For a while in the 1990s, I went off of American music, and to a lesser extent, Canadian music. For a newly minted music geek that felt he had just begun to experience the best that the alternate music world had to offer, Nirvana’s ascent on the scene and the life altering effect that had was like a death knell. And I don’t mean to get down on the Seattle-based trio here because it really was the fault of big music. The dollar signs shone bright green in their eyes and they followed their noses to the west coast, snapping up all the acts there, and when that was done, started sniffing out similar sounding acts the rest of the continent over and in some cases, tipping some more established acts into more consumer friendly territory.
Smashing Pumpkins predated the Seattle renaissance by a few months and their debut album, 1991’s “Gish”, already had prognosticators comparing them favourably to be the next Jane’s Addiction, who at that point were already on their way to implosion. The expectations were high with Virgin executives when the band went back to the studio with the now mystical producer Butch Vig to record their sophomore album. By all accounts, the sessions were fraught with difficulties – drugs and heartbreak and depression – but as we know, from adversity springs beauty and “Siamese dream” is widely considered one of the classic albums of the early 1990s.
I remember hearing them a lot on the radio and despite being initially turned off, given that they were being lumped in with the Seattle grunge heads, still found something palatable in their songs. Yeah, I knew they were from Chicago and wasn’t fooled by the hype machine, but I could also hear something different, an element in their sound that made me not want to turn off the radio. There was something theatrical there, owing more to the goths and noiserockers from the 80s. I went out and got a copy of “Siamese dream” on CD on the strength of these radio singles and quietly became a fan.
And now that I am spilling the beans here, I might as well admit that “Disarm” is the rod that reeled this music fan in. I mean, really… chugging acoustic strumming… haunting chimes… and dramatic intensity heightened by violin and cello strings. It is operatic in scope but not in sound. Billy Corgan spouts dangerous and strong words that got the song banned in some countries but in truth, this is just him dealing with the trauma and pain inflicted upon him by his parents during his youth.
“Disarm you with a smile
And cut you like you want me to
Cut that little child
Inside of me and such a part of you
Ooh, the years burn”
It’s a song that begs to be turned up loud and played on repeat and that I did, on both counts back in the day, often the volume knob easing slightly more clockwise with each listen. Great tune.
For the rest of the Best tunes of 1993 list, click here.
Band members:
Liam Gallagher (lead vocals) 1991-2009
Noel Gallagher (lead guitar, rhythm guitar, vocals) 1991-2009
Paul ‘Bonehead’ Arthurs (guitars, bass) 1991-1999
Paul ‘Guigsy’ McGuigan (bass) 1991-1999
Tony McCarroll (drums) 1991-1995
Alan White (drums) 1995-2004
Gem Archer (rhythm and lead guitar) 1999-2009
Andy Bell (bass, keyboard) 1999-2009
Selected discography:
Definitely maybe (1994)
(What’s the story) morning glory? (1995)
Be here now (1997)
Standing on the shoulder of giants (2000)
Heathen chemistry (2002)
Don’t believe the truth (2005)
Dig out your soul (2008)
Context:
It’s been a long, long, loooooong time since I’ve done one of these Top Five Tunes posts. The last one I did was on my favourite ever Industrial Rock tunes just over two years ago. In fact, I actually came up with the idea and created a draft for this Oasis post just about a year and a half ago, back in May 2021. It’s definitely time I pushed through the procrastination and just get this one done.
I think I actually got the idea to feature Oasis as my next subject because there were, at the time, rumours that they might be considering re-forming. The Gallagher brothers seemed to be on good terms. There wasn’t the usual animosity and smearing going on in the social medias. Indeed, I feel like I even remember seeing a photo of the two of them together, some time around the holiday season, spreading some cheer. Of course, said reunion never happened and instead we’ve returned to the very publicized battles between the two, especially on the part of the younger sibling. And in just the last few weeks, Noel was asked in an interview about the possibility. He responded that the band is bigger now than when they were together (!) and didn’t see a point. Personally, I think it’ll happen eventually, they’ve just got to get their solo careers out of their system and see enough cash thrown their way.
