“All my people right here, right now, d’you know what I mean?” It’s my favourite line from my favourite Oasis song. Cocky and communal all in one. Relatable and untouchable at the same time. Noel and Liam Gallagher summed up in one almighty hook. Let’s hope D’You Know What I Mean makes the cut for next year’s reunion tour because despite being one of the biggest, most bombastic hits the band ever had, it now flies weirdly under the radar.
Or perhaps it’s just a victim of not being on the two most lauded Oasis albums, Definitely Maybe (1994) and (What’s The Story) Morning Glory (1995). There’s a locked-in narrative that things rapidly went downhill creatively for the band after those initial twin peaks, which serves to both mythologise early Oasis, but also to ignore so much great subsequent music. So let’s right that wrong! But first, some thoughts on why the long-awaited Oasis comeback isn’t just about the money…or at least not entirely.
Sure, the money – a reported 50-million pounds each for the Gallaghers to reform Oasis – is so insane that yeah, you can say they’re doing it for the cash. But life is more fun when we’re not cynical. And I choose to believe that beyond a payday that will dwarf the entire career earnings of most other music superstars, there are a couple of other factors at play behind the pop cultural earthquake that Oasis are back.
At the top of that list? It’s what the people want. Demand is expected to be so huge that not only will all of 2025’s 14 initial British and Irish stadium gigs sell out within seconds, some commentators are predicting this as the most lucrative – in a save-the-economy, GDP-impacting kind of way – comeback tour in history.
Close behind the pleasing of the people? The securing of the Oasis legacy. The Gallagher brothers were always unapologetic about wanting to be in the biggest rock & roll band in the world. That was part of their charm. That and the fact Noel Gallagher is one helluva songwriter and Liam Gallagher one of the all-time great frontmen.
Add to that an endlessly quotable, headline-grabbing, love-hate fraternal friction and what one writer has just described as a “thermo-nuclear charisma”, and it’s little surprise Oasis were so enormous. Imagine Oasis without all the bust-ups? Or rather, imagine how lesser their fame would’ve been had they not – by design or by accident – always found ways to be in the press?
But what’s more interesting is that they are still so popular, and especially with younger fans who weren’t there first time around. Before they disbanded in 2009, if journos weren’t talking about the latest Gallagher argument, it was the unwavering story arc of Oasis’s decline following their first two releases, Definitely Maybe (1994) and (What’s The Story) Morning Glory (1995).
And while that might be broadly true, it’s also a boring, lazy narrative that ignores so many outstanding songs. With time away so often a good thing, the new generation of Oasis devotees are less likely to care if Be Here Now and Standing On The Shoulder Of Giants aren’t as consistent as albums one and two, they’re just here for the tunes. And Oasis have the tunes. More than you remember. 23 UK top 10 hits, 19 top 5s, a staggering 17 top 3s and 8 number 1 singles.
On those stats alone, Oasis are among the most important British bands of them all, and just in case you’re stuck on that idea there’s nothing worth listening to after Morning Glory, a full 16 of Oasis’s 23 top 10 hits are from 1997’s Be Here Now onward. Songs like D’You Know What I Mean, Stand By Me, Little By Little, Stop Crying Your Heart Out, The Hindu Times, Who Feels Love, Lyla; don’t let anybody tell you those aren’t essential Oasis tracks.
But irrespective of album or era or chart placings, Oasis continue to thrive this deep into the 21st Century because of how the band – music and image – makes people feel.
Liam’s famous rock & roll swagger and – in more recent years – his humour and social media prowess are substantial parts of the story, but it’s the evergreen arm-in-arm hope of tracks like Don’t Look Back In Anger and The Masterplan (both Noel leads) that create memories and human connections whether you’re listening in the 1990s or the 2020s.
The point being, Oasis were cool, uncouth, unguarded, hilarious, arrogant and working class. But for all the brashness and bravado, those Gallaghers love a love song. And music that speaks of being part of something bigger than ourselves.
Both Liam and Noel are probably now at a juncture where they better understand their legacy. The dream came true, but as good as they can be apart – and they’re not bad – Liam still can’t write a song like Noel. And Noel – no matter how good a vocalist he is – is no match in the frontman stakes against Liam.
