Oasis: A Hooligan History

When Oasis broke up last year due to the ongoing irreconcilable differences between the brothers Gallagher, few were shocked. If you are a fan of Oasis, it was even less of a surprise. Noel--the main songwriter and guitarist--along with sibling (and lead singer), Liam, have been threatening to perform fratricide on each other for at least the 15 years that Oasis have been a band. I think it's fair to say, that not since the Kink's and the brothers' Davies has their been so many reports of rock star siblings taking swipes at each other.

So, Noel embarks on a solo career and Liam has decided to continue on with the remaining members of Oasis (whoever those guys are) under the new name, Beady Eye (oh, dear).

However, they do so after leaving us a decade and a half of hooliganism and deathless singles. The two brothers have been thrown out of so many English bars that they probably had to open their own just to get served a pint. These guys were not the well-mannered, introverted English citizens that we are so used to seeing jump over the pond. No, these were foul-mouthed, drunken, stammering, brawling thugs whose lineage dated back to Ireland (probably explains a few things). Boy, were they a lot of fun.

So in recognition of these two nutters and the fabulous 2 disc best of, Time Flies, that came out last week, I give you my album by album break down of the recording history of the legendary Brit band, Oasis. Here we go:

*All reviews based on the Rolling Stone 5 star system.

Definitely Maybe (1994) *****:

Extraordinary. As if busting out of the womb fully formed, this debut disc wastes no time announcing their presence with authority.

The first cut, Rock 'N' Roll Star, is not presented as a hope or a desire, but as a statement of fact. Rollicking, snotty, and with an air of entitlement, Star presents us with the classic Oasis sound. Beatlesque harmonies, roaring guitars, and Liam's nasally whine stretching vowels to degrees not heretofore known by man, this album dropped like an England sized anvil on the States.

I still remember sitting up watching 120 Minutes on MTV when their first single, Supersonic burst through the screen. The lyrics were nonsense (I know a girl called Elsa/She's into alka seltzer), the singer's voice was abrasive, and the guitars were big and kinda dumb. It was...glorious. Coming out of the "grunge" era--where no one wanted to be a rock star (see Cobain, Vedder, etc.)--this was the clear antithesis to the self-serious, naval gazing, poorly dressed rock 'n' roll star that was all the rage at the time. Don't get me wrong, I like Nirvana and Pearl Jam, I just wouldn't often call it "fun." This however, was fun. But not just.

While a song like Shakermaker would cheekily rob its sound from the "I'd like to buy the world a coke" commercial and then subvert it into submission, the album's skyscraping hit single, Live Forever, showed they had a sensitive and deeply melodic side. This was classic songwriting of the first order. Sure, they borrowed liberally from the Beatles (even quoting from their lyrics in multiple songs), but the edge and nastiness, along with a working class viewpoint made them something altogether unique.

Early on in their tour for Definitely Maybe, I saw Oasis in Chicago at the Metro. After the show, I turned to my friend and said "that's the future of rock and roll." It wouldn't be long before they proved me right, if only for a little while.

(What's The Story) Morning Glory (1995)*****:

A stone cold masterpiece. Pretty much everything you ever liked about rock and roll loaded into one disc. From defiant glam rockin' opener Hello to the gorgeous, epic 7 and a half minute closer Champagne Supernova, Morning Glory has nary a mis-step.

They broke through to pop radio with the insta-classic, shuffling ballad, Wonderwall, that wore their Beatles influence on their collective sleeves while still managing to sound like it could have come from nowhere else. As great as that song is, it's not even the best on the record. Hell, the best track isn't even sung by Liam, but rather by brother Noel.

I'm talking about the massively chorused (yeah, I don't even know if that's a word) Don't Look Back In Anger. I can imagine every half schlossed, degenerate, alcoholic pub dweller in England throwing their arms around each other when Noel finishes that first verse and hits the "And soooooo Sally can't waaaaaiiittt...." line. I bet it turns every bar into a stadium at a Manchester United football match, or at least a Rickey Hatton fight. Break out the vuvuzelas and the chanting, because it's ON.

Morning Glory turned Oasis into the biggest band in the world for about two to three years. And even though troubled times were on the way, the one-two punch of their debut and sophomore releases bested any two Beatles albums ever. Yes, you heard that right. If only for a moment, Oasis was bigger and better than The Beatles. Go ahead and put it on my tombstone, I won't mind at all.

Be Here Now (1997)****:

Overstuffed, pretentious, and uneven, here's where the quality level began to slip. The band took 3 years between albums and the extra time led to diminished results. Some songs, like All Around The World were too derivative of The Beatles. It's not that it's a bad tune, it just sounds like it was the last song to be cut from Sergeant Pepper. Which as I said, isn't so much a bad thing, as it is not a good enough one. As well, Don't Go Away sounds like a rewrite of Don't Look Back In Anger, and is there any reason why the opening stomper D'You Know What I Mean? needs to stretch out to nearly 8 minutes in length? Not that I can see.

So why in the world am I giving it 4 stars? Well, because it still sounds great. And because the melodies get stuck in your head like a piece of chewing gum on a shih tzu. Still, there were reasons to be worried, and those reasons came to fruition on their very next proper record.

The Masterplan (1998)****

A stellar collection of b-sides released to sate the appetite of their rabid fan base between proper records. At the time, Oasis were so prolific that even a full disc of non-album tracks left killer cuts out (Whatever and Step Out in particular). That's no knock on this collection of odds and sods though. Every cut here is a keeper. Aquiesce, Fade Away, and Stay Young are superior to many of the rockers on Be Here Now, and Talk Tonight and the title track remind you of what a lovely solo album big brother Noel might be capable of.