Oasis was formed in Manchester, England in 1991 when Paul McGuigan, Paul Arthurs, and Tony McCarroll auditioned a young Liam Gallagher to join their band The Rain as lead singer. His brother Noel attended one of their first ever performances together, didn’t hate what he saw, and started seeing possibilities for expanding on his songwriting ideas. When he was eventually asked to join by his younger brother, he said that he would, but only on condition that he write all the songs. They were later ‘discovered’ by Creation Records chief Alan McGee, who signed them to a deal and made a ton of cash when their first two records went monster status.
I got into them with their first album when my friend Tim recorded me a copy to cassette, raving about this Brit band to whom all his friends at Waterloo university were listening. It was love at first listen and I recognized one of the first handful of tracks (“Live forever”) from a CMJ monthly magazine compilation that I had purchased a few months earlier. Then, I had a chance to see them play a small show at Lee’s Palace, their first Canadian show, but I had to give up my ticket because I had an essay due the next day that I had yet to start. It’s a concert I’ve regretted missing ever since because from all accounts, it was a blistering performance. And of course, after that, they went huge, possibly in no small part because of the explosion of ‘Cool Britannia’ and everything British. A scene that became so prevalent that even in the midst of grunge, North America started to take notice.
“Definitely maybe” and “(What’s the story) morning glory” are now modern rock classics. But everything the band wrote and recorded during their first few years in existence was pure gold. Indeed, they even have so many excellent b-sides from this time that, “The masterplan”, the compilation they released in 1998 is still better than many of their contemporaries’ best albums. Like many others, I was pumped for their third record, 1997’s “Be here now”, and remember listening to its first single on the radio with great interest, but unfortunately, it was a bit of a letdown. They were finally completely let loose in the studio given their huge success thus far and it felt to me at the time that the results were overwrought and underwhelming. Of course, nowadays, I can appreciate it more but it just wasn’t the same and I began to drift from the boys from Manchester.
I returned to fold in the early 2000s, initially, because I heard a lot to like in their fifth album “Heathen chemistry” but it was their sixth, “Don’t believe the truth”, that really did it. I was an Oasis fan again. By this point though, the Gallagher brothers were the only original members left. I had almost completely missed Alan White, the drummer that had replaced Tony McCarroll when he was dismissed in the mid-90s. And of course, Guigsy and Bonehead both left just prior to Y2K and were replaced by Heavy Stereo’s Gem Archer and Ride’s Andy Bell.
I finally got to see them live shortly after the release of what would turn out to be their final album, 2008’s “Dig out your soul”. I convinced Victoria that I needed to go to the two day Virgin music festival on Toronto Island and that she needed to come on the second day, when the headliners were none other than Oasis. Of course, some of you might remember what happened that night. We didn’t actually see it happen because we had decided just previous to the fracas that we’d had enough of being right in the middle of the crowds and had started to make our way back during “Morning glory”.
Suddenly, the music abruptly stopped and there appeared to be mass confusion. I turned around to see the musicians shuffling off the stage but before I could make anything out, Victoria was reaching back for me to continue our way out to more breathing room. Once there, we asked someone nearby and they mentioned that someone climbed up on stage and pushed ‘him’ but didn’t clarify which him. I’m not sure why we assumed it was Liam that was pushed but we did. Noel eventually came out and performed a few more songs, with the rest of the band joining him a bit at a time, even, eventually, Mr. Liam. When we got home and watched the replays on YouTube, we learned that it was Noel that had been pushed from behind by a drunken hooligan, which made it more surprising that he was the first one back on stage, especially after the news came out later on that he had come out of it with a few broken ribs.
The band broke up the following summer in 2009. Noel went solo and Liam carried on with the rest of the group as Beady Eye. They released a couple of albums but it wasn’t the same without Noel. In the decade that has passed since, both Gallagher brothers have had a modicum of success on their own but the rumours and the clamouring for reunion just keep growing louder.
