Fame is fickle. And no one in recent rock history knows that better than Paul Westerberg. As the singer of the Replacements he was the heart, soul and calloused fingertips of a band obsessed over by some, unknown by others, and richly deserving of the platinum albums, stadium concerts and glossy teenage-bedroom posters they never received.

Formed in '79, the quartet arguably became the best rock band of the 1980s: less pretentious than U2, more blue-collar than even Springsteen. Somehow, when these four drunk teenagers from Minneapolis were in the same garage, theirs was a beautiful musical catastrophe. But even after their breakthrough album (1984's Let It Be) and at their height (1987's Pleased to Meet Me) celebrity only taunted them from the wings. The 'Mats were whiskey-soaked rock and roll folk heroes, never Rock and Roll Hall of Famers.

Then again, maybe they were never meant to be superstars.

The Replacements' cult status was always part of the band's charm, even though it left its members with less than robust retirement accounts (and, recently, drove bassist Tommy Stinson to join the latest incarnation of Guns N' Roses). Westerberg wore his soul on his ratty flannel sleeve, mixing punk riffs with Beatles-worthy melodies and heartfelt lyrics (How do you say "I'm lonely" to an answering machine?) that spawned dozens of famous imitators.

When Westerberg was dubbed the embodiment of rock and roll on the cover of Spin in 1993, it was a little too little and a lot too late. The band played its last show in 1991; four years later original guitarist Bob Stinson would be dead. When he launched his solo career in the 1990s, Westerberg had grown out of his drunk-rock adolescence and become a sober songwriter -- although the move smacked of heresy to his crasser fans, who suggested his music couldn't work without a proper vodka marinade.

Westerberg proved them wrong. He recorded "Dyslexic Heart" for the Singles soundtrack and worked with a succession of name producers on three solo albums (14 Songs, Eventually, Suicaine Gratification). Then Westerberg locked himself in his basement and brought forth Grandpaboy (a goofy, scary, Stonesian alter ego) first on a 1997 EP and later on 2002's Stereo/Mono. Along the way he also worked on the most important collaboration of his life: a son, Johnny, with Laurie Lindeen of the Minneapolis band Zuzu's Petals.

This month Grandpaboy is back with Dead Man Shake, and Westerberg is back, too, with the DVD and soundtrack to his 2002 tour documentary Come Feel Me Tremble. Calling from his home in Minneapolis, Westerberg shared his thoughts on fame, fatherhood, sobriety, the possibility of a Replacements reunion and why rock's current glut of self-styled 'Mats wannabes drove him into therapy.