I have had 40-odd years looking out the window."
The former Oasis guitarist also admitted his rock 'n' roll lifestyle means he isn't too keen on his sons reaching their teens but he won't advise them to stay away from smoking and drugs completely - so long as they remember one thing... Spouting his nuggets on Alan Carr: Chatty Man tonight (10.00pm, Channel 4), he said: "I am dreading them in their teens. My attitude is everything in moderation, but I have told them, 'You will never be as cool as your dad'." Ah, every teenager's red rag. While you're at it, tell them they'll never amount to anything and watch the megalomania set in.
As it happens, Noel's partying days appear to be behind him, what with the rough heads he gets nowadays: "I find hangovers dreadful now. Terrible. It's called age. I usually wake up still drunk and when I go out to get the papers I wonder which way the traffic is going (no wonder he doesn't want to drive). The longest bender I have been on? I went three days without sleep once and ended up in hospital but that was a good party."
I won't tell you the longest stint I've stayed up, it's not advisable. The one nugget I will dispense, however, is the following. Learn to drive before you get pregnant, Noel. Baby brain is a b*tch. That and lessons aren't that productive when you mount a pavement trying to move the car out of your estate, not once but twice, and then you end up crying for two hours 'cause there's no way you'll ever be able to drive the baby anywhere in an emergency.