In short, for an album that's not really an album, it's one helluva an album.

Standing On The Shoulder Of Giants (2000)**:

Ouch. It all starts out well enough with the barnstorming instrumental, Fuckin' In The Bushes, and the next two cuts (first single) Go Let It Out and Who Feels Love, but swiftly deteriorates after that. Put Yer Money Where Your Mouth Is is about as original as it's title. And the first Liam scribed tune, Little James, is far too slight to hang even 4 minutes and 15 seconds on. And, well, why go on? It's simply too depressing.

Suffice it to say that the years of excessive drug use and infighting had resulted in an album that stopped their career momentum cold. Sure, they would make more good records, and sell out stadiums all over the world, but the zeitgeist period of Oasis was over. And Standing On The Shoulder Of Giants is the culprit. It really says something about this record that the b-side collection that preceded it is so far and away superior.

And another thing, what the hell is with the album title? Can you really stand on the shoulder of giants? There's some kind of singular/plural issue going on here that annoys me almost as much as the music contained within. Let's move on...

Familiar To Millions (2001)*****:

Quite simply, one of the greatest live albums ever. And yes, I do mean ever. Recorded over multiple dates at Wembley Stadium, this record almost washes out the bad taste brought on by Shoulder. Almost.

Essentially, a live greatest hits album, the band cherry picks the best stuff from each album along with some choice b-sides (Step Out, Acquiesce) and a surprisingly terrific Oasisified cover Of Neil Young's, Hey Hey, My My to create an essential tour document. Even the tracks from Shoulder sound great. Whatever issues that may have been stewing and brewing in the recording studio are nowhere in evidence here. Smashing.

Heathen Chemistry (2002)***1/2:

A partial return to form. Sure, the best tracks (Stop Crying Your Heart Out, Little By Little, and The Hindu Times) might remind you of better songs by the band, but if this is the 'B' list, well it's a pretty good list. The rockers have real snarl, the ballads have epic sweep, and Songbird might just might be the prettiest song they ever recorded.

There's some filler here, but after Shoulder, Heathen proved that the lads weren't dead just yet.

Don't Believe The Truth (2005)****1/2:

Now we're cookin' with gas! After years of being disparaged as a loud, brutish, Beatles knock off, the boys show they can expand their sound to incorporate other influences. One can pick up traces of The Kinks, The Stones, mod era Who, and even a little Bob Dylan on this near complete return to form. Supposedly, the band had ditched the hard drugs and cut back on the sauce before hitting the studio, and the clarity shows.

The stomping first single, Lyla was their best lead off single in years. Better still are Love Like A Bomb, Mucky Fingers, The Importance Of Being Idle, and the go-jus closer Let There Be Love, which finds the brothers trading vocals over one of their finest melodies.

There is a patience on this album that even their best records lacked. The arrogance is replaced (well not entirely) by a renewed sense of confidence and dare I say it? Peace. Whatever the case, no one had a right to expect this great of a record from these guys, but here it is. Do indeed Believe The Truth.

Dig Out Your Soul (2008)****:

Strong follow up to reputation fixer, Don't Believe The Truth. Dig embraces the psychedelic undercurrents they occasionally hinted at on previous records (The Hindu Times, All Around The World) more fully. However, it does so in a heavier, thicker way that results in a barely contained chaos.

While Dig may not be as immediately accessible as it's predecessor, it rewards repeated listens in a fashion that Truth may not have.

Oasis has always known how to start an album. The opening cut from any Oasis record can be referred to as their "We mean business" track. Typically fiery and anthemic, the band has always known how to jump off. While Dig's Bag It Up is certainly no exception, it's grinding blues underbelly is something new(ish) for the band.

First single, The Shock Of Lightning is positively propulsive. Oasis has seldom struggled for a hot guitar riff, and the barrelling, incendiary, Shock contains one of their best. The sound of a more mature Liam Gallagher being pushed by Noel's roaring axe in an effort to be heard is exhilarating. By the end of the song, it's clear that little brother is up to the challenge.

As well, Dig finds Liam coming into his own as a songwriter. His ballad I'm Outta Time would have been a hit in a perfect world (or at least 1995). For the first time, one of Liam's songs is among the best on the album. It's no surprise that Time makes it onto the new best of cd. It certainly belongs.

And then, the break up.

It's fair to say, that it would have been fascinating to see what the band would have came up with next. The line up behind the Gallaghers had stabilized. They were not only playing with a true sense of purpose, but also with a new found curiosity that brought unusual shades to their sound and words. Most bands dry up and start repeating themselves after 15 years together. However, Oasis sounded like they were just getting (re)started.

Maybe this split will result in twice as many good records. I've always thought that Noel had a great, swoony, ballad heavy record in him. And maybe Liam and the leftovers can build upon Liam's burgeoning strengths as a songwriter. Can the younger sib' fill a whole album without Noel? I guess we'll see.

One thing's for certain though, it sure as hell won't be the same. These guys were rock stars and artists. Prone to dust ups, fisticuffs, and hilariously nasty (although often unintelligible) over the top quotes.* But the biggest reason to miss Oasis is the most simple. Songs. They were chock full of great ones. There are 26 songs on their new best of, Time Flies. Everyone is a keeper. As great as the compilation is though, it is still woefully incomplete. Not many bands could fill a 2 disc best of and leave you wanting more. Not many at all.

Sumo-Pop
June 29, 2010

*My personal favorite was when Noel was asked about his feud with the lead singer of Blur, Damon Albarn--"I hope he gets AIDS and dies" he replied. I know that's terrible, but it makes me laugh every time I think about it. It's just so bluntly ridiculous. And yes, I do feel bad about it.