What the Oasis reunion means for fans is experiencing songs that, depending on your generation, were never heard live. Stop the Clocks and the studio albums preceding it are indicators not of in-house class but of communal overlap. It’s the occasion and purpose these songs serve in a public space, rather than a private room, which works. Lyrics assimilated through advertisements, passive listening on public transport, and the inability to avoid the Gallagher brothers are what keep the band going. Not even The Beatles had an impact like that, but to have such groundbreaking form, you need a sound simple enough to remember. That is what Oasis offers, and the Stop the Clocks compilation is a ninety-minute marathon of the so-called best songs. It’s a less energetic experience. Knebworth 1996 is an enjoyable listen because the band are interacting in the moment. What ruins Oasis is the studio polish.
They’re a band that needs no editing or tightness. To hear both on Stop the Clocks is, as their studio albums remain, disappointing. At least it features some of those songs which do serve the listener well alone. Don’t Look Back in Anger remains one of the stronger songs in Oasis’ discography. The Noel Gallagher-led piece is tucked away at the end of the compilation. His electric guitar work and straight-to-the-point message are nice enough. But it still leaves a lot to be desired. Crowd pleasers like Live Forever and Slide Away feature too, but that’s where the instrumental decline and similarity from song to song shine a light on the paper-thin meaning behind these tracks. Much of Oasis and the communal spirit which keeps the band on their sell-out tour is the meaning listeners project onto the song. It is not the relatability Oasis has, but a broad enough lyrical adaptation that just about any scenario from life, good or ill, can fit into the space left on the likes of Wonderwall and The Masterplan.
A few surprise inclusions come on Stop the Clocks. The Importance of Being Idle is a forgettable song but a standout from the later days of the band’s discography while Half the World Away is a decent addition. The trouble here is that the songs which work without the need for communal listening experiences are devoid of Liam Gallagher’s influence. His work as a frontman comes to life when on stage, but there is no stage when listening at home. All there is for Stop the Clocks, and the studio albums Oasis would release on their initial run, is a listener and the lyrics. The writing is nothing incredible, but serviceable to the simple instrumental work which no doubt booms around arenas when performed live. It’s a trade-off the band were willing to make, though it serves very little purpose to the deeper meaning to be grasped by listening to these songs.
Much of them, like Morning Glory and Champagne Supernova are sluggish, repetitive and dull adaptations of rock and roll songs that came before them. “Slowly walking down the hall / Faster than a cannonball” remains, with or without context, one of the worst lyrics of the 1990s. But it’s the experience of hearing it, at a club or a show, which unites people. It’s easy to learn these songs because there’s little to them. Oasis rather smartly banked on people projecting their own problems on these songs, and thus tying them to the track forever. There are better songs to lose yourself in, greater bands still taking to the stage, but few, if any, are ever going to capture the global communal feeling. It’s a cornerstone of music, though Stop the Clocks highlights this by leaving it out.
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