Authors: Paolo Hewitt
âCome on,' McGee said. âLet's go back to my place and play some records.'
At McGee's house there was an old battered acoustic guitar in the corner. At seven in the morning, Noel reached over, picked it up and played Alan McGee a song he had written years ago. It was called âRockin' Chair'.
A week later Marcus and McGee met up again with Garry Blackburn of Anglo Plugging to hammer out a strategy for the band's entry into the music world.
Blackburn already had good news. Steve Lamacq, a Radio One DJ, had booked the band for a session to be recorded on Wednesday 22 December and broadcast on 4 January. Oasis would be heard by millions.
What McGee and Marcus now wanted to do was to issue a white label of one of Oasis's strongest tracks, âColumbia', to all radio stations round about the same time as the recording of the Radio One session.
The song wouldn't be available in the shops. It would only be heard on radio. It was a good choice of song to introduce the world to Oasis. âColumbia' boasted a pile-driving rhythm, stinging guitar riffs from Noel, a contained vocal from Liam, catchy backing vocals, druggy lyrics, and managed to combine an obvious rock feel with a solid dance-orientated backbeat. Plus the title paid deliberate homage to the country that is notoriously known for its heavy cocaine production.
On 23 November 1993, three weeks after this decision was taken (and obviously with Noel's blessing as nothing could ever get down without his say-so), McGee went to see Blair McDonnell, the head of Sony Publishing, who wasn't convinced by McGee's new signing.
McGee had played McDonnell the Oasis tape in August. His response? Not interested. Manchester was three years ago. Forget it.
Now McGee was going in to threaten him. Get Oasis's publishing rights or let me out of our Sony distribution deal. McGee was anxious to secure the publishing deal as it would work in the same way as the recording deal, and he and Sony would become their publishers.
McDonnell was now a bit more interested but it would take another five months of McGee's persistence and haggling before Noel Gallagher, in April 1994, signed to Sony publishing for £125,000. It touched McGee that Noel chose Sony.
âHe had better offers on the table,' McGee recalls, âbut Noel went with Sony I think because he knew that I and my partner, Dick Green, got a percentage.'
But such business details sometimes eluded Noel, especially after a session with a bottle of Jack Daniels. McGee remembers leaving Noel's flat in Camden early one morning and the songwriter taking him aside. âLook Alan, I trust you, so for fuck's sake don't tell my publishers. But here's a load of new songs I've been working on.'
McGee took the tape and then looked Noel straight in the eye and shook his head sadly.
âNoel,' he said, âfor fuck's sake, I am your publisher.'
On 11 September 1993 Oasis played one of their most memorable gigs. It took place at the Duchess of York pub in Leeds. They will never forget it. There was no one present. Well, there was a couple sat in one of the comers. But then they got into a terrible argument and left. So Oasis played to the owner and the barmaid.
âWe couldn't decide whether to do an encore or not,' Noel said. âI mean I thought the crowd didn't deserve it to be honest with you.'
Still, it was a good warm-up for their In The City appearance three days later. But this time the buzz was about a group called Whiteout, and despite Garry Blackburn telling everyone he knew to check Oasis, the band went unnoticed despite receiving their first mention in the music press, a very encouraging NME review by Emma Morgan of their gig in late July at the Boardwalk.
âShout to the rooftops and dance in the streets,' her copy began. âCreation have not gone mad... Oasis are a genuinely fine guitar-propelled pop band.'
Later in the review she makes a reference to the undoubted Stone Roses' influence, and mistakes âDigsy's Dinner' for something called âStray Dogs'. But there is no doubting her enthusiasm. âOasis,' she concluded, âreally are the shoots of vitality in a barren pop land.' Not bad for your first-ever mention in the UK music press.
Their Canal Bar show was also reviewed by Paul Mathur at
Melody Maker
. He writes that there were less than one hundred people present, but, âOasis are magnificent'. He refers to their obvious influences â The Stone Roses, The Faces, The Happy Mondays, The Beatles, The Sex Pistols â draws attention to âLive Forever' (âan anthemic reiteration of the beautifully arrogant power of youth'), and concludes with the sentence, âOasis have got me. You're next and you'll love it.'
