‘Definitely Maybe’: Revisiting Oasis’ ode to life at 30
No matter what anyone says, Oasis‘ debut album, Definitely Maybe, is a bonafide classic; they’ve told you as much themselves. Not only is the title a brilliant oxymoron, capturing everyday British conversations, but it also captivates the band at their most raw. Released on August 29th, 1994, by the ubiquitous record label Creation Records, the album is 51 minutes of the four lads from Manchester announcing their raucous arrival onto the British music scene.
The album would kick off the career of the band whose perennially squabbling brothers, Noel and Liam Gallagher, would go on to light up British music forevermore. Perfectly capturing the hedonistic zeitgeist of the time, the album was an immediate success and spawned four hit singles, ‘Supersonic’, ‘Shakermaker’, ‘Live Forever’, and ‘Cigarettes and Alchohol’. The LP went straight to number one on the UK Albums Chart and since has sold millions of copies worldwide.
From a modern perspective, Oasis and Definitely Maybe might be dismissed by some as cringe-worthy, “cock-rock” symbols of Britain’s now outdated “lad culture”—and in many ways, they are. However, what can’t be denied is the album’s collection of undeniable hits and its profound significance for its legion of fans—and, ironically, even its detractors. Whether you love it or loathe it, the album’s impact was, and still is, unavoidable—a cultural rarity that remains important.
The record showcases a band who arrived on the scene fully formed, and in addition to its follow-up, 1995’s (What’s the Story) Morning Glory?, it represents Oasis at their best. This was the period when we got the true Oasis before the drugs, infighting, and overblown songwriting set in. In essence, before they succumbed to their own legacy-in-the-making.
In late 1993, the band initially booked time at Monnow Valley Studio near Rockfield in Wales to record their album. They hired Dave Batchelor as the producer, someone Noel was familiar with from his days as a roadie for the Manchester indie band Inspiral Carpets. However, the sessions were largely unsuccessful, with the band feeling dissatisfied with Batchelor’s production, criticising it as “weak” and “too clean”.
This lack of an artistic connection was also felt by engineer Dave Scott, who struggled to understand what Batchelor’s creative or technical vision was. He later opined that: “I think that the lack of direction and different expectations led to an uncoordinated session with too many compromises.” Eventually, Batchelor fired Scott after two clashes during the arduous recording sessions for ‘Slide Away’. Later, he was told that the track was the only one kept from these sessions. Indeed, chaos was always a key component of the Oasis mix.
In addition to numerous personal and technical issues that plagued the sessions, they were also eye-wateringly expensive. The studio was charging £800 a day, and in addition to the fact that they were largely fruitless, this led the band to panic, fearing the unknown. Guitarist Bonehead later said: “Noel was frantically on the phone to the management, going, ‘This ain’t working.’ For it not to be happening was a bit frightening.”
This situation also reflected the intense pressure the band had placed on themselves. While grunge was rising in parallel with Britpop, Oasis felt it didn’t resonate with them, so they pulled themselves up by their bootstraps to offer a counterpoint. They had already generated organic buzz through electrifying live shows that revived the swagger of rock ‘n’ roll, but now they were carrying that momentum into the studio. This is a testament to their sincerity, vision, and earnest working-class roots—they were alone with their dream, and, to quote Pulp, it was sliding out of view.
Determination was needed to see them through. They knuckled down and made hard calls. The impasse was finally cleared, and Batchelor was ushered out the back door. To save time and money, Noel attempted to salvage the takes recorded in Wales at a host of London studios. While visiting the band in Chiswick, West London, Tim Abot of Creation remembered: “[Alan] McGee, Noel, me, and various people had a great sesh, and we listened to it over and over again. And all I could think was, ‘It ain’t got the attack.’ There was no immediacy.”
Immediacy was essential—Oasis were the band that jolted a generation awake. Even those who didn’t initially appreciate it came to realise its significance—it injected energy into British culture. If you didn’t like it, fine, step aside and find something else. That’s part of the album’s enduring legacy: it was a wake-up call. But that impact would never have materialised if the album had been delivered like a half-hearted jab, as was feared during those boozy nights in a London studio.
