Getting High (29 page)

‘What's McGee like?' Noel asked him. ‘I mean, if he makes an offer is he serious or is he just off his head?'

Bodgiano replied, ‘If he says he wants to do it, he's probably serious.' Then he started enquiring about the vacant managerial slot within the Oasis team. Noel told him he'd get back to him on that matter.

Noel then phoned Creation and made an appointment to see McGee the following Thursday. The fact that McGee had agreed to see him was positive, even if Noel was still in the dark about the Creation boss's real feelings.

What he didn't know was that as Oasis had travelled home that night, McGee had staggered back to his Glasgow hotel, the Lorne on Sauciehall Street, and immediately got on the phone to every significant Creation employee to tell them he had just discovered the band of the decade.

One person he called was Johnny Hopkins, the Creation press officer. ‘We were used to McGee's mad phonecalls,' he explains, ‘but this time was different. You could tell he had seen something really special.'

Another call was placed to Tim Abbot, the marketing manager.

Abbot had come from a marketing background. He had set up his own marketing consultancy in the 1980s and worked on accounts with the likes of Levi's and Pernod. In 1988 he necked his first Ecstasy pill. In 1989 his business went down the drain. So he and a friend went travelling round Thailand and the Philippines.

On his return to Britain, Abbot started a club in the Midlands called the Better Way, which put on bands. One night McGee came up to see the Manic Street Preachers, Saint Etienne and East Village play there.

He brought with him his friend Bobby Gillespie and introduced himself to Abbot. They chatted during the soundcheck. The upshot was that at the end of the night they were all to be found at Abbot's house, E'd up and playing records until dawn.

Abbot's collection reflected his youth. There was plenty of Northern Soul, masses of other related black music with classic rock albums mixed in. McGee was impressed. He liked a man with a big record collection.

When he met Abbot again, six months later in Birmingham, McGee offered him some part-time work. Within a year, Tim Abbot was managing director of Creation Records, and his brother Chris was employed by the label as well.

‘I got this phonecall from Alan absolutely arseholed in Glasgow,' Abbot fondly recalls. ‘It was in the middle of the night and he was going, “I've just seen this fucking amazing band, it will turn the company round. This is the band I've always been looking for. It's The Sex Pistols crossed with The Small Faces. They're like mad Manes, and trust Creation to sign a band from Manchester”, which at the time was the most unfashionable city, A&R wise.'

On 3 June 1993, Noel, Liam and Bonehead travelled down to London and made their way by taxi to 8 Westgate Street, Hackney, home of Creation Records. Press officer Johnny Hopkins remembers looking up and seeing three-fifths of Oasis for the first time.

‘You were just drawn to them,' he recalls, ‘they just had this massive presence which you couldn't ignore. Most other people who come in just blend in, but they were magnetic.'

While waiting to see McGee, Noel quickly studied all the pictures that the Creation boss had pinned to the office walls.

He saw artists that he liked, The Faces, Paul Weller. But there were others, such as Big Star, even Lynyrd Skynyrd whom he didn't have a clue about. Not that Noel would ever let a fact like that stand in his way.

Noel went down to McGee's office and the two started talking about musical likes. Noel kicked off by telling him that he was a huge fan of Big Star.

‘And he told me all about the bands that I liked and because he was so into music, I was saying to him, “You're the first person since Bobby Gillespie that's totally tuned into my musical taste.”' McGee now gives the laugh of someone who knows he's been totally had.

‘Up until about six months ago I thought I'd found the ultimate musical soul brother.'

Noel and Liam then went and met the other employees. Downstairs, in what Abbot refers to as the ‘bunker', there was a room whose walls had been plastered with pictures of various celebrities.

‘It was like an A-to-Z of our minds,' Abbot explains. ‘Everybody from Tommy Cooper next to George Best, Rod Stewart next to Kate Moss, Wilson Pickett next to Brian Wilson, all blue-tac'd to the walls. The carpet was sodden with booze, stank of fucking booze and it was a fucking shithole, grade A.'

It was here that the Abbots and the Gallaghers hit it off. Chris spoke mainly to Liam (indeed, they would holiday together later on in Portugal), while Tim, Alan and Noel chatted and chatted, Bonehead occasionally joining in.