Along with this press coverage, Oasis also made their national radio debut at this time, and appeared in front of TV cameras, all on the same day. Radio 5 had a weekly show called
Hit The North
which was presented by Mark Radcliffe and Marc Riley, formerly of The Fall.
During the In The City week they had elected to showcase the most promising bands that were playing in Manchester. Riley was a friend of Caroline Ellery, who managed the group Intastella. It was she who urged him to put Oasis on.
At first, Marcus Russell was reluctant for the band to be previewed at such an early stage, but they soon persuaded him otherwise.
That day they came in and played âBring It On Down', âDigsy Dinner' and âCigarettes and Alcohol'. Peter Hook, the New Order bassist was co-hosting the show with Riley.
The band were downstairs in the basement and after they had finished âBring It On Down', Riley commented to Noel on the similarity between his guitar sound and the late Mick Ronson's, who was best known through his work with David Bowie.
Noel replied that they had actually dug up Mick Ronson from his grave but the smell was awful. Nearly as bad as that coming from Peter Hook's leather trousers.
âThey were so lippy and arrogant,' Riley recalls, âbut it was great to have them on.'
Directly after the show the band then travelled over to Leeds to perform two songs for a local TV show called
Something For The Weekend
. In this respect, the band had been helped no end by two people who Noel had met and who also lived in India House. Liam Walsh and Alison Martin worked for a plugging company called Red Alert. Their aim was to help young bands get radio and TV exposure and in the band's early days they did as much as they could, such as securing them their first appearance in front of the cameras.
The press was also starting to pick up now.
In the 2 October edition of
Melody Maker
Oasis received another mention. In an article entitled âState of the Nation' John Robb tipped Oasis as the band of the future.
On 7 October they supported Liz Phair at Manchester University and the NME reported (9 October) that she was heard to be complaining that Oasis spoke like âNew York drug addicts'.
A week later Oasis supported The Milltown Brothers at the same venue, before going off on tour with another Creation signing, The BMX Bandits.
They played Keele University on 27 October, and Sheffield University the following night. Then it was on to the Wherehouse in Derby on 1 November and the Wulfrun Hall in Wolverhampton two days later.
Still rabidly suspicious of any outsiders, the band didn't mix at all with the headlining group. On 4 November they played their first gig in London at the Powerhaus.
This was basically a showcase gig for the media, put on by Creation, and their next bit of press coverage wouldn't come until early December.
Meanwhile, Noel travelled up to Manchester to sign off. Much to his delight, he spotted Phil Saxe of the now-defunct Factory label in the same building, signing on. Revenge is so sweet, he thought to himself.
Noel also went to Louise's and gave her a cheque to cover the rent arrears. Then he returned to London and his new home.
Noel had experienced mixed thoughts about leaving Manchester. It was his hometown and he was fiercely proud of it. After all, it had, in his own words, âgiven me my life view', but he also knew it was filled with people who would rather hold him back than see him succeed.
Guigsy felt the same way and he soon left town as well, taking up residence in West Hampstead, and then London's West End before moving to his current residence in North London.
But Liam and Bonehead refused to join the others. Liam found London âtoo impersonal, I couldn't get my head round it', and Bonehead agreed. He had Kate to consider, too.
On 28 November Oasis supported the band CNN at Sheffield University, before regrouping in Birmingham to play support to Saint Etienne. One of their members, Bob Stanley, remembers Oasis well.
âLiam made a beeline for Sarah Cracknell, our singer, and was trying to give her lines of speed. At one time he actually locked us out of our dressing-room so he could talk to her. But Noel was friendly enough.'
No doubt Noel, although not a fan, would have admired Saint Etienne's pop, although their studied approach would have told against them. Noel is drawn primarily to passionate music.
This tour was the first time that Jeff Barrett had seen Oasis live. He was looking forward to the event. He had heard of Oasis through McGee and from his days as The Happy Mondays press officer knew Noel. Noel had also dated a Manchester friend of Jeff's, a pretty blonde named Hannah.
