“Six levels above me”: Noel Gallagher on the artist touched by genius
In a recent article I wrote, I referred to Oasis as the greatest “Ronseal” band of all time. For those of you outside the UK, Ronseal was a British garden paint manufacturer whose slogan was “does what it says on the tin”. Since then, their motto has been subtly injected into everyday British nomenclature as an adjective for positive simplicity. There’s no pretence, no misinformation and certainly no attempts at deception. Oasis knew what they were, celebrated it, and people loved them for it.
Oasis captured the zeitgeist in the 1990s because they had tapped into something deeply universal. Their lyrics spoke to the romantic underbelly of modern British living, while their chord progressions hung firmly on a variation of four chords, with the solo showcasing the best of the pentatonic scale. It was, in some ways, rock music 101, but it benefited from the once-in-a-generation alchemy of their band’s members.
Noel Gallagher was the assigned creative leader of the band, and I don’t think he would have any reservations about that label during their emphatic pomp. He knew the combination of those aforementioned features was like catnip to Britpop fans, and he milked it as long as he could. It wasn’t until the last decade that the brooding guitarist stepped outside the structures of his style to expand into something more experimental.
His 2017 album Who Built the Moon? was arguably the first time he felt comfortable embracing his love for artists like David Bowie and T Rex. The album saw an uncharacteristically groovy rhythm section anchoring the exploration of more shimmering pop scapes. Heck, that very same year, he helped his former nemesis Damon Albarn out with a few collaborations on Gorillaz’s album Humanz.
Essentially, over time, he stepped back from the closed-off mentality his brother led the band into and realised that the beauty of his position as a musical icon was the opportunities it afforded him. It provided him with the chance to play with his heroes. While his love for the likes of David Bowie, Marc Bolan and John Lennon has always been apparent, he missed his chance to share studio space with them. So in the case of Paul Weller, the man who laid the bricks of the path Oasis would run on, he refused to let that slip.
“He’s fucking about six levels above me,” Noel said, when asked whether his career was a template for him. “On the outside, looking in, what we do is quite similar. He was in this seminal band of the ’80s, Oasis were The Jam of the ’90s, if you like, similar fans. But honestly? He’s fucking touched by genius. I still consider myself in his presence to be a little bit shaky, and I’d hazard a guess, so does he.”
The arc of Gallagher’s creativity has been duly noted by Weller. The expansive bass lines and exploration of space, which were scarcely found in early Oasis tracks, were something Noel had the confidence to do in his solo work, particularly in the late years. This was noted by Weller in 2018. “I don’t really need to talk about what a great songwriter he is because everyone knows that,” Weller told NME in 2018. “But, for me, he’s got better. I think his songs now have got a different sort of depth to them, lyrically as well. Especially the new one. I really like the words on it. He’s got his own thing together.”
Noel has had several chances to work with Weller in the studio, and his influence has undoubtedly rubbed off. With a summer of mammoth Oasis shows coming up, I wonder what his brother will say if he plays any original material in between shows and it’s not covered in Ronseal.
