Definitely Maybe begins with a statement of aspiration,
as Liam Gallagher sneers that "tonight, I'm a rock & roll star"
-- the words of a bedsit dreamer hoping he'd break out of those four walls and
find something greater. Maybe all he could muster is a fleeting moment of
stardom as he sings in front of a fleet of amps pushing out power chords, or
perhaps he'd really become a rock & roll star; all that matters is he makes
the leap. This dream echoes throughout Oasis' debut, a record which takes the
dreams of its listeners every bit as seriously as those of its creators. Both
the artist and audience desire something greater than their surroundings, and
that yearning gives Definitely Maybe a restlessness that resonates. Certainly,
Oasis aren't looking to redefine rock & roll here; they'd rather inhabit
it. They scour through the remnants of the past three decades to come up with a
quintessentially British rock & roll record, one that swaggers with the
defiance of the Rolling Stones, roars with the sneer of the Sex Pistols,
thieves from the past like the Happy Mondays, and ties it all together with a
melodicism as natural as Paul McCartney, even if Definitely Maybe never quite
sounds like the Beatles. All the Fab Four comparisons trumpeted by the brothers
Gallagher were a feint, a way to get their group considered as part of the
major leagues. Soon enough, these affirmations became a self-fulfilling
prophecy (act the way you'd like to be and soon you'll be the way you act, as
it were) but that bravado hardly diminishes the accomplishment of Definitely
Maybe. It is a furious, inspiring record, a rallying cry for the downtrodden to
rise above and seize their day but, most of all; it's a blast of potent,
incendiary rock & roll. Soon after its release, Noel Gallagher would be
hailed as the finest songwriter of his generation, an odd designation for a guy
drawn to moon/June rhymes, but his brilliance lies in his bold strokes. He
never shied away from the obvious, and his confidence in his re-appropriation
of clichés lends these bromides a new power, as do his strong, sinewy melodies
-- so powerful, it doesn't matter if they were snatched from elsewhere (as they
were on "Shakermaker" or the B-side "Fade Away"). The other
secret is of course Noel's brother, Liam, the greatest rock & roll vocalist
of his generation, a force of nature who never seems to consider either the
past or the present but rather exists in an ever-present now. He sometimes
sighs but usually sneers, shaking off any doubt and acting like the rock &
roll star Noel so wanted to be. This tension would soon rip the group apart but
here on Oasis' debut, this chemistry is an addictive energy, so Definitely
Maybe winds up a rare thing: it has the foundation of a classic album wrapped
in the energy of a band who can't conceive a future beyond the sunset.