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Tunes

Top five tunes: The Charlatans

(Miss me? I know. It’s been a while. 

It’s almost becoming a trope with me during each summer. I sustain a bit of blogging fatigue, leave off writing and posting entries, come to the realization that I have less time to dedicate to this hobby of mine than I used to have, weigh the pros and cons of the whole thing, and eventually decide to soldier on, albeit at a less frequent pace.

So here I am again, soldiering on, much like the subject of today’s post: The Charlatans.)

Who? The Charlatans (aka The Charlatans UK)

Years active: 1989-present

Current Members:
Martin Blunt (bass)
Tim Burgess (vocals)
Mark Collins (guitars)
Tony Rogers (keyboards)

Past Members:
Jon Brookes (1989-2013)
Rob Collins (1989-1996)
Baz Ketley (1989)
Jon Day (1989-1991)

Selected discography:
Some Friendly (1990)
Between 10th and 11th (1992)
Up to Our Hips (1994)
The Charlatans (1995)
Tellin’ Stories (1997)
Us and Us Only (1999)
Wonderland (2001)
Up at the Lake (2004)
Simpatico (2006)
You Cross My Path (2008)
Who We Touch (2010)
Modern Nature (2015)
Different Days (2017)

Context:
The title of ‘Madchester survivors’ that is often bestowed upon The Charlatans (known as The Charlatans UK here in North America) is actually a misnomer given that the band is not from Manchester at all. The band originated in the West Midlands circa 1988. Despite the geographic distance between The Charlatans and the other bands that rose to prominence out of the ‘Madchester’ scene, they were consistently thrown in with that lot based on the coincidental similarities in initial influence and sound. Their music was anchored by Martin Blunt’s solid, driving basslines and Jon Brookes’ funky drumming but it was Tim Burgess’s simply smooth vocals and especially, Rob Collins’ monstrous work on the Hammond organs that gave The Charlatans their soul and made a name for them in the early days.

I became a fan of their music perhaps a year after their debut album was released in Canada. “Some friendly” and their sophomore release, “Between 10th and 11th”* were albums that were consistently in my Walkman in the early 90s and both are still among my favourite albums of all time. Their third album, “Up to our hips”, wasn’t my favourite at the time but it didn’t stop me from purchasing their next album, 1995’s self-titled LP, the first of many ‘comeback’ albums. I think The Charlatans may have released more ‘comeback’ albums than any other alternative artist, except for perhaps David Bowie, and I think this is where the aforementioned moniker of ‘Madchester survivors’ may be partly right. The Charlies certainly are survivors.

They soldiered on through the arrest (in 1992) and the death (a few years later, in 1996) of their founding keyboardist, Rob Collins. In fact, you got the sense that the band rallied around that disaster and released their best-selling album (in the UK) to date. Then, in 2013, founding drummer Jon Brookes died from a brain tumour, which personally, really hit me hard and sent me on a serious Charlatans kick, listening to all 11 albums released at the time, in quick succession. I remember briefly wondering at the time whether The Charlatans would continue to exist after the loss of Brookes. Sometimes the deaths of band members can destroy bands and any momentum they might have had, but for the second time, The Charlatans managed to weather the loss of one of their own. Indeed, 2015’s “Modern nature” heavily featured work done by Brookes before his passing and that wasn’t the last we heard from the band.

Thirteen studio albums, six compilations, and close to fifty singles into their career, this band has persevered where many of their so-called peers have disappeared… or perhaps reunited years later to tour on the backs of twenty-five year old songs (no offense, Stone Roses, I love you too). The Charlatans have accomplished this, I think, simply by keeping things real and fresh and pursuing their latest sound wherever their moods take them. They’ve toyed with reggae sounds, folk country and even some Curtis Mayfield soul, but have always been sure to keep their own stamp on their songs.

As I might have hinted earlier in this post, I have owned every studio album The Charlatans ever released, be it on cassette tape, compact disc, MP3, vinyl, and a good deal of their EPs and singles as well. I’ve always been game when I hear there’s a new Charlatans release coming out because they’re one of those bands that I’ve become a bit of completist about but also because I’m always curious as to what they’re going to sound like the next time around. Not every album has been slam dunk solid, some I have only listened to in full, a handful of times, but every album they’ve released has produced one or two gems.

