Your 2025 album, Wild Concerto, stars birds and animals as soloists; what animal do you think best represents you, and why?

The wolves of the Arctic Circle! Actually, no, no, no – the hyenas of the Skeleton Coast. Hyenas are very cool animals: they’re butt ugly, but they have extremely complex society, they’re very complex vocally, and they’re very strange animals. I don’t know whether I identify with them personally or not. OK, fuck that: let’s go back to the wolf, much more heroic.

You’ve been touring your in-conversation show **** – what is the most common question you get from audiences?

Someone always asks me about Spyro [1998 platformer Spyro The Dragon]. It’s a hugely successful game; they re-did it 20 years after they released it and it was a hit all over again. And it has a huge following related to the music specifically. Many people don’t know that I did the music and they’re astonished to find out that the composer of Spyro also used to play in a band. There’s not any particularly great anecdote to tell about it, other than I worked like a son of a bitch – I could do a lecture about how having to do a great quantity of music leads to great quality of music. Under the gun, you come up with your best stuff.

What’s the most chaotic thing that happened to the Police on stage?

Well there’s a couple [laughs]. One was in front of 80,000 people in Turin, during the reunion tour. I took the tempo up a little high during Andy’s solo on When The World Is Running Down. That happens frequently – Andy [Summers, guitarist] is a fucking great soloist, and he gets me a little excited.

So the tempo goes up a little bit and, when Sting comes back to his vocals, he’s having to jabber, and he hates that shit, and I know he’s going to be pissed off, and he is, and he starts screaming at me in front of the audience and he’s waving his arm to show me where the backbeat goes. And the thought going through my head – well, the thought didn’t go through my head until later – was: “I must kill you now.” I’m thinking, Stingo, you’ve known me for 50 years and you think that’s how to calm me down? It didn’t. But it was one of the best shows we ever played – as we’re screaming at each other in front of 80,000 Italians. It burned down Turin.

The Police in Amsterdam, 1979. From left, Stewart Copeland, Sting and Andy Summers. Photograph: Gijsbert Hanekroot/Redferns

What’s been your most cringe-worthy run-in with a celebrity?

I once Bogarted a Beatle. It was at the after party for the Foo Fighters concert at Wembley Stadium. Somebody says, “Oh, I smell marijuana”, and so I wander over in that general direction just as somebody’s handing a joint. So I said, “OK, sure” – just to be polite – I took the joint, and I looked over and I realised that the intended recipient of the joint was none other than Paul McCartney. And I had just interrupted the passage of this chalice to the great one! I had interloped in this moment.

I went to bed that night not quite sure whether I was mortally embarrassed or if that was kind of a cool brag.

Who’s the nicest rock star?

Paul McCartney – he sets the standard. He not only remembers your name and talks to you like a regular guy, but he remembers your wife’s name – and, you know, he absolutely is a regular guy in spite of being a Beatle.

And the nastiest?

Us artists never see the bad side of our peers. Let’s talk about Tommy Lee, the drummer: he’s the sweetest guy ever, the most cheerful guy, what a fun hang. Turns out that he’s got a [bad] reputation … but of course, I never see that.

The most nightmarish artists you could mention are all sweet as puppies amongst each other.

Stewart Copeland is touring Have I Said Too Much? The Police, Hollywood, And Other Adventures. Photograph: Birds Robe

**Your parents were both involved in espionage – your dad for the CIA and your mum for British intelligence; **do you think they passed off any spy-craft to you and your siblings?

Salesmanship. And applied amorality.

Please elaborate.

I’m going to leave it there. Readers can work that out.

You made a podcast about your quest to find out more about your dad – what was the most shocking thing you discovered?

I guess the most shocking part was that he was not actually working for Uncle Sam during my lifetime. He was working for the oil companies – doing the same job, you know, propping up dictators and keeping the status quo.

And you were shocked because …

That’s not quite as sexy [as being a spy], you know? What they all did, actually, was that they would go in and out of government service; in service to get their credentials, to get their connections, and then they go out and work for [an oil company] and make some actual money.

We were living in Beirut [when I was growing up] and my father’s best friend, Kim Philby, was a spy, and we were parallel families with matching kids, and so we knew each other really well. [Kim Philby’s son] Harry was my friend – and his daddy went missing one day and turned out to be a double agent!

What’s the most overrated album, and why?

Anything by David Bowie. I recognise the great mark that Bowie left on the world. He was innovative in 10 different ways, an inspiration for a generation. His credentials as one of the most important artists of our time cannot be questioned. However, it didn’t work for me. I never wanted to look like that, I never wanted to sound like that, I didn’t get it. I was into Jimi Hendrix.

Who is the most underrated drummer?

Simon Kirke, who played with Free and Bad Company. He had a simplicity. He is a great example of the fact that great drummers are born, not made. He didn’t have flash metronics, but he had a groove that you just couldn’t argue with. And Ringo Starr and Charlie Watts also, but they are recognised. Simon Kirke ought to be up there with those guys.

Stewart Copeland’s Have I Said Too Much? The Police, Hollywood, And Other Adventures is touring Australia and New Zealand in January.