'I witnessed the birth of Oasis firsthand'

West Australian

4 days ago

It's hard to think about the 90s without Oasis. Not only were they the most successful British group of the decade, the Gallagher brothers came to define the so-called 'lad culture' of those high times. As standard bearers of a genuine working-class revolution, they were caricatured as the drinking, drugging, brawling 'supayobs' — but Oasis were far smarter, and artier, than they were letting on. They combined the majestic power of the Sex Pistols and the melodic nous of the Beatles to create their own 'Sex Beatles', just like Nirvana was doing. Yet, unlike Kurt Cobain, they were more about redemption than nihilistic self-destruction. They were renegade outsiders who believed in the power of rock'n'roll as a means of escape; their life-affirming songs soundtracked a youthful optimism for better times. I got to know a pre-Oasis Noel Gallagher on the Manchester band scene whilst attending gigs in the late 1980s and early 1990s. He seemed to be at every gig, the Hacienda or the all-night raves in squatted flats in the then-bohemian wasteland of Hulme. He already had an in-depth knowledge of bands and music history, and was as passionate about the classics as great lost Manchester bands such as World Of Twist or Yargo.
Soon after, when he started roadying for the Inspiral Carpets, I would see him at their gigs or at the band's office at New Mount Street, the hub of the 80s Manchester music scene. When he first formed Oasis in 1991, he gave me demos — which I still have including one of the band's very first, which he handed me on Whitworth Street near his then-flat in Manchester city centre. It was a demo full of hope of a band straining against a national music scene that had decided Manchester was over.
Early Oasis rehearsed next door to my band in the Boardwalk rehearsal rooms around the corner from the Haçienda — the heart and soul of the Manchester music scene. Most of these bands would rehearse a couple of times a week, but Oasis seemed to be in there every day, grafting and plotting in the dusty damp of the cellar rooms.
They were in there so much that they had even decorated their room, painting the brick walls white, adding a small pop-art Union Jack painting and two Beatles posters. These were the psychedelic April 1967 photoshoot with American photographer Richard Avedon, and the shot of The Fabs on the steps of Brian Epstein's London flat on the day of the launch party for Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. There was method in the madness. One of the smartest people I've met in bands, Noel always knew what he was doing. The three years on the road around the world with the Inspiral Carpets had been a crash course in how bands worked. He understood the dynamics and the graft as he sound-checked all the Inspiral Carpets' instruments, and had even tried out to be the band's singer when Stephen Holt, their original vocalist, had left. He also spent hours in the office on the phone or looking after the T-shirts.
After Inspiral Carpets rejected his audition as frontman, he entered 1993 determined to make it with his own band. It wasn't easy — in the early days the band were overlooked despite his connections and drive. London bands like Suede were all over the music press, and it felt like Manchester bands were out of fashion. A few years later Noel said he felt like 'the last one of my generation to make it'. In that first year, it seemed like Oasis was a hobby built around Noel, with a quiet, 20-year-old Liam in tow. But Liam had rockstar looks and a wild self-belief. And both, growing up sharing a cramped bedroom on a council estate in Burnage, were united by the desire to escape the drudgery of life, the shadow of their errant, difficult father and their then-broken city. In fact it was Liam who had initially found a local band who made a great racket but needed a singer with star power. After coaxing Noel to join, they knew they had something powerful. The brothers' dynamic was fascinating: Noel would write and Liam would deliver his brother's lyrics in one or two perfect takes, just minutes after learning them.
It was this innate understanding of his brother's emotions that contrasted so dramatically with the pair's many fall-outs. The brothers' psychodrama was described perfectly in 1997 by an 18-year-old Pete Doherty: 'I subscribe to the Umberto Eco view that Noel Gallagher's a poet and Liam's a town crier.' Still reeling from the effects of the post-industrial meltdown, late-80s Manchester was far removed from what it is today. The city's famous two Sex Pistols gigs in 1976 had sparked a post-punk revolution of the 'Manchester kids with the best record collections', as Tony Wilson once quipped, from the Buzzcocks, Factory Records and the Haçienda to Joy Division, The Smiths, The Stone Roses, and the Happy Mondays. The young Oasis became the final chapter in the city's transformation.
Live Forever: The Rise, Fall And Resurrection Of Oasis by John Robb is out now. Oasis play Docklands Stadium, Melbourne, October 31, November 1 and 4 and Accor Stadium, Sydney, November 7 and 8.
© John Robb / Telegraph Media Group Holdings Limited 2025