It’s also about making sure it isn’t just the current new-ish crop of Oasis fans mixed with the older lot they’re targeting with next year’s run of mammoth stadium gigs, it’s the generations after that.
If you look at three bands with roots in the 60s who reached their critical and commercial peaks in the 70s – the Eagles, Fleetwood Mac and the Bee Gees – all three had legacy-sealing comebacks in the 90s centred upon concerts and live albums/DVDs as well as new music. For the Eagles it was Hell Freezes Over (1994), for Fleetwood Mac it was The Dance (1997), and with the Bee Gees it was Still Waters (1997) and One Night Only (recorded 1997, released 1998).
The Fleetwood Mac and Bee Gees resurgences were tied to the 20th anniversaries of their most iconic albums, Rumours and Saturday Night Fever. For the Eagles, it was the hook of them only getting back together “if Hell froze over”, giving them the perfect name for a reunion 14-years since they’d so acrimoniously split.
It’s plausible that without Hell Freezes Over, The Dance and Still Waters/One Night Only, the legacy – and indeed the modern-day streaming numbers – of each of those A-list acts might look a fraction different. Those 90s comebacks locked in how legendary and uniquely talented they were, but more than that, they gave them legions of fresh fans who in turn would pass on their music tastes to their children.
If timing is everything, enough time had passed that the comebacks of the Bee Gees, the Eagles and Fleetwood Mac were genuinely newsworthy. And with all three acts still young enough to look and sound great and still be capable of strong new material, it meant they hadn’t left their comebacks too late.
In the case of Fleetwood Mac, Lindsey and Stevie ramping up the drama and sexual tension to barely containable levels on live performances of songs like Landslide and Silver Springs didn’t hurt one bit either. I can remember yelling at one Fleetwood Mac New Zealand concert just after they’d finished Landslide, “JUST GET BACK TOGETHER ALREADY!” So much love and hate combined. Irresistible.
Which is to say, the timing is right for Oasis. They’ve been away long enough that this reunion is massive global news. They are young enough to still be good; great even. They will secure their legacy for decades to come. Their recent solo stuff suggests if there is new Oasis music it would be more than decent, making them creatively still relevant. And if Lindsey and Stevie swapping scowls and glad-eyes was a significant chunk of Fleetwood Mac’s live appeal post-The Dance, then so too will be the combustible brotherly chemistry between Noel and Liam.
Plus their mum Peggy wants them to get back together. And apparently Paul McCartney has told Noel and Liam that he regrets not reuniting with John Lennon in time. So do it for your Mum. And do it for Paul. And do it because it’s clear to millions of fans that “Oasis” is what you were put on this Earth to do.
10 Essential Post-Definitely Maybe & Morning Glory Oasis Songs:
10: Go Let It Out (2000)
The first single from Standing On The Shoulders Of Giants topped the charts everywhere from the UK to Italy, Spain, Ireland and Canada and is – according to Noel – the closest Oasis got to sounding like a modern-day Beatles. A whiff of psychedelia with a funky, loping bass.
9: Songbird (2003)
The first Oasis single to be written by Liam, this gentle, breezy ode to his then-fiancee Nicole Appleton is proof that sometimes two-minutes is all you need for a great song. Simple, affecting and even Noel was a fan. A UK #3 hit and the fourth and final single from Heathen Chemistry.
8: The Hindu Times (2002)
Noel borrowed the title from a T-shirt he saw someone wearing and thought it would make a good title for a song. He was a right, even if the track has nothing to do with Hinduism nor India, beyond a sitar-sounding lead riff throughout. With Noel a massive Bee Gees fan, the other thing he borrowed were some lyrics from the 1967 classic To Love Somebody, though now it was a light that did shine on him/Liam, versus the light that never shone on Barry Gibb. Another UK #1 and the lead single from Heathen Chemistry.
7: Who Feels Love (2000)
I might be at a table for one in a world where everyone has opinions on all things Oasis, but not only have I not forgotten that Who Feels Love ever existed, and not only will I defend it as being way better than the mediocre tag those who do recall it tend to give it, but I freakin’ love Who Feels Love.
