20 Years of Oasis Fandom
I can actually track down my fandom of Oasis to the day: March 18, 1996.
From the age of six, I was obsessed with The Beatles. It was the perfect time to be a Beatlemanic; it was around the time of the Anthology documentary and albums. (Remember the “A-Beatle-C” promos ABC played back then?)
My parents, elated with the fact that I was into the Beatles rather than Biggie or Tupac, allowed me to get the album the day it came out—twenty years ago today.
A friend of mine at the time, Evan, came over to my place to listen to it with me. As I was trying to preen the plastic covering from the double CD, he said that there was this band his brother liked that he thought I might like as well. I was wary, but he put this black CD with white lettering into my CD player, turned to track four, and pressed play.
The song was “Don’t Look Back in Anger,” the album was (What’s the Story) Morning Glory, and the band was Oasis.
As soon as I heard the “Imagine” intro, I was hooked… and I haven't looked back since.
When Evan later brought over one of his brother’s EPs, I was introduced to the concept of b-sides. Condemned to ‘one hit wonder’ status in America since “Wonderwall,” I was obsessed with hearing every single morsel the brothers Gallagher released; today, I own nearly every single, EP, and album Oasis has ever officially released worldwide. (In a pre-internet world, this was quite the task—it was rare to find an Oasis single or EP in a Tower Records, Virgin Megastore, or HMV, and when you did, they were priced anywhere from $8-17 in the imports section. Clearly, The Masterplan wasn't enough to satiate my appetite.)
Oasis were my Beatles. They were the biggest band in the world, even if I happened to live in the one country that never quite bought in. Their personalities were seen as a detriment to many, but seeing these guys swagger and talk shit about everything and everybody inspired the perennially uncool me to see that you could at least fake it until you make it. They made music fun in a time when alt rock was depressing and rap was in the middle of a feud that would end in tragic bloodshed.
Their music became the soundtrack of my life. My Oasis fandom even carried into sports, having become a Manchester City fan when I started getting into soccer in the early 2000s. (Hell, my first introduction to Man City was There… and Then, Oasis’ concert video of their sold-out concerts at Maine Road in 1996.) Their songs, loud, brash anthems drenched in overdrive, which left an indelible mark on my songwriting and guitar playing. They taught me to never underestimate the power of a great hook, and even the simplest of songs can do the job—but if it doesn’t sound good alone on an acoustic guitar, go back to the drawing board.
I can’t believe it’s been twenty years. So much has changed since 1996, from eight to 28. Noel is inching towards 50, and I towards 30. I grew up, graduated high school and college, and, most likely in part thanks to them, now work for a kickass music website. He quit the band in 2009, went solo, and became an elder statesman of rock. (Still outspoken as ever, of course.) And I can't wait to see what's in store for the next twenty years.
