I’ll be honest: I am physically incapable of being cynical about this. Surely, there are more clear-eyed observers who will point out the obvious. This is (probably) happening because Noel Gallagher recently got divorced and he (absolutely) needs a sizeable infusion of that sweet reunion cash. It is (likely) that Liam Gallagher’s voice will sound (very) dodgy after howling over so many stadium crowds. There is (certainly) no “true” Oasis lineup at this point — it’s all about casting the right grizzled rock guys in Rod Stewart haircuts that can stand (sort of) credibly behind Noel and Liam. And there is a (fairly decent) chance that the shows won’t be great.
I get all of that. But I don’t care. I just don’t. I have been too busy contacting everyone I know in London and asking them to save a couch for me. (I guess they call it a “settee” over there.) I am looking into flights. I am concocting the precisely right excuse that will persuade my wife to sign off on me buying tickets to a stadium rock gig on a different continent. (Maybe more than just one?) That’s because — in spite of everything — I am excited. I am as excited as a person who has been speculating on the possibility of a reunion for at least two years can be.
And that has a lot to do with Definitely Maybe, Oasis’ debut album that came out 30 years ago this week. If you’re a music fan, you probably have a handful of “I remember exactly where I was when I heard it” albums. Definitely Maybe is that for me. I can recall being in the 10th grade and buying Definitely Maybe on cassette after reading about Oasis in Rolling Stone. I can envision putting the tape in my mother’s car, hearing “Rock ‘n’ Roll Star,” and deciding instantly that this was my new favorite band. And that’s what they were until I entered college and Oasis discovered cocaine and nine-minute songs.
What Oasis haters never quite understand is that loving Oasis is a holistic experience. Yes, you love them because you love the songs. But you also love them for the interviews. And the documentaries. And the lore that comes from seemingly countless other sources. You love Oasis in their totality, in a way that’s not common these days, particularly for rock bands. There are countless artists now making great music. But most of them are boring. They can’t crack a good joke at your expense or their own. So your admiration can only be one-dimensional. That has never been the case with Oasis. They are the rare band that can still entertain you even their music isn’t up to snuff. (On the other hand, their catalog is much deeper than their “only the first two albums are great” reputation suggests, which I made the case for in this column.)
I still love Definitely Maybe. (And I love Be Here Now and all the rest.) To celebrate the album’s 30th birthday — and these new reunion dates — here is my ranking of all the songs on Definitely Maybe.