Why What Oasis Did In The '90s Cannot Be Repeated

Nowadays, the spirit of Oasis is upheld by middle-aged men trying to bring back their glory days of the '90s, donning Parkas, desert boots, sideburns and questionable haircuts.

Younger generations don't necessarily understand the whole concept of Oasis, or the people who model themselves on the Gallagher brothers, but that's simply because there's not one musician around who's relatable enough to copy. That, and because life seems to be lived via a Topman/Topshop catalogue.

The fact of the matter is that younger people will in no way be able to experience what Oasis did back in the mid-to-late 1990s, because it's pretty much impossible to replicate.

"In the times in which we live, it would be unrepeatable," Noel Gallagher can be heard saying during the recently released Supersonic film. He's of course referring to the astronomical change the music industry has undergone since his band's debut release in 1994. Tapes are no longer a thing, CDs are never used, listening to the radio is only acceptable if you're a labourer, and illegally downloading music is easier than ever.

Credit: Mint Pictures

Back then, if you wanted to 'download' something, you'd have to set up your own tape recorder to nab a song off the radio, trying to guess where you should shut it off so as to not record the annoying voice of some eccentric bellend announcing the name of the tune. Because that was such a task, and nothing compared to torrents, it wasn't worth it. People saved up their pennies, headed down to HMV or the local record store, and bought EPs, LPs, CDs, tapes, singles, vinyls and all the rest of it.

After purchasing whatever it was that could be played on your dad's second-hand stereo, complete with dust and a skipping noise 20 seconds into any song, you'd get your mates round, turn it up loud, and sit around discussing how brilliant certain things were.

It was the fans who fuelled the success of bands like Oasis. Word of mouth was an actual thing back then, with a vocal description of a gig enticing you into blagging your way into venues, rather than just watching a video that's been uploaded to Facebook. If someone told you how great something was down the pub, you'd then grab your mates and go yourself so you could then explain to someone else how great it was. They'd then go, and the media would pick up the hype. It would spread into living rooms, where it would take the country by storm, and, if the band were lucky, would cross the Atlantic.

The reason Noel Gallagher, his younger brother, Liam, and three of their mates made such a monumental impact on the industry comes in many different forms. They had the songs, they had the swagger and they had the attitude. But they were just like you and me.

Five lads, riding a wave of success, drinking lager, wearing similar clothes and from a background people could relate with. When you see people who have walked the same walk of life as you, it's easy for you to identify yourself in their music. If every Tom, Dick and Harry from prestigious arts, music or theatre colleges drowns the charts in massive amounts of wining acoustic songs, processed beats from a Mac book pro, and raps about champagne, fast cars and super models, who can relate to that?

Better yet, those five lads from Manchester weren't up for putting on an act for the media's cameras. They turned up, were themselves and basically said: "This is us, fucking 'ave it".

"[Music] has now become a product," Mat Whitecross, the creator of Supersonic, said. "It has become a lifestyle thing. But it was life and death when we were growing up. Kids today might still feel like music is everything, but they're probably less tribal. They listen to songs and not artists. Certainly songs rather than albums. In the old days if you were into this band, that was it."

What constitutes as being a 'fan' of an artist these days is clicking through a YouTube link and listening to a single. Album tracks rarely matter to the majority. When YouTube wasn't a thing, full albums were listened to because it wasn't worth dragging through to see if the chorus was something you liked, nor was it worth skipping something because fast-forwarding and rewinding a tape was a right ball ache.

"This the new style with the fresh type of flow/ Wrist icicle, ride dick bicycle/ Come true yo, get you this type of blow/ If you wanna Minaj I got a tricycle," is another set of lyrics by one of the leading lights in this generation's Hip Hop, Nicki Minaj. And this is great, too, if you're high off your tits on a beach in Jamaica, because that's the only time you can ever answer the question: "What does 'wrist icicle ride dick bicycle' actually mean?".

Obviously, different bands mean different things to different people. But when it comes to Oasis it's so hard to sum up just how much of a bang they made in not only music, but society and communities. There's not been a band since to do the same, with the mid-2000s Indie resurgence now just a faint, unwanted memory, with only the likes of the Arctic Monkeys and Kasabian still worth listening to.

During a time when work was very hard to get in England, following Margaret Thatcher's Tory reign over the country, which was followed by John Major, it was refreshing to hear someone say: "Is it worth the aggravation to find yourself a job when there's nothing worth working for?/ It's a crazy situation but all I need is cigarettes and alcohol." They were basically saying, 'yeah, mate, life's shite, but make the most of it' without being cliche.

The fact that after the Gallaghers didn't start wearing bright white jeans, gold studded jackets, diamond encrusted shoes and ride horses everywhere after they stormed up the charts and became millionaires, says a lot. They might have spent a lot on partying, but when you've lived in poverty for most your life, it's what we'd all do. Now, though, it's more of a case of someone getting their first pay cheque but still thinking the world owes them everything, as they spend £2,000 on a hat.

Supersonic is most likely the closest anyone will get to being able to experience the madness of Oasis in the '90s, during the lead up to their record-breaking gigs at Knebworth.

Shamefully, it's something that's probably never going to happen again. Even an Oasis reunion couldn't reach their original heights.

Featured image credit: OasisVEVO

Topics: Oasis

Mark McGowan

Mark is a journalist at LADbible, who joined in 2015 after a year as a freelance writer. In the past he blogged for independent football fan channel Redmen TV, after graduating from Staffordshire University with degrees in journalism and English literature. He has worked on campaigns such as UOKM8? and IIOC.