For their part, Alan and Tim didn't try to sell Creation to Oasis. Instead they spoke about clubs, music, football (Abbot is a United supporter), all the things that motivated them.

At some point, it was pointed out to Noel that he should think hard about getting a manager. Bodgiano was an option but so too was Johnny Marr's manager, Marcus Russell. Noel had passed on an Oasis tape to Marr's brother, Ian.

‘You have to understand,' Marr says, ‘that I get loads of tapes so when my brother gave me that Oasis tape, I didn't play it for at least two weeks. My brother kept badgering me about it. Finally, I played it and it was great. I just thought it was brilliant. Anyway, not long after I was driving through town with my brother and he went, “Look, there's that guy from Oasis”, and it was Noel walking down the street.

‘So we pulled over and went and had a drink with him. Then I went to see them in Manchester University with Marcus.'

Marcus Russell had been astonished by Oasis's performance that night.

‘Well, I thought they were fucking wonderful,' he enthuses, ‘I mean, I thought they were a breath of fresh air. Honestly. But I didn't think there and then, I'm going to manage these, because I didn't know them.

‘I got introduced by Andrew Berry to Noel's girlfriend during the gig and she said, “Oh, you're Marcus”, and told me that the band didn't know that I was coming to see them. I told her, “It's no big deal, I'm just in town but I thought the music was a breath of fresh air because it reminded me of all the things that I've loved in the last twenty years.”'

Oasis's set that night included ‘Digsy's Dinner', ‘Fade Away', ‘Up In The Sky', ‘I Am The Walrus', and the public premiere of ‘Live Forever'.

On the way back from the gig, which took place in a small student union bar called the Hop and Grape (Marr and Marcus didn't stay to see Dodgy because of the attention Marr was starting to get from the crowd), Marr asked Marcus what he thought of the band.

‘I thought they were really good,' Marcus replied, playing it safe. There was a silence. Then Marr turned to his manager again.

‘You're going to manage them, aren't you?'

Marcus asked, ‘Why do you say that?'

Marr replied, ‘Because normally you immediately dismiss everything.'

‘And that,' Marcus says, ‘is when I first started thinking seriously about it.'

Meanwhile, as their future manager drove back to London, Oasis had a problem on their hands concerning their equipment. Guigsy's car wasn't starting, and that meant they had to load his gear on to Bonehead's van. A huge speaker cabinet was left standing out on the street.

Someone would have to wheel it back to the Boardwalk, Noel pointed out. It's far too big to get into a cab and by the way, boys, it certainly ain't going to be me.

They groaned. When it came to packing all the gear away, Noel always played foreman.

Guigsy recalls, ‘We'd be breaking all the gear down and he'd be there winding up leads or something going, “You want to do it like this”, but he'd never get on it. Then he'd go, “Guigsy, can you give us the keys to the van, I'll go and open it up.”

‘And he'd be dead industrious 'cos he would grab something light and you'd think, well, he's a professional with the Inspirals, isn't he?

‘Then he'd get in the van with all these leads and say, “I'll stay here and you pass everything up to me.” And you'd be going up and down the stairs with all the amps and instruments. It took us months to cotton on.'

Who then to deal with this huge cabinet standing idly outside the Hop and Grape? Ten minutes later, passers-by were intrigued to see Liam and Guigsy in the middle of the road, pushing a huge cabinet.

‘You couldn't put it on the pavement,' Guigsy recalls, “'cos the wheels were those little round plastic ones and all the little paving stones would make it jump too much and you'd fuck up all the connections. So we had to push it on the road, like a pair of fucking dustbin men and we nearly got run over by two buses.'

‘And there were all these cars,' Liam recalls, ‘going, beep, beep, beep and we're going, “Fuck off,” and all these people are watching us. But it had to be done.'

Of more importance to Noel was what Marr's manager, Marcus, had thought of the gig. Louise had told Noel that Marcus was present but he had quickly disappeared. What did that mean? Noel thought. That he wasn't impressed? Is that why he didn't come backstage?

