ANT Genn has only just woken up. I know because my phone call roused him from a deep slumber at half three in the afternoon. He sounds groggy, disorientated, but within seconds he’s up to ranting speed.

And he does love a rant.

“Did you read that review of the Kasabian album that said it sounds like Happy Mondays? Do they sound like Happy Mondays? No. What idiot wrote that? It’s because people are lazy. Kasabian have made a briliant album for a young ambitious band, each song is like a musical journey, it’s a great record.

“We had pretty good reviews for our album except some of the student press and online stuff said we sound like flaming Coldplay – they hear a piano and say we’re like Keane. Am I like that fey little fat fop out of Keane? Am I hell. Except he’s not fat now is he? He went into rehab for half a lager and lime – that sorted him out.”

Obviously we’re not dealing with your average, market-conscious, modern-day rock ’n’ roller here. Ant’s band The Hours have only sold 40 tickets for their show in Nottingham that night, but he’s not worried about putting on a show and he knows the crowd will be much bigger when they open for Kasabian at Southampton Guildhall on Thursday, July 2.

“I’m mad for a bit of Kasabian right now, but it doesn’t matter whether we play to four people, or 40, or 4,000, or 40,000 – it’s all the same to me. It’s all human beings and it’s all communication. It’s a buzz when I can see the energy coming back from the crowd. It’s a beautiful thing.”

These are not the arrogant fumings of a know-nothing motormouth. Ant is charming, witty, rabidly intelligent and has a firm grasp of the human condition. He’s also got some serious musical pedigree.

As a ten-year-old he was hanging around The Clash for autographs, joined Pulp in 1987 at the age of 16, made a splash in London during the Britpop years, joining Elastica, living with Robbie Williams, working with Supergrass and Cerys Matthews and was musical director on the film Mike Bassett: England Manager. Oh, he was also in the first line-up of his hero Joe Strummer’s Mescaleros, producing their debut album, Rock Art and the X-Ray Spex.

And he brings it all to The Hours’ table – along with a deep understanding of his wild years epitomised by a notorious onstage streak at Glastonbury 1995 when, loaded with what he later recalled as “14 Es, two tabs of LSD, maybe two or three grams of heroin, a lot of cocaine, vodka and a hell of a lot of cider” he threw himself stark naked around the stage.

Ant Genn spent large portions of his adult life as a prodigious consumer of proscribed drugs and was sacked from most of his jobs – including his dream post with Strummer.

“You know, I put a lot of work into being a drug addict. I was very professional and extremely good at it. If I had some heroin in my left inside pocket and some needles and works in the right and a slice of lemon, I could go anywhere. And if I had some charlie or some crack as well I could stay out for a few days.

“If I didn’t stop the next step was living on the street and I’d’ve probably died.

“Then after a few months I got a bit of clarity and there was a big moment – my dad got ill with cancer and I had to decide whether to step up to the plate and be a man or use it as an excuse to carry on using drugs.

“So I’m happy to be alive after what I’ve done to myself over the years. Nobody decides to stop because they think they should stop. They stop because they can’t carry on any more. They hit rock bottom and drugs stop working; they stop doing what they were meant to do, which is to hide the pain.

“There aren’t very many well-balanced drug addicts who were brought up in nice homes. You stop because you have to, that’s all there is to it.”

Eight years clean now, he and his fellow former Mescalero Martin Slattery are The Hours, whose benefactor Damien Hirst produced the skull-based sleeve art for both their albums – 2007’s Narcissus Road and this year’s See the Light – two of the most under-rated British albums of recent years.

They specialise in glittering pop-rock anthems like Ali In the Jungle.

“I had no expectations for being in this band,” he tells me, warming to another topic. “We’re not in a band as it’s a cool thing to do – starting a band is a ridiculous thing to do. This is just how it evolved with me and Martin. If we wanted to make money we’d go and write songs for other people, but that’s not for me, man.

“Money’s not that interesting. It helps you do things and making enough to live and eat and work is a constant struggle for a musician. But if I wanted to be a shopkeeper I’d open my own cornershop; then I can decide what goes on the shelves rather than work for Sainsbury or Wal-Mart. I’ve had enough of working for other people.

“But you know what? I’m comfortable where I am. My dad was a butcher and he used to get up at six in the morning, go to work, come home, fall asleep on the sofa, have his tea, have a wash, then go out and play drums in bands at working men’s clubs seven nights a week and Sunday lunchtimes – and he worked six days a week.

“So I reckon I’ve got it pretty easy, mate.”