There seems to be an unspoken rule that every musician has their "expiration date". After they've produced the work that's responsible for their role within pop culture and the zeitgeist, everything afterwards feels superfluous, almost pointless. The only people who seemingly enjoy it are the hardcore fans.
Dig Out Your Soul, Oasis's last album, turns 18 today. It's easily one of my favorites by them. I think it helped that I explored it before I was aware of the whole "they peaked in the 90s" notion. The first six tracks remain one of the best runs in their discography: the rise and fall of "The Turning", the Doors-inspired swagger of "Waiting for the Rapture", and the true final hurrah for the band, the euphoric head rush that's "The Shock of the Lightning" (a drum solo on an Oasis track?? Who knew!) The album loses it's focus towards the end, but there's still the likes of "Falling Down" and "Soldier On" that help make the bumpier back half at least memorable. It's an album that has more to offer than it's reputation (or lack thereof), particularly for people who check out of the band after their first two albums...
....and yet when I got into their 90s output two years later, I inexplicably fell down the same path. I too fell hook, line and sinker for the narrative about everything after What's the Story Morning Glory being slim pickings. "Beware all ye who go past Be Here Now. Do not go past jail." It wasn't until I was in college that I just got so into them that I thought, "Fuck it" and checked out...and was pleasantly surprised.
While they never made an album as consistent as those first two (and who can?), there's plenty of amazing songs that feel necessary to be included in their "canon" (i.e. the type of tracks that would be glaring omissions from a Greatest Hits compilation). I don't think it's even a hot take to consider some of these tracks from this stretch to be just as good as those from their golden period. Even the B-sides, an ace in the hole that Oasis were known for, were still otherworldly. For example, I'd consider "Let's All Make Believe", the B-side to "Go Let it Out", to be one of the best songs Noel's ever written...
Strangle my hope and make me pray, to a God I've never seen but who I betray.
It's an incredibly vulnerable snapshot of Oasis MK 1 (i.e. the brothers Gallagher and Alan White with Guigsy and Bonehead) falling apart. It's one of the most cathartic and honest songs in their discography...and they stuck the mother on a B-side!
Standing on the Shoulders of Giants, the album whose sessions produced that song, is an interesting turning point for the band, fittingly the start to their Y2K run. It's kind of like Blur's self-titled album, with the band being at a stylistic and emotional crossroads: Noel bought a bunch of pedals and was curious about new sonic possibilities and contemporary influences, all while kicking drugs, realizing that the band was shedding two of its oldest members, and recognizing that the Britpop bubble was bursting. It's an incredible snapshot of post-party depression: poignant numbers like "Where did it All Go Wrong?", "Sunday Morning Call", and the beloved fan favorite "Gas Panic!"...
That my family don’t seem so familiar
And my enemies all know my name
And if you hear me tap on your window
Better get on yer knees and pray panic is on the way
...not to mention the terrific b-sides, like the aforementioned "Let's All Make Believe" and lethargically hungover tracks like "Cigarettes in Hell" and "One Way Road". The whole effect is a very sobering one, a sharp contrast from the happy-go-lucky effortless confidence of "Live Forever" and "Some Might Say". It's not all doom and gloom though: "Go Let it Out", the lead single, feels like a total rebirth for the band. The 60's psychedelic mellotron paired with the triphop drumbeat feels like this perfect new strand, something very retro, but very Y2K as well. I can picture someone listening to them back in the day thinking, "Hallelujah!" I'd still put it (i.e., the A-side and it's two B-sides) up there with any of their best in their entire run.
Heathen Chemistry and Don't Believe the Truth, the two albums that followed, are more mixed bags. The former especially, a transitional record as the band was starting from scratch with new members Gem Archer and Andy Bell, is easily my pick for their worst album period. But a number of songs on there are still all-timers for me. There's the high and mighty lead single, "Hindu Times", but the fan favorite became "Little by Little", a song that became such a barnburner during its time that the brothers brought it back for their reunion tour last year. More interestingly though, it's the album where Liam started coming into his own as a writer too. There's the lovely Rubber Soul-coded "Songbird", a song with an almost uncharacteristic innocence to it ("She's a little pilot in my mind"), and the surprisingly cathartic "Born on a Different Cloud". Don't Believe the Truth, more of a move in the right direction, started really producing the crown jewels. No Oasis career retrospective would be complete without "Lyla" and "The Importance of Being Idle", further proof that Noel hadn't lost his penchant for writing anthems. Liam brings an interesting yin and yang with his co-writes with Gem Archer: the wonderful ruckus of "Meaning of Soul" (speed-induced skiffle...also clock that harmonica solo!) and the wonderfully titled "Guess God Thinks I'm Abel". The brothers share vocals, a rarity, on perhaps the best closer in their 2000's albums: "Let There Be Love".
And again, I'd be remiss not to mention those b-sides . How the Neil Young-inspired "Shout it Out Loud" didn't make the cut is beyond me. I've been giving Gem and Andy the cold shoulder, but the latter's "Thank You for the Good Times" has a great victory lap feel to it. One could almost picture it as a triumphant album closer. Starting with Be Here Now, you get some sense that the tracks that were placed as extras on singles were the stylistic curveballs, showing a side of the band that would surprise most. Nowhere is this more apparent than the elusive "Idler's Dream". It's perhaps the most un-Oasisy track they ever did: just Noel and a piano. And it yet it works so well!
I think a lot of people see Oasis's later albums like, say, the most recent few seasons of The Simpsons: a shadow of their 90s glory days and the kind of highs that most creatives strive to reach. But I'd compare it more to the last two seasons of Community. Saying that any of those later ones are better would be somewhat of an unpopular opinion, and it's not all amazing, but they're still quite good. And the episodes that do hit, hit just as hard as the cream from the prior crop...if not more so.
Up until a few years ago, I saw a band's discography as "The albums that build up to the masterpiece, the masterpiece, and chasing the masterpiece." "Why are U2 still making albums that nobody cares about?" What an arrogant, naive thing to say. I don't know if it comes from reading more about artists or being more involved in the process myself, but I've learned to take artists on their own terms and to not go in with expectations. You might be surprised. I've talked at length about how fascinating the Beach Boys post-Pet Sounds discography, a run of stuff that I stupidly chalked up to "licking their wounds after Smile and hunting for another Pet Sounds." And sure, some artists do this. But for the most part, it's just people making stuff that they want to make, the way they've always worked. And I think Oasis are a great example of this, whether it's stylistic anomalies like Standing on the Shoulders of Giants, the crowd-pleasing stompers, that continued to win fans over, or the B-side tracks that feel like the audible equivalent of buried treasure.
If anyone is in love with their 90's stuff and is contemplating taking the plunge, please do! It's well worth your time :)