The next day, Noel called him up at Ignition to find out. Yes, Marcus reassured him, I was impressed, very impressed. ‘Do you want to have a chat about things?' Noel wanted to know. ‘Sure,' Marcus replied.

‘Well what are you doing now?' Noel asked.

Marcus gave out a small laugh. ‘But you're in Manchester, aren't you?'

‘Yes,' came the reply, ‘but we do have trains up here, you know.'

Five hours later, Noel Gallagher and Marcus Russell sat talking in a cafe near the Ignition offices in London's West End. Marcus told him what he thought about Oasis, how he loved them playing ‘Walrus', and that the other songs were ace. Plus, he added, your singer looks fucking cool, a real star in fact.

Noel replied by telling him how he was sick to the back teeth by all these crappy bands like Suede and REM making it big, and here they were, a great band, with nothing to show for it.

‘He was just explaining his vision,' Marcus says, ‘and I bought it hook line and sinker. He was just totally and utterly faultless. I don't know what it was but I was totally convinced. At the end of the conversation, I was like, I'm there.

‘He said, “Well do we get a contract?” I said, “No, I don't do contracts, but I want to be your manager and if that's fine by you, we'll shake hands.”'

Noel put out his right hand and Marcus Russell shook it. He was now manager of the best new band in the country.

‘What about the rest of the guys?' Marcus asked.

‘They'll be fine,' Noel replied. ‘Don't worry, I'll go back and tell them.'

Marcus said, ‘I should come up and meet them.'

‘I'll fix it up,' Noel promised. ‘I'll call you tomorrow.'

Then musician and manager went their separate ways.

‘And then it struck me when I got home,' Marcus recalls with wry amazement. ‘I had just taken on a band and I haven't even got a tape of them. I've seen five songs live, met this geezer, and that was it. I was their manager.'

The Oasis magic, in the area.

Noel went back and told the band about Marcus. Then he sent one of the demo tapes of the Liverpool sessions down to him. The day after he phoned up and arranged for Marcus to meet the band in the City Inn pub, near to the Hacienda.

By the time Marcus got to that meeting he was utterly convinced that he had something truly special on his hands.

‘I just fell in love with that tape,' he enthuses. ‘After about a week of playing the tape, I started thinking, this looks like being the band I've been dreaming of ever since I started in the business.

‘A rock ‘n' roll band in the good old British tradition with great songs, who are up for it and for whom hard work is a piece of piss. They just had all those ingredients.'

All of Oasis, bar Tony McCarroll, were present at this meeting. There was a very good reason for the drummer's absence. The band wanted him out. According to them, the drummer hadn't progressed musically. When he first joined, he was easily the most proficient. Now he had been overtaken. That was bad enough, but worse still was that none of the band got on with him. They just couldn't fathom it out. He seemed to have no interests, no overriding passions to dominate his life. To the Oasis way of thinking, he just wasn't right.

It showed, Liam says, in his general behaviour. ‘I never,' the singer asserts, ‘saw him clean his kit once, change the skins or talk about this drummer's cool or this drummer's great. He was coming along with these pieces of paper and I was like, “You don't need them. Just practise every day, that's how you get good. That's what I do.”

‘I sing every day. I'm always singing, Noel's always playing his guitar, Guigsy's always fiddling with the bass, Bonehead's the same. There's no point getting a piece of paper out 'cos the thing that makes a good drummer is trying things out, and the reason you can't do it is because you haven't got any records. Sit down and play The Who, The Stones, The Beatles, listen to them because that's where it comes from, not a piece of paper.'

Guigsy, who is the first to admit that his bass playing skills are not above the norm, says, ‘For the first six months of rehearsals I always thought it was me fucking up. Then I realised that it was him. He just didn't progress.'

So, the band told Marcus, we want him out. Not a good idea, their manager told them. You've got a string of gigs coming up, you're about to sign a deal and go in the studio; if you sack him now you're going to lose three months while you find someone more compatible.

The thought of having to put everything on hold at a time when the band was so eager to get going, deterred them from their plan. Unlike Pete Best, the Beatles' drummer who was sacked just after the group signed to EMI, Mccarroll was allowed to remain. For the time being.