Paul Weller is hitting the half-century, but he's more interested in looking to the future and throwing a 21st party in honour of his remarkable new album, which is unlike anything he's done before, writes Jim Carroll.

YOU PROBABLY think you have the measure of Paul Weller. That's what happens when someone has been in the public eye for more than 30 years. We certainly know the story so far. The Jam, the Style Council, the wilderness years, Wild Wood, a resurgent solo career, the sweaty embrace of Britpop's young guns and the continued reign of the Modfather as the standard bearer for a certain type of sound.

But it's time to write another chapter. The reason? 22 Dreams, the ninth album released under Weller's own name and the 21st of a lengthy, enthralling career.

You may think that you've heard and seen everything Weller can do ­- the sometimes peerless rock-soul of his solo struts ­- but pull up a pew, strike a match and put on the new album. Time and time again on this ambitious, expansive, unexpected set of songs, Weller heads for the faraway hills like a man on a mission to prove something to both the faithful and unfaithful.

Sure, there's the trademark power and glory thumping away in the shape of Echoes Around the Sunand Push it Along, but these nestle alongside Weller and his band throwing Kraut-rock, free-jazz, electronica and sheer experimental shapes around with gay abandon. There are some minor missteps (the spoken-word tune, for one), but for the most part, it really is time to check your head and your preconceptions about the soundtrack to Weller's world.

He likes that. He likes the idea of messing with what people expect from him. "I'm constantly trying to find new challenges and, I got to tell you mate, it gets tougher and tougher as the years go by. But you have to keep challenging yourself or you just go stale."

There have been times, he admits, when he didn't chase that particular goal. "Well, yeah, maybe I've rewritten the same song a few times. That's inevitable in some ways. You have your comfort zone and if you can get away with it, there are times when you'll try to stick to it."

For 22 Dreams, Weller had an actual physical comfort zone to work within - a studio in an old converted barn in Ripley, a village five miles from his childhood home of Woking. He says it's a lovely, peaceful spot, a place to go when you want to escape from the world and get stuff done.

When Weller began sessions for the new album, something stirred in his mind. Weller's last few records were good ­- Studio 150'scovers provided a good history lesson in what he liked, and As Is Nowhad a punchy momentum to it - but Weller knew he could do better.

Perhaps he also had a few things to say to those who saw him merely as Britain's favourite trad rocker; there's a sense throughout 22 Dreamsof the singer muttering a subtle "fuck you" to some people.

"Subtle?" Weller snorts. "Nah, nah, I don't think I can do subtle, man. I suppose you could say it's defiant. We pushed some limits. I'm not saying it was groundbreaking; all those styles have been done before. But it was adventurous for me as a musician to go to places like 111, where I've not been before. And it was fun."

He wasn't alone in the studio: Steve Craddock, Simon Dine and Charles Rees were there for the duration. Weller calls them his "trusted team".

"It was a democratic process - everyone was pitching ideas in. We tried everything, because you can tell pretty much straight away if the idea is working or not.

"Indulgent? Yeah, it was a bit, I suppose. I mean, we were making it for ourselves. We weren't thinking about how it might go down with this market or if that audience would like it. Having the full run of the studio and having no deadlines or pressure really helped. It's only when you finish it up and realise that you have to give the songs to other people that you begin to go 'fuck, I wonder what they will think of this'."

As the recording sessions progressed, the seasons came and went beyond the studio door. Weller talks about thunderstorms and bright blue skies, and it's clear that some of those pastoral scenes influenced 22 Dreamsas the team worked away. Months passed, the world kept turning, and the four musicians (plus such occasional visitors as Robert Wyatt, Graham Coxon, John McCusker and Noel Gallagher) kept recording. By the time they were finished, 22 Dreamswas a double album.

"I knew we'd a lot of songs, I just hadn't realised we had that many. It just happened. I know everyone says that, but it's the truth, mate. The more we recorded and the more tunes we finished, the more we just wanted to keep going and see what else we could do. I mean, you've everything on that album you'd possibly want from me."

He's hoping his audience will agree. In Weller's case, the connection between artist and audience is something which really has stood the test of time.

But don't take that to mean Weller is going to do what they expect from him. "A lot of them have grown up with me and have been along for the entire career, and that's a beautiful thing. Naturally, you don't want to alienate people; that's not what this is about. But you have to do your thing without really thinking of or referring to the fans. I hope that people would come with us, you know, that they'd be prepared to come along on this little journey."

Yet even that audience is changing.

"I've noticed recently, especially on the last UK tour, that we're getting loads of young kids coming along to the shows. It's great to see that generational span, from 16- and 17-year-olds who've bunked in, right through to old fuckers like me, when you look out from the stage. That keeps it all contemporary and fresh and doesn't turn it into some kind of nostalgic roadshow."

As much as he despises it, nostalgia is very much in the ether around Weller at the moment. He turned 50 recently, and every one of the many interviews, features and profiles which have run around the release of the new album have mentioned this milestone. The man himself just wishes people would forget about it. Send him a card, buy him a beer, but leave it be.

"I'm fed up and bored with this whole turning 50 thing. On the one hand, it's okay because people are also writing about 22 Dreamsand mentioning the new stuff. But it's really fucking stupid and boring because it gives some people a chance to keep asking me after 20 years if I'm going to reform The Jam. It's quite apparent by now that that is never going to happen, yet people keep asking me about it as if I might change my mind."

Well, would you consider reforming The Style Council? Weller bursts out laughing. "You're the first person to ever ask me that one, mate." He turns serious as he notes that The Style Council were an important band for many thousands of people.

"It's funny how the press in England always go on about The Jam and act like The Style Council never happened. It's not the same with the fans, though. The Style Council were a big fucking deal for a couple of years, with loads of top-10 records and number ones when those things actually meant something. It wasn't like nobody liked it - we were massive. I still meet people of a certain age who got into The Style Council before they got into The Jam."

Yet Weller has no intention of reliving those glories either. He's looking ahead, revved up about the new album, the new band and the shows to come this summer.

"You always have to move on in life. I suppose there's a subconscious thing at the moment about doing lots of stuff, what with turning 50 and all. You do think 'fuck, how much time do I have?' Some people might think at this age that your best days are behind you, but I'd like to show there is still something more to come."

Paul Weller plays live at the Marquee in Cork on July 6th. 22 Dreams is out now on Island.

See www.paulweller.com, www.myspace.com/paulweller, www.youtube.com/paulwellertv