Jeff had now set up his own Heavenly Records label with his partner, Martin Kelly, who also managed Saint Etienne. It was Kelly who had specifically asked for Oasis to support them.
Jeff and Martin placed themselves at the front of the stage as the band came on. Within two songs they were vociferously cheering the band on. By the end of the set, they were left speechless by the band's sheer musical class, their charisma and their arrogance.
Afterwards, Martin Kelly quarrelled with Marcus over the band's payment while an elated Jeff Barrett went backstage and met Liam for the first time.
âI told him,' he recalls, âthat he reminded me of Nathan Gough who managed The Happy Mondays. Liam said, “Well, you can fuck right off,” and I told him, “Well you'd better get used to my face, it's going to be right in front of you at all your gigs.”'
Oasis were starting to get this now, people coming backstage and telling them how great they were. Their attitude, as ever, was, so you fucking should. You'd be a dickhead to think otherwise.
But it couldn't have escaped Noel's attention that the one song people kept on about was âLive Forever', a point again made in Paul Mathur's follow-up piece on the band that appeared in the 4 December issue of Melody Maker.
Mathur had been taken by Johnny Hopkins to the band's rehearsal room in the Boardwalk. There they ran through a selection of their songs and Mathur returned to London to write lines such as, âSongs like “Digsy's Dinner”, “Whatever I”, [sic] and in particular, the magnificent “Live Forever”, are delivered with an assurance that belies their relative inexperience. And they seem to be averaging about a dozen new songs each week, most of which are gobsmackingly tremendous.'
Mathur also quoted Liam as saying, âThere's a lot of people who seem to be making records just to fill up the time. We want to write classics.'
(You can just imagine Noel reading that line and then turning to his brother and saying, âOh,
we
want to write classics, do we?')
When Jeff Barrett returned to London, he made a phone call to Stuart Bailie at the
NME
, who was then editor of the Live pages. Although Barrett had no financial or otherwise interest in the band, his love for music was so contagious, he had to spread the news.
âStuart,' he said, âthis band Oasis? Well, everything you've heard about them is true. They're phenomenal.'
âReally?' Stuart replied. âThat's not what Johnny Cigarettes says in his review.'
Attending the same Birmingham concert, Cigarettes's opening line read, âIf Oasis didn't exist, no one would want to invent them,' and his final line said, âBut most annoying is the fact that they're too cool to have a personality or be more surprising than the dullest retro indie fops, too well versed in old records to do anything new, and evidently have too few brains to realise that any of the above is true. Sad.'
Noel insists that he was nonplussed by the review, and that is probably true. But to receive two differing reviews in the same week, one ecstatic and one totally and utterly dismissive, would have served to prepare him for the vagaries of the music press.
Such hiccups aside, there was undoubtedly a momentum starting to gather pace.
Melody Maker
writer Calvin Bush reviewed Oasis supporting Saint Etienne at the Plaza in Glasgow. After dismissing âShakermaker' he wrote, âAnd then, Oh God, they play eight songs, seven of which are more marvellous than Lena Olin [Hollywood actress in
The Unbearable Lightness of Being
] in slinky black lingerie and a bowler hat. They are, frankly, incredible.'
The band next headlined at the Warwick University on 4 December before moving on to another tour four days later supporting The Verve, a group they actually had time for. The Verve were led by Richard Ashcroft; Noel would later write a song, âCast No Shadow', with him and Paul Weller in mind. He would also make a dedication to Ashcroft on the
Morning Glory
album.
The tour lasted eight days and visited Wolverhampton, Manchester, Glasgow, Preston, Newcastle and Bradford.
The bands got on well with each other and there were several all-night sessions, playing each other CDs and tapes, taking each other's drugs and talking to the early hours.
The last Oasis date of 1993 was at the Krazy House in Liverpool, where they supported The Real People. Oasis were also back in the studio with The Real People, with a view to recording their debut single. But Noel felt uneasy. He knew that bands have to make a major impact when they launch themselves upon the world.
âSo I sat down,' Noel casually notes, âand wrote “Supersonic” and “Take Me Away”.'