Earlier this week, Oasis announced a reunion after a 15-year hiatus, one punctuated by the constant squabbling and squibbing and squawking of its central brother-figures, Noel and Liam Gallagher.
Their exploits are legendary, but is there music worth all the hype and aggravation? Today, we look back on the band's entire discography, an often messy and inconsistent oeuvre that also features some of the best fucking rock music ever.
Everyone knows "Wonderwall," sure, but dig a little deeper and you'll find nuance (some), romance (some), and bravado (all of it). Noel knew how to rip off the best of the Beatles, Slade and even Coca-Cola, but don't let that fool ya: he did it with style, and he didn't really seem to care. Plus, singing about cigarettes and alcohol over a T-Rex riff is much more effective than whatever banging a gong is supposed to be.
"Writing songs is hard. Talking shit is easy." For us music journalists, Noel's spot-on assertion perfectly summarizes what we do in a single, venomous sentiment. Well, too bad: just like his many victims, he's not above scrutiny or ridicule, and neither is his band. But don't worry, there's plenty of praise here, so let's embrace it and get on with the list — wanker.
8. Heathen Chemistry (2002)
After Standing on the Shoulder of Giants, Noel was tapped out; Heathen Chemistry was where he started loosening his iron grip on the songwriting duties. Newly minted members Andy Bell and Gem Archer contributed one track each, while brother Liam added three credits to his name, including his best self-penned Oasis track, "Songbird," a sentimental and surprisingly pretty ditty about a bird (metaphor notwithstanding). A few songs notwithstanding, this album stinks to high (ha!) heaven. Gone is the bravura, the daydreamed ambitions, the stadium anthems (though lord knows Noel was really trying with "Stop Crying Your Heart Out"), all replaced by lifeless, syrupy love songs, self-cannibalization, and "The Hindu Times." Tragic, this one. Liam has gone on record to say that this is the worst Oasis album. You're not wrong, mate. It even has a hidden track! Unforgivable and just so bland. See yourself out, love, you're not wanted here.
Standout Track: The Noel-sung "Little by Little" might be saccharine, but it's got a great chorus, and it's by far the most redeemable song on this tired collection of meh.
7. Standing on the Shoulder of Giants (2000)
Released after the would-be disaster of Be Here Now, the band attempted to recoup its critical (if not commercial) losses by dropping some of the (street) drugs and acting more sensibly in the studio. And it shows: the production isn't as chaotic or cacophonous as its predecessor (you can actually hear stuff), but it also lacks the swagger and frenzy of their earlier works. Played primarily by Noel, the band's evolving sound started to feature progressive and electronic elements (the old Noel would have scoffed at these lofty, often pretentious genres), but the whole thing sounds bored, unmotivated, and just plain exhausted. While Noel himself would later disown the album, it's not all terrible: "Fuckin' in the Bushes" is monumental (as was its perfect use in Snatch); "Gas Panic!" is rightfully raw; "Go Let It Out" is still a live fan favourite. Some of the more unfocused and derivative experiments aren't as successful ("Who Feels Love?"? I'd say no one), but Liam finally contributed a track for the first time ("Little James"), and that's worth something — kinda.
Standout Track: "Fuckin' in the Bushes" is raucous and raunchy, even if it's just an instrumental. Its central riff is slithery and contemptuous, like a bad morning after an even worse night out. It's short and bitter and has the frantic energy of a much younger, hungrier and more fucked up band, but mind your Ps and Qs, son: this is unmistakably Oasis.
6. Don't Believe the Truth (2005)
A critical comeback of sorts, Don't Believe the Truth features contributions from all of the band members (including Andy Bell and Gem Archer), as well as some of their biggest hits in years. Opening the album with a track penned by Bell shows how much Noel had acquiesced to sharing writing duties, but his songs still stand above the rest: "Part of the Queue" has a decidedly Stranglers vibe (that's a good thing), while the jubilant, poppy "Lyla" is wonderfully complemented by the melancholic jangle of "The Importance of Being Idle." Retrospective reviews and lists have been much kinder to this album than some of Oasis's other, supposedly less-than releases, but those are wrong: once again, the non-Gallagher contributions are the weakest of the bunch, and Gem Archer can't write a good song to save his life. Liam's solo contributions are pedestrian at best, even if "Guess God Thinks I'm Abel" is probably the most honest thing he's ever written. Which begs the question: why does an album have to be 40-plus minutes long? Overall, it's not offensive, nor is it particularly memorable; it's just dull, and for an Oasis album, that's simply unforgivable.
Standout Track: "Mucky Fingers," which features Noel on lead vocals, is a diatribe against complacency and has a decidedly Lou Reedian stomp to it, all pounding, minimalist drums, bleating harmonica and fuzzy chords.
5. Be Here Now (1997)
The audacity. The sheer, uncontrollable, irreconcilable audacity of this album. This is excess personified, the coke sweats dripping through every overdriven, maxed out note. It's pure madness, a total lack of control without any rhyme or reason. Too much money, too much blow and too many guitar tracks. Awash in endless feedback (or maybe that's just the amps talking), it sounds like driving through a tunnel with the top down and the radio exploding. There are some pretty great songs on it ("Don't Go Away," "D'You Know What I Mean?" and half of "All Around the World"), but even time hasn't been kind to it, with its recent "polished" reissue receiving lacklustre retrospective reviews. It's an album we all desperately want to love, but it's the epitome of overindulgence, and the best I can do is "I like it." Most of the songs could have been chopped in half or more, and sometimes, you just need to be told no. Plus, getting Johnny Depp to play slide guitar on the excruciating "Fade In-Out" has to be one of the least rock n' roll things ever.