I’m pretty sure I’ve mentioned this before somewhere in these pages but my friend Tim and I have discussed The Charlatans’ legacy at length, over multiple conversations and beers now, and also the topic of whether anyone will remember them in ten or twenty years. I was and still am firmly of the belief that they will be remembered, if only metaphysically through their influence on the musicians of the day who grew up listening to them. Sure, they are not as well-known here in North America (even less now than they were in their heyday in the 90s) but in their native England, they appear to still have a substantial following. As I read recently to my own disbelief, every one of their full-length studio albums have hit the top 40 charts there and their tours are always very successful.

Though no hiatus has been announced and indeed there have been Charlatans tours galore, it’s been seven years since we’ve last seen a new studio album by the group. It’s been even longer than that, more than two decades, since the group has produced a tune that surpasses some of my own personal faves but it doesn’t mean the group is done. Indeed, frontman Tim Burgess might have became even more famous than his group during the pandemic when he started a cultural phenomenon with ‘Tim’s twitter listening parties‘ as a way of occupying himself during all the lockdowns. But this didn’t stop him from keeping his band involved, including most, if not all of his group’s releases on the ‘show’s’ episodes. The Charlatans’ last compilation album, “Head full of ideas“, came out in 2021, just a year late in celebrating the group’s 30th anniversary, and though there’s been no news either way, one can’t help but think there’s something new pending on the horizon.

Until then, these five tunes are still my favourite Charlatans ditties.

The top five:

#5: One to another (from “Tellin’ stories”, 1996)

I remember seeing a piece a decade ago on the Uncut website that has long been taken down in which frontman Tim Burgess compared this particular track with Joy Division’s “Love will tear us apart”. Not because the songs sound anything alike but because it was the last song that was recorded by the band before the original keyboard/organ player, Rob Collins, died tragically in a car crash. For Burgess, this placed a certain mythos on the song, much like that other famous song that will forever be tied to Ian Curtis’s suicide. But far from being dark and haunting, “One to another” is a swaggering, stomping anthem for the club kids of the Britpop era, Jon Brookes crashing about on his kit and helped along by some wicked drum loops courtesy of The Chemical Brothers’ Tom Rowlands. Press “play” below and turn it up.


#4: Weirdo (from “Between 10th and 11th”, 1992)

“Most of the time you are happy… you’re a weirdo.” That first line of the song is almost as instantly recognizable as is that crazy organ riff and hyper drum beat that get the song off to a roaring start. To this day, “Weirdo” remains The Charlatans’ biggest hit in North America and it’s unsurprising given it’s almost a perfect melding of 60s psychedelic rock and dance-ready drum beats. Heck, this song made us all dancing fools, but whenever I hear it, it’s my friend Andrew Rodriguez that I picture, wearing a Reni-style bucket hat, pulled down so that you can barely see his drunken gaze, dancing in a crouch by himself on the dance floor, arms waving wildly both to keep time to the melody and to keep himself from falling.


#3: A man needs to be told (from “Wonderland”, 2001)

“A man needs to be told” is easily my favourite Charlatans track released after the turn of the century. It is here, perhaps to a lesser extent than on the other tracks on 2001’s “Wonderland”, that you can hear Burgess’s flirtation with Mayfield-esque falsetto vocals. The first time I heard the song I almost thought that it couldn’t be The Charlatans. It blends elements of soul and funk, layers slide guitar over a dancing bass jive and some excellent time-keeping by Jon Brookes. It starts off in a mellow groove (there’s that word again) oddly reminiscent of Chapterhouse’s “Mesmerise” but the gospel backup vocalists chime in at the last minute and the drums suddenly kick the song into high gear. You’ve just to got to listen to it to understand what I mean. Simply fantastic.


#2: Tremelo song (from “Between 10th and 11th”, 1992)

There’s a long story that goes along with my love for this track**. And given this story, “Tremelo song” became something of an anthem for my high school friend Andrew Rodriguez and me the year after we graduated. Even though neither of us knew what a “tremelo” was, we forever called a certain very memorable day “Tremelo day”, given that we had felt what we imagined the featured character in the song’s music video felt. Let it suffice to say, “Tremelo song” will always hold a special place in my soul due to that certain time and place in my life when I felt that Burgess was singing about me and my life in this song. Put your earphones on for this one folks because it’s made for it. The keys, the drums, the bass are all layered on, one at a time, combining for one killer hook.