Like a lost Summer Of Love, quasi-spiritual, psychedelic amble of the most groovy kind, Who Feels Love – the second single from Standing On The Shoulder Of Giants – became the first Oasis single to miss the UK top 3 in six years. But only a band as massive as this could a single peaking at #4 be considered a failure.
6: Don’t Go Away (1997)
“Damn my education, I can’t find the words to say / About the things caught in my mind”. Well damn my education, but that is a great lyric, Noel. One of Liam’s finest vocal performances on a ballad too. A sad, sensitive track on the otherwise full-noise LP that was Be Here Now. For some reason not a single in the UK.
5: Stop Crying Your Heart Out (2002)
Arguably the most enduring Oasis song of the 21st Century, Stop Crying Your Heart Out is currently the band’s third most-streamed song on Spotify behind only Don’t Look Back In Anger and Wonderwall*. Oasis might be a rock & roll band, but don’t underestimate the appeal of the backs-against-the-walls rallying cries of ballads like this. A UK#2 and the second single from Heathen Chemistry.
*Currently the third most-popular Oasis song in terms of streams for the previous week at the time of writing, as opposed to third most popular of all time.
4: Lyla (2005)
A radio-friendly stomp that Noel once suggested was perfect for pogoing to. Pogo stick or not, Lyla sailed all the way to UK #1 and felt like a comeback for a group who to that point had never been away. With a working title of “Smiler”, the band have joked that Lyla is the sister of the Sally mentioned in Don’t Look Back In Anger. The lead single from Don’t Believe The Truth.
3: Stand By Me (1997)
I like the gumption to lift a title from one of the most famous songs of all time. I also like how big this bittersweet Be Here Now ballad is in every sense: the production, the brotherly harmonies, the chorus and even that first line of “Made a meal and threw it up on Sunday / I’ve got a lot of things to learn”. A UK #2.
2: Little By Little (2002)
Potentially about Noel’s divorce, but the repeated usage of the word “we” makes it sound more existential: “Little by little / we gave you everything you ever dreamed of…” One of several Oasis songs with religious imagery, from the Buddhist concept of “true perfection has to be imperfect”, to the more Psalm-like arguing of “but my God woke up on the wrong side of his bed”. Ostensibly a bitter song, but masked by a soaring chorus. One of six UK #2 hits for the band, another smash from Heathen Chemistry, and among Noel’s most defining lead vocals.
1: D’You Know What I Mean (1997)
Noel shamelessly took the same chords as Wonderwall but instead of an acoustic singalong for the ages, the band went large. As in countless layers of guitars, indecipherable background vocals, reverb, drum loops, recordings of helicopters and airplanes, and even Morse Code beeps. As the debut single to the most hotly anticipated British album of the decade, for Oasis to hit the market with a seven-and-a-half-minute song where barely anything happens for the first 60-seconds showed supreme confidence.
Or indeed, arrogance. But like with many things in life, it’s only an issue if the talent and execution don’t match the ego, and D’You Know What I Mean was exactly the statement the biggest band in the world should be releasing to shout from the rooftops WE ARE THE BIGGEST BAND IN THE WORLD.
The detached-cool of the war-zone video complete with dozens of helicopters sent the message too: Oasis had money to burn and all their people right then and there knew what they meant.
Be Here Now would soon be derided for its bloated, cocaine-fuelled excess and maybe some of that criticism is fair, but D’You Know What I Mean sounds as brilliant and huge in 2024 as it did when I was a 16-year old in 1997. And beyond the chorus hook, it’s full of classic Noel lines like “coming in a mess / going out in style”, “No-one can give me the air that’s mine to breathe”, some more battling religious imagery with “I met my maker and made him cry”, and even a couple of Beatles’ titles thrown in with “fool on the hill and I feel fine”.
Liam announced his intentions to the world with the very first song on the very first Oasis album, Rock ‘n’ Roll Star from Definitely Maybe. With D’You Know What I Mean – both the song and that unforgettable video – what he manifested came true. It’s always been the pinnacle of Oasis for me and not a thing has changed. A UK #1 (of course).