It’s 7AM and, in decidedly un-rock ‘n’ roll fashion, Shirley Manson’s LA day is just starting rather than ending following a madzer one in The Viper Room or wherever else is hip these days.

“The Viper Room was last century, wasn’t it?” the Garbage singer deadpans in a voice that, despite a decade spent in Californian exile, still screams “Edinburgh!”

“The early mornings are offset by quite a few impressively late nights – I’m still a bit of a maniac in that respect – but I gave up trying to be hip ages ago,” she resumes. “When I first moved to Los Angeles I absolutely loathed it. After a while, though, you work out how, amongst all the craziness, to lead a normal life. Y’know, get up, make coffee, fanny around, take the dog for a walk.”

Asked what sort of a pooch she has, Shirley laughs and says: “This is so Californian… we had a genetic test done on her because we didn’t know, and it came back ‘Whippet and Boston Terrier’. She doesn’t look like either of those, though, but she is very, very cute!

“Of all the places to be in at the moment in America, California is probably the best because they really do despise Trump here – and he despises them back. It’s a state of immigrants; has one of the seven largest economies in the world; believes strongly in the environment and other progressive causes; and functions really, really well.

“I was delighted the other day when West Hollywood City Council voted to permantly remove Trump’s Walk of Fame star. Politically it’ll have zero effect, but privately you know he’ll be really pissed off. Just living in California, which I love now, feels like an act of political resistance at times.”

Manson is looking forward to getting a break from the Trump freak show when Garbage head to Europe for a lengthy tour that kicks off (proper order!) at Electric Picnic. To celebrate its 20th birthday, they’ll be playing their classic sophomore album, Version 2.0, in its entirety along with a smattering of the B-sides that accompanied its ‘I Think I’m Paranoid’, ‘Push It’, ‘When I Grow Up’ and ‘The Trick Is To Keep Breathing’ chartbusters.

“Revisiting it like this has brought back a million memories,” Shirley reflects. “We made Version 2.0 over the course of a year and then toured it for almost another two years, which was a significant chunk of all of our lives. Adventures were had; mistakes made; and lessons learned. Overall, we’ve been struck by how well the album has stood up to time. A lot of the songs still sound pretty contemporary. Revisiting the B-sides has been interesting because some of them were literally written in an afternoon and then forgotten about until now. One of them, ‘Lick The Pavement’, is this un-thought out, un-tampered with burst of energy. There’s also a version of Big Star’s ‘Thirteen’, which Alex Chilton said was his favourite cover of any of his songs.”

That’s quite the musical pat on the head…

“It’s not a pat on the head,” she corrects, “it’s a fucking medal with a garland of flowers beneath it. I mean, Big Star… it doesn’t get any cooler than that!”

Speaking to Shirley shortly after Version 2.0’s 1998 release, she had no idea whether Garbage would prove to be five-year wonders or go on to become one of the defining bands of their generation. What does she now consider to be the secret of their longevity and success?

“That’s a complicated question, especially at this hour of the morning! I think our personalities are very simpatico and our values shared. Business-wise we’re all equal partners, so nobody feels like they’re getting fucked over. I wouldn’t be in Garbage if there were any hint of, ‘You’re only the singer.’ There’s plenty of strife, but at the end of the day we all compliment each other. What one of us isn’t good at, another is. The biggest thing we have between us is trust. If we’re all together we’ll run things through the dressing-room, but if people are on holiday or working on other projects it doesn’t really matter who makes the decision in the end.”

My live introduction to Garbage was when they opened for U2 at the first post-9/11 gig to be staged in Madison Square Garden. New York was hurting and, using the redemptive powers of rock ‘n’ roll, Bono, Edge, Adam and Larry eased the pain. Music journo wankspeak I know, but there really was magic in the Manhattan air that night.

“I’m getting goose-bumps thinking about it,” she nods. “The whole tour was extraordinary but that night was like going to church and watching everybody grieve. It was so powerful and galvanising against the terror in the world. You can say what you like about U2 – because of the size of the band people don’t always acknowledge the artistry – but they did more on that stage and on that tour for people than any government did.” Before hooking up Stateside with Butch, Duke and the rest of the Garbage boys, Shirley was a member of Goodbye Mr McKenzie, the artsy Scottish combo whose ranks included future Nirvana guitar tech and stand-in Big John Duncan.

“I was in Goodbye Mr McKenzie for 10 years and it was a struggle – a glorious struggle, which I’m immensely proud of, but it was tough surviving on pennies, really. Garbage was different in that the moment we arrived in the UK, the gigs sold-out and people were going mental. I was like, ‘This is different, this is insane’. It felt like a massive success from almost day one.”

Wanting to grab themselves a slice of the electro rock action, a rival to Garbage’s Mushroom label, RCA America lavished a small fortune on Junkster, a female-fronted Dublin band with a similar name and an identical sonic palette.

“The music industry in the ‘90s was this hot air balloon that got so big and bloated it exploded,” Shirley notes. “Ridiculous amounts of money were being spent on any band that sounded remotely like another band that was selling really well. It was the height of record company corporate greed and absolutely their own fault that it blew up in their faces.”

Shirley ruffled industry feathers aplenty in 2016 when she ventured that, “Streaming is a fucking racket and a crime.” Has anything happened in the interim to soften her stance?

“No, it hasn’t changed at all,” she rues. “It’s an exploitative industry that feeds off talent. I read today in Billboard that only 12% of the $48 billion made last year by the music industry went to artists – and most of that 12% was from touring. It’s utterly obscene.”

On the plus side, Shirley is getting to live out her childhood fantasies on a daily basis.

“Yeah, I love it,” she acknowledges. “Being in a band is what I was meant to do in life and I’m good at it. It takes its toll, though, which is why as I’ve gotten older I’ve developed so much more respect for my peers. They might do things differently to me but their gall and guts to get up and do their thing in public is to be applauded.”

Hoping to encourage the next generation of Shirley Mansons, the singer has become an ambassador for Girls Rock London who’ve nurtured such hot to trot young acts as Judi Hench, Concrete Bones and Charmpit.

“It’s an initiative to encourage women, trans and non-binary people from all socioeconomic backgrounds to make and become involved in music,” she explains. “Only 5% of the people working in studios are women. I imagine the statistic for live sound and lighting engineers is similar. We’re beginning to see a change in terms of there being more representation and opportunities, but it’s not happening fast enough.”

Having lived in California since the noughties and had a recurring role in the big budget Warner Bros. TV series, Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles, was Shirley aware of the allegations being made against Harvey Weinstein before they went public?

“I don’t move in those A-List Hollywood circles, so how the fuck would I know what goes on? What I do know is that assault and violence against women in our society continues across the board. I don’t know one single woman who hasn’t had an unpleasant encounter with a man. Not one. Everybody has a story. And that to me speaks of some bizarre misogyny occurring in our society. Governments should be falling over themselves trying to figure out why this is happening. It’s not good for women and it’s not good for men either. This is a male issue. There’s something going on amongst men, which they need to address.”

As a rock ‘n’ roll veteran of 34 years standing, what are the “Pinch me, I’m dreaming!” moments that Shirley Manson wouldn’t swap for anything? “Performing at the opening of Scotland’s first parliament for three hundred years,” she shoots back. “It was an unbelievably proud moment for myself and my family. Garbage being played on the radio for the first time was a spine-tingling moment. I was in a car with Butch driving to Chicago from Madison, Wisconsin, which was our base for a long time when ‘Vow’ came on. It was beautiful and wild and amazing. I also wouldn’t trade how things are right now with the band. Twenty-five years in and we’re still laughing and enjoying our creative endeavours together.”