#1: Sproston green (from “Some friendly”, 1990)

To tell the truth, there was such a jumble and jockey for the order in this top five of songs that I wasn’t really sure until I finished drafting this post as to which would be number one. In the end though, it had to be the final track on The Charlatans’ debut album, “Some friendly”. There’s just something so epic about “Sproston green“. Maybe it’s the lengthy, slow-building intro. Perhaps it’s the way the song never gives an inch, the equally driving drum beat and bass line and the “raise the goblet of rock” guitar riff. Listening to it on repeat while finishing up this piece this week, it struck me how it hasn’t aged a day, timeless, like a good deal of The Charlatans material. Let’s turn it up for one more listen. And then, perhaps, I’ll go back to listen to their entire collection one more time and revel once again in Jon Brookes’ brand of drumming, Rob Collins’ (and then, Tony Rogers’) keyboards and organs and of course, Tim Burgess’s random wording and perfect lyrical delivery.


*This post became a necessity when I realized, while throwing together my list of my favourite tunes of 1994 (the series for which shall start sometime in the near-ish future), that I somehow managed to miss including some great tunes from my very favourite album by one of my favourite bands while counting down my list of Best tunes for 1992. So this post is recompense, in my own little way… many apologies to Tim, Martin, Mark, Jon, and Rob.

**Being typical gen-Xers, I was taking a year off after high school to “work” before heading to university for higher learning and my friend Andrew Rodriguez went back to high school to boost his grades. There was a day in the spring of that year that we called “Tremelo day”, based mostly on the video for the song. On our “Tremelo day”, we both woke up hungover, though I daresay Andrew was moreso than I. Andrew had had a fight with his girlfriend, got kicked out of a party, and proceeded to get rip-roaring drunk the night before and woke up on the couch at a mutual friend’s apartment. I woke up in my bedroom in the basement of my parents’ house, having drunk a bit myself the night before. That weekend’s want ads were left resting on my head, a none too subtle jab at the fact that I was still unemployed almost a year after graduation. Of course, the threat didn’t feel empty at the time so when Andrew showed up at my door not long after I got out of bed, I left with him, both of us unshowered and unshaved, making us a sorry set indeed. We spent the day aimlessly wandering our small town, scraping together the few coins we had to nourish our hungover selves. Somewhere near late afternoon, Andrew made the connection between our meager existence that day and that of the guy in the “Tremelo song” video.

For other top five lists in this series, click here.

Categories
Tunes

Top five tunes: The Specials

(We interrupt our regularly scheduled programming today with a special guest post from our good friend Andrew Rodriguez, who was perhaps inspired to write some words by the recent news of Terry Hall’s death. We will return to our end of the year Best Albums countdown on the morrow. Enjoy.)

I met Todd Burnham in 1986. He was an “Old Boy” from the Boarding School I attended for a few years. In fact he was partially responsible for me being sent there in the first place, our fathers were friends, and Mr B had told my father about how ‘impressed’ he was with the school. What impressed me about Burnham most however, was his style. He was a Rude Boy. And he dressed like nothing I had ever seen. 2 Tone Dr Marten brogues, rolled up jeans, Fred Perry, Stingy Brim and a jacket covered in patches. “What is Ska?” I asked. “It’s early reggae – it’s faster tempo”. I cooly memorised all the names of the bands displayed on his jacket and made a note to seek out what albums I could, when I got to go home. The largest of the patches had a checkerboard theme and said simply ‘THE SPECIALS’.

About a year later I bought my first Specials album, with my allowance. It was called More Specials – their second album, though I didn’t know that at the time. From the first needle drop, I was very much hooked. A danceable mixture of styles and themes, characterised by a sort of (my term) pragmatic moodiness.

They formed around 1977 in Coventry England, from a band called the Coventry Automatics. They were key figures in the “2 Tone movement”, also called “second wave ska”, which was based around the 2 Tone record label (created by Jerry Dammers – their Organist). There were several other notable bands on that label but I won’t discuss them here. If you choose to look further into the Specials (you should), do not be confused by the names. Early on they went by the name “Special AKA”, and variations thereof. That name was also used by the second incarnation of the band, so it can get a bit confusing! With various lineup changes they’ve been an active touring and recording band since reforming after their first real breakup in 1984.

For the purposes of this short entry (no-one is allowed to go over word limits here – we are professionals goddammit!) I’ll skip the details of the band, that is what Wikipedia is for (be sure to donate too they are begging for money). I’m also going to stick to their (best) earliest era, lineup, and albums.

