Oasis: Standing on the Shoulder of Giants

A A A Comments By Scott Henkemeyer Wednesday, Mar 8 2000

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Oasis
Standing on the Shoulder of Giants
Epic

OASIS ARE, PINTS down, the crown princes of Britpop, though a gaggle of bruisers out there would surely queue up to refute me. The band is as much vilified as it is revered, which is precisely why the scrapes and scraps of the oft-insolent Gallagher brothers Liam and Noel are so delicious to follow. Boozy battles, indiscriminate snogging, and drug busts make pungent tabloid fodder, provide critics loads of ammo, and serve as pheromones for fans. It's been fun so far. And yet when Oasis shrug off this brash reputation on its fourth proper release, it's not a moment too soon.

Oasis wear their celebrity vices on their collective sleeve--their music is really just a symptom of their decadent joie de vivre. But Shoulder finds Oasis ripe and sober, with the music to match. In the past year, the Gallaghers have traded press tussles for family photo ops (both are new daddies). Noel has abandoned his palatial London home (tagged "Supernova Heights") for a country manor. And, perhaps most telling, longtime mates Paul "Bonehead" Arthurs and Paul McGuigan split the band.

That progress is all captured on Shoulder. The spry conceit of Definitely Maybe has been grumpily stifled. The nouveau-riche trappings of (What's the Story) Morning Glory? have been haughtily shed. And rather than trying to top the egotistical pomposity of Be Here Now--a nearly impossible feat anyhow--Oasis have submerged their uncompromising cockiness and trademark surliness in a heady psych-rock stew.

The requisite windy anthems remain, but they now reveal unexpected intricacies within their soaring machismo--on the vaguely gospel "Roll it Over," the boys humbly serve up fuzzy power chords in atonement for past iniquities. Liam ditches his disdainful sneer on "Little James," the tender love note to his wife and stepson. And, most shocking, Oasis have all but bid farewell to the Beatlesesque (although "Who Feels Love" is spiked with microdots of "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds"). Perhaps this is another case of rock 'n' roll middle age--the aural equivalent of settling into pastoral digs and dining with the PM. But it's a kick to watch how sheepishly our boys grow up, regardless.

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