Oasis: So much more than Wonderwall
Aidan Elwig Pollock urges you to drop your pretensions and listen to the back-catalogue of an era-defining band that remains strikingly relevant.
Four months ago, stuck in heavy traffic on the M1 Motorway heading back to Brisbane, I told my cousin he should get into Oasis. We started from similar places in our music discovery journey, and for years now have swapped recommendations during our roughly quarter-yearly catch-ups. I expected him to like the band – a band that is part of a unique little club in my mind: musical groups that have changed my life.
What I got was a slightly sneering chuckle, followed by “Wonderwall is so generic and shit”. Taken aback, I stammered out a half-hearted defence of Liam, Noel, and the boys before falling into an awkward silence.
Should I have expected anything else? That was certainly not the first time I’d had such an interaction. From a good friend listening happily to the first two songs of (What’s the Story) Morning Glory? before switching the radio off in disgust when “Wonderwall” triggered the realisation that yes, we were listening to Oasis, to random acquaintances raising the spectre of the basic white boy who picks up an acoustic guitar at a party to strum out a half-baked cover of the song – everyone seems to associate Oasis with that song and that song only.
It’s not always a negative reaction either. Upon enquiring of my now-ex-girlfriend if she’d listened to the band’s oeuvre, her first reaction was “I love Wonderwall!”. A similar sentiment has been uttered by other friends and acquaintances whenever Oasis comes up in conversation. It seems then, whether this association is good or bad, Oasis is inextricably linked in the public consciousness to “Wonderwall”.
This is no surprise, really. First of all, despite the snobbery it remains a brilliant track – simple and safe doesn’t necessarily mean bad, and there is something to be said for a contained, approachable, and most importantly beltable-in-the-car-or-drunk-at-a-party pop song. It was also a massive hit, reaching Number 2 on the UK singles chart and hitting Number 1 in Australia. The song, along with the rest of (What’s the Story) Morning Glory? helped cement the icon status of Oasis and has become an anthem of the Britpop era; no wonder it defines Oasis for the generation growing up in the band’s shadow.
But Oasis is undeniably so much more than “Wonderwall”. The band, its legacy marred by the troubled relationship of the Gallagher brothers, pumped out banger after banger in a meteoric rise to fame that resembled something of a supernova – burning incredibly bright before imploding in ignominy.
Oasis certainly has a signature sound, and it’s not at all what you might expect if you’re only familiar with “Wonderwall”. Coming out of Manchester in the early ‘90s, the Gallagher brothers’ formative musical experiences were very much rooted in the frenetic Madchester scene. Noel Gallagher himself was a roadie for the Inspiral Carpets, a seminal Madchester band, and the members of Oasis have cited the Stone Roses as key inspiration for getting a band together.
The Madchester scene burst into brief life in the very late ‘80s, when bands like the Stone Roses and the Happy Mondays took the city by storm. Clubs like the Haçienda reverberated with house-music-infused-psychedelic-indie-rock: a unique mix that relied as much on heavy MDMA use as the undeniable talent of the Madchester musicians to land with a late-Thatcher working-class crowd.
This distorted, ‘60s inspired indie dance-rock had a clear influence on Oasis. Despite the stripped back acoustic-plus approach taken in “Wonderwall”, and the poppy bop that is “Don’t Look Back In Anger”, much of Oasis’ discography is marked by ragged guitars and heaving drums, all pinned under Liam Gallagher’s unique snarl. The band’s explosive 1994 debut album Definitely Maybe is a testament to this fact. From “Rock ‘n’ Roll Star”, which opens the record with bluesy apathetic-aspiration, through “Columbia” and its heaving circular dance-rock rhythm, to the Hendrix-esque hook of “Slide Away”, Definitely Maybe is a relentless tour-de-force of heavy indie rock that encapsulates the band’s distinctive sound, tambourine and all. Closing track “Married With Children” gives a hint at the bands softer side, foreshadowing the lighter lilt of tracks like “Wonderwall” and “Talk Tonight” that would come later, but on the whole the album is a rough and dirty alt-rock ripper.
Even with the development of the band’s sound in their brilliant sophomore album (What’s the Story) Morning Glory?, a jagged edge remains the core of Oasis’ sound. The intensely satisfying guitar-fuzz on “Roll With It”, “Some Might Say” and “Morning Glory” may well be complemented by (well-placed) sampling and more polished production, but this distinctive Oasis sound is very much right there and in your face.
Of course, as I’ve mentioned, the band has its tender moments and is certainly all the better for them. Oasis has a reputation for releasing some of its best songs as B-sides, including the impressively vulnerable and delicate “Talk Tonight” – which also showcases Noel Gallagher’s own vocal talent. But on the whole, “Wonderwall” isn’t necessarily representative of the sound that defines Oasis’ discography – a striking fact when you consider that the band is essentially known, at least among people my age, for that single song (along with “Don’t Look Back in Anger” and “Champagne Supernova”, perhaps).