Oasis is now the stuff of legend and revisionist history. Their early work is untouchable and their later work more accepted with the passing of time. They will certainly always have place in this music fan’s heart. So yeah, narrowing their long list of great tunes down to a top five was a harrowing exercise but one that I braved for all of you. Enjoy.
The top five:
#5: Lyla (from “Don’t believe the truth”, 2005)
As I said above, the sixth album was the one that truly brought me back into the fold and I likely wasn’t the only one. It was generally agreed upon to be their best album in almost a decade, a return to form of sorts, and their highest charting album since “Be here now.” The first single was the brash and bouncing “Lyla”, a song that Noel Gallagher wrote but didn’t even really like until they got around to performing it live. “Hey Lyla. The stars about to fall so what you say, Lyla. The world around us makes me feel so small, Lyla.” There’s nothing small about this track at all. It’s gigantic and stadium-ready without being bloated. It is full length rock and roll guitar strumming and a banging and bashing rhythm by Zak Starkey that you just can’t escape. And then, of course, there’s Liam, sneering a love story about a girl named Lyla.
#4: The masterplan (from “Wonderwall”, 1995)
Oasis’s primary songwriter, Noel Gallagher has often referred to this as one of the best songs he has ever written. The problem, if you want to call it as such, is that it was just one of many great tracks that came out of a period of incredible productivity by the band in the mid-90s. As I inferred above, this meant so many of their b-sides had a-side written all over them and many of them ended up on their much lauded b-side collection, which took its name from “The masterplan”. First appearing on the “Wonderwall” single, it is a rare early track on which the younger Gallagher brother doesn’t appear at all. Noel takes lead responsibility, both on guitar and vocals, Bonehead plays the piano, original drummer Alan White keeps time, and an orchestra fills in the rest. As great a frontman as Liam is, I’ve always preferred Noel’s voice and here, it’s as epic and big as the sound. “Say it loud and sing it proud today. I’m not saying right is wrong. It’s up to us to make the best of all things that come our way.” The horns, the strings, the muscular guitar, and Noel’s rock and roll posturing are all part of the masterplan.
#3: Live forever (from “Definitely maybe”, 1994)
A whistle, an ‘oh yeah’, a big pounding on the bass drum, and then: “Maybe… I don’t really wanna know… how your garden grows, ‘cause I just wanna fly.” This was my introduction to Oasis. First heard on a CMJ new music monthly sampler, my ears pricked up to the brash earnestness of it all, the solid guitars and the pure joy of the noise. It was the third single released in advance of their debut album but the first to catch the attention of the music world at large. Written by Noel well before he had joined the band, it seems to just explode with optimistic energy and youth. This is a band cranking the volume on all the knobs and laying it all out there, not caring if they make small mistakes or whether they’re letting their influences show too much, they’re just rocking it, man. This kind of music is timeless and eternal.
#2: Don’t look back in anger (from “(What’s the story) morning glory?”, 1995)
From the band’s massive second album, which boasted a ton of hit singles like the title track, “Roll with it”, “Champagne supernova”, and the intergalactic “Wonderwall”, this one here was hands down my favourite of the bunch. It’s a hammering on the piano, like an angry rendition of “Imagine”, and lots of wailing and screaming and mountainous guitars, but most of all, it’s Noel bringing down the house. The was first single to feature the chief on vocals, rather than his younger sibling, and thankfully for all involved not the last. I remember being in a pub one night a good five years after its release and the entertainment that night was a guy with his guitar covering a wide range of popular tunes. At one point, he broke into this particular track and when he got to the chorus, I swear the whole pub joined in shouting “And so Sally can wait, she knows it’s too late, as we’re walking on by” at the top of their lungs and as one. It was anthemic then and it is every time I hear it. There’s good reason that Manchester picked up on it and used it as a rallying call following the bombing at the Manchester Arena in 2017. As Noel has said, it’s about not being upset with past but instead looking forward.