OK! They were just such a striking band. Their dress style was heavily influenced by the early 60s mod scene. Their first album was produced by Elvis Costello, and had a punk feel to it, something you really get in their live recordings. By the second album they slowed the tempo down a bit and the sound was fuller and more produced. More Specials also included outside personnel, including the Sax player from Madness and the singer from the Bodysnatchers – both labelmates on 2 Tone. Their lyrics were substantial, addressing daily life, with some political and social commentary elements thrown in for good measure. They looked cool and sounded even cooler. In keeping with the restrictions placed on me spirit of this blog, I’m now going to introduce you to 5 of my favourite Specials tunes. I hope you enjoy this as much as I do!

“Concrete jungle” (from The Specials, 1979)

Remember I mentioned the punkiness of some of their early stuff? First up is a live version of Concrete Jungle, from their self-titled debut LP. It’s not a cover of the Bob Marley song. The grainy footage is taken from a film called Dance Craze which was a sort of promo for 2 Tone, it and the associated live album are quite good, and feature most of the bands on the label. Both are on Youtube.

“It’s up to you” (from The Specials, 1979)

Now, this is direct from the first album – The Specials. I picked this because it showcases a bit more of their ska/reggae influences. The entire album is worth a spin, it’s hard to select just a few.

“Rat race” (from More Specials, 1980)

Next up we have Coventry’s finest looking very Scholarly, in the video for a tune from their second album (and the one I bought first) More Specials. Rat Race (again not a Bob Marley cover!). Note the slightly moodier tone. Note also, singer Terry Hall and the band don’t look nearly as dated as the 1980 kids in the ‘classroom’ – some looks just don’t go out of style.

“I can’t stand it” (from More Specials, 1980)

Hey – I coined the term “pragmatic moodiness” – so I certainly as EFF can determine this song to be the epitome of it! From More Specials, and a personal favourite, I Can’t Stand It. verbally jousting with Terry Hall is Rhoda Dakar – the singer from the Bodysnatchers.

“Ghost town” (from Ghost town, 1981)

NOW. The final selection, this is from the Ghost Town Ep. It was a single and it went to number 1 in 1981. Shortly thereafter Terry, Neville, and Lynval left the group to form Fun Boy Three. Ghost Town was a 3 song Ep and it is phenomenal. It is more reggae than ska. Since I really can’t make my mind up – you really should check out all three songs, each is very different. Friday Night and Saturday Morning is probably my favourite Specials song of all. But I won’t play it here because I’ve already done a moody song. Why? is also fantastic. But I will take the lazy route and just select the single itself. I drove around town a lot listening to this during the lockdown(s). You might see why it was stuck in my head.

Well that’s a wrap. Thank you for reading. Sadly, the day that I wrote this, I learned (from John) that Terry Hall died. The details are sparse, which generally leads some to speculation. There is no speculation to be found in these pages; merely respect, and appreciation for a fantastic singer and entertainer. Thank you Mr. Hall. You will be missed. On a more positive note I would like to wish the readership a Merry Christmas, and Happy music listening New Year!


A few more stats on The Specials

Years active: 1977–1981, 1982-1984, 1993, 1996–2001, 2008–present

Original band members:
Terry Hall – lead vocals (1977–81, 2008–22)
Lynval Golding – rhythm and lead guitar, vocals (1977–81, 1993, 1994–1998, 2008–present)
Horace Panter – bass guitar (1977–81, 1982, 1993, 1994–1998, 2000-2001, 2008–present)
Jerry Dammers – keyboards, principal songwriter, vocals (1977–81)
Roddy Radiation – lead guitar, vocals (1978–81, 1993, 1996–2001, 2008–14)
Neville Staple – toasting, vocals, percussion (1978–81, 1993, 1996–2001, 2008–12)
John Bradbury – drums (1979–84, 2008–15)
Dick Cuthell – flugelhorn, trumpet (1979–84)
Rico Rodriguez – trombone (1979–81, 1982)

Discography (studio LPs only):
The Specials (1979)
More Specials (1980)
Today’s Specials (1996)
Guilty ’til Proved Innocent! (1998)
Skinhead Girl (2000)
Conquering Ruler (2001)
Encore (2019)
Protest Songs 1924-2012 (2021)


For other top five lists in this series, click here.

Categories
Tunes

Top five tunes: Oasis

Who? Oasis

Years active: 1991-2009

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.