Oasis also remains an excellent band for young people. Coming of age under late-stage-Thatcherism, Noel Gallagher’s lyrics embrace a sense of being young, cynical, and slightly hopeless. This is a musical vibe that is only enhanced by Liam Gallagher’s guttural vocals and deliciously extreme arrogance. Whilst my experience doesn’t connect with the troubled upbringing of the Gallagher brothers or their austerity-enforced poverty (although the frustration of being a young person living under an ageing conservative government is certainly something I can relate to), their music certainly hits all the right spots for a generation defined by government inaction in the face of the climate crisis: where cynicism abounds, Oasis is a salve – something just as true for Generation Z as for our parents in the Britpop generation.

What also goes beyond “Wonderwall” is the story behind the band: one of the most compelling, exciting and in some ways tragic rock’n’roll tales of all time. Oasis was always a troubled band; close in age, the Gallagher brothers always quarrelled even before their acrimonious and very-public estrangement. A fight on a ferry to Amsterdam, along with other drunken antics, produced a bad-boy reputation for the band (and a very funny interview entitled “Wibbling Rivalry”), whilst the unceremonious dumping of the bands original drummer Tony McCarroll – Noel Gallagher believed his drumming wouldn’t be up to the task for his vision for the band’s second album – led to prolonged legal trouble.

Despite the controversy and general turmoil, Oasis went from being practically unknown when they signed to Creation Records in 1993 to releasing the best-selling UK album of the 1990s in 1995. In 1996 Oasis played to 250,000 people over two nights at Knebworth, and in 1997 the much bemoaned Be Here Now was the fastest selling album in British history. Unfortunately, this was not to last: rifts in the band (particularly between the Gallagher brothers), further public controversy, line-up changes and a fading interest in Britpop lead to a steady decline in attention for the group. The Gallagher brothers continued to make music with a remodelled Oasis, but it frankly wasn’t the same – all the way up to the explosive final disintegration of the band in 2009, when the Gallagher brothers had a terminal argument – involving guitar smashing – moments before coming on stage in France. Oasis ended that night, the concert was cancelled – despite the gathered audience – and the band has never reformed.
We should remember that despite the appeal of such a dramatic rise-and-fall story, Noel and Liam Gallagher are indeed real people, and the very public destruction of their close fraternal relationship would have been heartbreaking for the people involved. But then, part of the enduring appeal of Oasis is that despite the arrogance, and the boorishness, this was a band of real people – self-raised and ordinary. Despite the lavish lifestyle, this was music made by a bunch of originally normal boys from Manchester – and it shows in the best possible way.
“Wonderwall” is nevertheless a great track – it’s on my rotation playlist and I regularly and unashamedly bang it out (I’m entirely talentless, I can assure you) in the car. But Oasis are clearly so much more than that. It is this ‘so much more’ that has made them a life-changing band for so many people, including myself.
I was 19 when I first listened to Oasis properly. Of course, the band had been in my consciousness for as long as I can remember. But it was in 2021 that my mum finally coaxed me into listening to her (What’s the Story) Morning Glory? CD that she’d owned since her early-twenties in Britpop-era London. It took me a while to get into it, but after a few plays on aimless drives I started to connect in a big way. Songs like “Roll With It” and “Some Might Say” gave me energy and hope in an otherwise rather dull period of my life, while more vulnerable tracks like “Hey Now!” and “Cast No Shadow” connected with my late-adolescent malaise and accompanying struggle to define myself as an adult. Following a period of disconnect, I re-entered the sonic world of Oasis during a particularly rough period in early 2022, when I fell in love with Definitely Maybe and its rousing feel-good energy – a much needed musical shot in the arm through tough times.
Even now I’m still on my Oasis journey; over the Christmas holidays I fell headfirst into an earworm relationship with the single “Acquiesce”. Noel Gallagher maintains that it’s a song about friendship, but to me it will always be about that unique brotherly love among siblings that don’t necessarily always get on: something I can certainly relate to on a personal level. Just last week I finally worked my way around to another single, the absolutely relentless “Fade Away”, which is positively brimming with the energy that I think everyone needs in their life. Every few weeks I’ll rediscover an Oasis track that I’d previously overlooked and be absolutely hooked for a while: a brilliant feeling.
All in all, if you haven’t had a proper listen to Oasis because “Wonderwall is generic and boring”, I have two things to say to you. First, don’t be a snob: It doesn’t have to be an orchestrally backed prog-rock musical odyssey to be a good song. Second: do yourself a favour and take a deep dive into their discography. Oasis may be defined by “Wonderwall”, but they are made of so much more. Who knows, it may even change your life.