Best Track: "Don't Go Away" is schmaltzy, but it's also sincere in a way that the rest of the bloated album isn't. Granted, there's nothing wrong with noise — but there has to be some balance, and "Don't Go Away" offers that much-needed respite from the hangover you'll undoubtedly develop while listening to the rest of this 71 minute semi-anti-masterpiece.
4. Dig Out Your Soul (2008)
By the time Dig Out Your Soul came out, no one really cared anymore, and 10 months later, Noel quit the band "for good." But give it some time and you'll find some surprising, under-sung material on here. Sure, the album could have done with a bit of editing: Noel doesn't need to sing this much; both songs written by non-Gallaghers are absolutely awful, particularly the derivative Eastern psychedelia of Archer's "To Be Where There's Life"; "(Get Off Your) High Horse Lady" is a total slog.
Nevertheless, there's also a lot of good to be found here: "The Shock of the Lightning" is classic Oasis without ripping off any of their old tracks, while songs like the druggy "The Turning," Liam's tender "I'm Outta Time" and sinister opener "Bag It Up" are pretty damn great. While the songs on Dig Out Your Soul are not as immediate or as intense as some of the more frenzied material, there is an unmistakable excitement running through this album. It's not as meandering as Be Here Now, nor as experimental as Giants; instead, it's a surprisingly consistent album, bright, loud, and, dare it be said, mature. Let the reappraisals begin!
Standout Track: A Liam song? The best one? Say it ain't so! But the off-kilter drums, crunchy guitars, and sardonic lyrics (there's that sneer, baby!) on "Ain't Got Nothin'" make this a late-period essential that Noel wishes he'd written. At two minutes and 14 seconds, it's practically punk. It isn't, but you know what I mean.
3. The Masterplan (1998)
It's a compilation, but this definitely isn't a greatest hits collection or anything. On the contrary, these are the songs Noel thought weren't good enough to be on any of Oasis's official full-lengths. "The Masterplan" and "Acquiesce" and "Half the World Away" and "Fade Away" and "Rockin' Chair" were B-sides! He was definitely wrong, but that sort of unabashed self-confidence, that fuck-off attitude, is exactly why the world still loves Oasis. Obviously, not every B-side is a stunner, so it loses some points for inconsistency, with its most egregious inclusion being a cover of "I Am the Walrus."
On paper, this should be a subpar album, a collection of castoffs, but instead, it confirms Noel's untouchable songwriting prowess in the '90s. When you consider that these songs were relegated to a compilation that received some pretty scathing reviews upon release, it's even more impressive. Like Noel, those reviews were wrong, and this is a classic.
Standout Track: The symphonic mini-epic "The Masterplan." From the plaintive acoustic strumming to the magnificent orchestral backing, it's a confident, affirming and overall tremendous song — one of their best, bolstered by Noel's towering, earnest vocal and one of his most affecting choruses. Even when they were the biggest band in the world, Noel knew how to write vulnerable ("All we know is that we don't know / How it's gonna be"). Here, you believe him. Now give him a hug!
2. (What's the Story) Morning Glory (1995)
It's great, even better than great, but the expectations that came along with this album were insurmountable, even for Noel Gallagher. Try as he might, he could only craft an almost flawless record: "Hello" and "Morning Glory" are such perfect examples of sneering rock posturing that it's hard to deny them (even though the former samples Gary Glitter), while "Don't Look Back in Anger" is the best song he ever wrote. People obviously fall in love with and to "Wonderwall" every day, and "Cast No Shadow" is fragile and truly stunning, but on the flipside, "She's Electric" sounds more like a Blur song (in this case, not a compliment) and "Roll with It" is a plodding, midtempo annoyance. So close, lads. Liam recorded the awe-inspiring lead vocal on "Champagne Supernova" in one take while footy was on? Jesus Christ!
Standout Track: With its rousing, melancholic chorus, "Don't Look Back in Anger" is undisputedly the album's (and the band's) crowning achievement. Infused with honesty, a heartbreaking lack of nostalgia, and some lines, both musical and lyrical, borrowed from a certain John, the song is tailor-made for stadiums, and it shows: the live versions of the song are biblical, the addition of the audience-as-choir helping the track transcend all earthly planes. Sometimes, even Noel can't hold back the tears when playing it. Understandable.
1. Definitely Maybe (1994)
Fuckin 'ell, who'd ya think would be No. 1? You can practically smell the lager soaking into your brain through the speakers, your knackered oversized cargos dragging as you crawl towards the volume button to turn it up. Its no-bullshit exuberance and desperation betray a softer side, but it's the swagger that makes it one of the most exciting debut albums ever. Many bands would try to replicate its tumultuous power, standing on the shoulders of this giant and riding the coattails all the way to success (Arctic Monkeys, the Libertines, the Killers, obviously Coldplay), but none would live up to its magic.
You might have a good time, but you might also get your head done in. Therein lies the tension, the danger, the fucking power of it all. It walks a razor blade tightrope of loud riffs, big choruses, and neanderthal drumming (say what you will about Tony, but there was a simplicity to his playing that was undoubtedly punk), always teetering towards delirium, psychosis, megastardom. They hit all three, so they were clearly well prepared. Lads, you'll never top this. But that's definitely (maybe) not a bad thing.
Standout Track: It's a toss-up, but "Rock N' Roll Star" is everything. That sort of delusional grandeur, mixed with overdriven guitars and cocky, unchecked arrogance is exactly what superstar dreams are made of, and in this case, on. The way Liam draws out "sunshiiiiiiiine" is untouchable, and that hyper-simplistic chorus, made up of one, all-encompassing line ("Tonight, I'm a rock 'n' roll star"), summarizes the ethos of being in a band that was about to become one of the biggest in the world: belligerence, spirit, and the enduring power of dreaming big.