Come January 1994, and the band had decamped to Sawmills Studio in Cornwall. This time, they hired Mark Coyle to produce alongside Noel. They elected to record the album live as that was the only means of replicating their abrasive, visceral sound. Bonehead recalled: “That was Noel’s favourite trick: get the drums, bass, and rhythm guitar down, and then he’d cane it. ‘Less is more’ didn’t really work then.” However, the attempts proved futile, and the band were still unhappy with the results.
They knew that the chance to try and record the album for the third time was near impossible, so they needed to find a way of using the recordings they already had. In desperation, Creation employee Marcus Russell contacted engineer Owen Morris to save the sinking ship, which worked. Using Johnny Marr’s studio in Manchester, Morris turned it around.
Inspired by Phil Spector’s use of tape delay on the drums of John Lennon’s 1975 song ‘Instant Karma!’ and Tony Visconti’s production style on David Bowie’s classic album Low, he added a filtering technique he’d learnt from New Order’s Bernard Sumner, and created a drum sound that gave the album a thicker sound. This was to be the turning point. Could there ever have been a more fitting trio of influences?
Commenting on Morris’ masterstroke, John Harris noted: “The miracle was that music that had passed through so many hands sounded so dynamic: the guitar-heavy stew that Morris had inherited had been remoulded into something positively pile-driving.” Sometimes, all you need is that little bit of luck. Without Russell’s decision, there would likely have been no Oasis. To imagine British music’s landscape without them is like imagining New York without the Statue of Liberty.
It’s notable that now, with music in such a cash-strapped state, this revolutionary record would likely have been offered up in its more tepid early state. The searing vitality of Definitely Maybe is, ironically, testimony to taking your time rather than rushing towards a commercial end. Once more, this stands as definitive proof of just how steadfast Oasis were in their aim to offer the youth a fresh wind.
Opener ‘Rock ‘n’ Roll Star’ does what it says on the tin. It is an unapologetic, meat and two veg indie banger that takes as many of its cues from Marc Bolan and T-Rex as it does the Kinks. ‘Shakermaker’ is a hazy, bluesy number that exudes all of the unrelenting swagger that Oasis carried. Also, the chorus, “When you’re happy and you’re feeling fine/Then you’ll know it’s the right time”, is one of the typical examples of Liam Gallagher’s uninventive yet classic AA rhyme schemes. Other highlights on the album include ‘Columbia’, ‘Supersonic’, ‘Digsy’s Dinner’, and ‘Cigarettes and Alcohol’.
Without a doubt, the two highlights are ‘Live Forever’ and ‘Slide Away’. The former is a brilliantly British ode to living life. Allegedly, Gallagher wrote it in response to comments icon du jour Kurt Cobain of Nirvana made. Gallagher said: “At the time…it was written in the middle of grunge and all that, and I remember Nirvana had a tune called ‘I Hate Myself and Want to Die’, and I was like…’Well, I’m not fucking having that.’ As much as I fucking like him (Nirvana frontman Kurt Cobain) and all that shit, I’m not having that.”
He wryly concludes: “I can’t have people like that coming over here, on smack, fucking saying that they hate themselves and they wanna die. That’s fucking rubbish. Kids don’t need to be hearing that nonsense.”
What Gallagher achieved on ‘Live Forever’ is one of Oasis’ most enduring tunes. It builds up to an emotive crescendo with Liam screaming, “Gonna live forever,” all the while, Noel provides us with one of his most iconic guitar solos, strangely reminiscent of Peter Green. On ‘Live Forever’, Noel introduced himself as one of Britain’s foremost guitarists and songwriters, capable of producing hits that still thrive and transcend decades on.
‘Slide Away’ is not only a highlight of the album but of the band’s career. Featuring the droning bassline and Noel and Bonehead’s swirling, grinding guitars, it is one of Oasis’ best-loved singalongs that comes to an almost psychedelic reverb-drenched climax on the album version.
The chorus lyrics, whilst not “artistically” special, carry that simplistic magic that was inherent to everything good Oasis achieved: “Two of a kind/ We’ll find a way/ To do what we’ve done/ Let me be the one who shines with you/ And we can slide away/ Slide away/ Slide away”. It is one of the most nostalgic and uplifting songs the Manchester rabble ever released and rightly continues to be hailed as one of the best indie songs ever penned.
Although it’s not everyone’s cup of tea, Definitely Maybe is one of, if not the best, album Oasis ever released. It gets your blood up and makes you want to have a good time. Given the existential crisis the world currently finds itself in, Oasis’s ode to life has never been as pertinent.