#1: Whatever (from “Whatever”, 1994)
Yes. That’s right. My favourite Oasis tune is from neither of their first two big records but a non-album single released between the two. In fact, it is the only one of the five that I don’t yet have in my vinyl collection, something I would love to remedy should I ever find a copy of the EP out in the wild. For me, the nearly six and half minute tune almost perfectly encapsulates what made Oasis so great in the early- to mid-nineties. It’s big and epic and orchestral, positive and uplifting, instantly hummable, and wears its influences like an obvious pair of cheap dollar store nose glasses. Noel was always forthright in how he lifted directly from his heroes when writing his own songs but in this case it might’ve been too obvious. The shout-along refrain of “I’m free to be whatever I, whatever I choose, and I’ll sing the blues if I want” sounded a little too close to singer/comedian Neil Innes’s tune “How sweet to be an idiot”. Litigation ensured and bam, Innes secured himself a songwriting credit. But who cares? Noel doesn’t and I don’t. You can’t tell me it’s any less of a song. Nobody got hurt. In fact, I’d be willing to bet it’s laissez-faire message has cheered up many a soul. I’ll take it any day. Cheers!
For other top five lists in this series, click here.
Back when I counted down my Eighties’ best 100 the first time, “99 luftballons” came in at #99. Honest to god. And I didn’t even plan it that way.
In fact, I hadn’t even realize what I had done until I was discussing the list with my friend and colleague Ian and let slip the song at #99 on said list. I actually considered switching the list order right there and then, so that the readers on my old blog didn’t think I was trying to be clever. In the end, I decided it was too early in the game to be making changes to the list and in spite of those original worries, I decided to let the list grow organically this time around as well, and the let proverbial chips fall where they may. So it is merely incidental (I assure you) that for this redux, the song moves up one spot to number 98.
Of the now three songs into my top 100 songs of the eighties, “99 luftballons” is the first but most likely not that last song by a so-called “one hit wonder” to grace the list. I think it would be near impossible to discuss the best tracks of the nineteen-eighties without one or two of them rearing their ugly noggins because the decade was full of them.
Unlike the previous two songs, I distinctly remember listening to this one when it was popular back in 1984. I used to watch the Chum FM 30 video countdown every week on CityTV and wait for the video to come on, typically near the top of the list. What I didn’t know back then though was that the version I was listening to (and watching) was translated and re-recorded into English from the original German to be more palatable for international audiences (hey, I was still a kid). I didn’t actually hear the original German version until almost a decade later when a friend in university put it on a mixed tape of retro tunes that she made for me.
Nena (named for the lead singer Gabriele Kerner, whose stage name was Nena) came from the very German school of New German Wave music. It originated as an underground scene that was heavily influenced by British Punk and New Wave. As the sound gained popularity, more commercially viable bands based on this sound came out of the woodwork, incorporating English instead of German lyrics, among these were Nena and other acts you might recognize (like Alphaville, Peter Schilling, and Falco).
Most people I encounter prefer the German version of the song but I can appreciate both (and I have included both for your listening pleasure below). The German version because it is as was initially intended and the English because I likely would have never truly understood the song in the first place and it really is worth understanding. It’s not just a good beat that you can dance to. In fact, its Cold War protest implications landed itself a place in an exhibit I once took in at the Canadian War Museum on the impacts of the Cold War on music and music videos, along with Alphaville’s “Forever Young.” I don’t think that particular exhibit is still there but the museum is very cool and if you’re ever in Ottawa, I highly recommend checking it out.
I’m sure you’re familiar with one of these two versions but here they are for your enjoyment nonetheless.
First, here’s the German version:
Now, the English version:
Original Eighties best 100 position: #99
Favourite lyric:
In German:
“Hab’ nen Luftballon gefunden / Denk’ an Dich und lass’ ihn fliegen” I don’t know what she’s saying – it’s just the way she sings it.
In English:
“This is what we’ve waited for / This is it boys, this is war” Again, it’s the way she sings it.
Where are they now?: Nena (the band) broke up long ago but Nena (the solo artist) had a resurgence in popularity in the early 2000s and was rather prolific up until 2015. She most recently released a new album called “Licht” in 2020.
For the rest of the Eighties’ best 100 redux list, click here.
My (life in) music lists 