Pix by Sarah Gilpin Photography JOHN BUTLER“It’s about escaping,” said Noel Gallagher in 1994, speaking ahead of the release of Oasis‘ debut record Definitely Maybe.
But really, it’s about so much more than that.
One of the defining cultural documents of the ’90s, the Manchester quintet’s ferociously optimistic and thrillingly self-possessed debut album is a snapshot of what it means to be young, fearless and fiercely convinced of one’s own capacity to transcend the mundane and mediocre. Last summer, as the reunited Gallagher brothers reclaimed their mantle as The People’s Champions on the most euphoric tour of the 21st century to date, their 23-song setlist featured no fewer than six selections from the record, their swagger and snap utterly undiminished.
Written in the wake of the Conservative party securing a fourth consecutive general election victory in the UK, at its core Definitely Maybe is an album about working class pride, anger, ambition and defiance.
Though it was rarely identified as such upon its release, being bracketed alongside inferior Britpop albums with which it shared precious little DNA – “I’d hear Blur or Pulp or Suede on the radio and think, Fuck these idiots” Noel Gallagher admitted in 2023 – it’s a punk rock album at heart, a collection of dole queue anthems which thrust two upraised fingers in the faces of a firmly entrenched establishment doing its level best to break the spirit and solidarity of working class communities from Burnage to Belfast. And as such, it’s the most fearless collection of attitudinal rock n’ roll to emerge from Britain since the Sex Pistols’ incendiary debut Never Mind The Bollocks. In fact, in a 2023 interview with UK music magazine Mojo, Noel Gallagher, who wrote every song on the record, explicitly linked the two albums, boldly describing Definitely Maybe as “the last great punk album.”
“We were a punk band with Beatles melodies,” Gallagher stated. “We had no effects, barely any equipment, just loads of attitude, 12 cans of Red Stripe and ambition. If you listen to that and Never Mind The Bollocks, they’re quite similar. That album was about the angst of being a teenager in 1977. Fast forward to 1994 and Definitely Maybe is about the glory of being a teenager. It’s being down the park with a ghetto blaster distilled… There’s no bullshit on it. It’s an honest snapshot of working-class lads trying to make it. It’s about shagging birds, taking drugs, drinking and the glory of all of that.”
From its unapologetically nicked opening T. Rex riff, Definitely Maybe is Oasis’ own great rock ‘n’ roll swindle, an album which shamelessly pilfers and re-appropriates some of the most familiar riffs, rhythms and themes from rock n’ roll history while looking the listener square in the eyes and asking ‘So. Fucking. What?’
“Look at you now, you’re all in my hands tonight” sneers the then 21-year-old Liam Gallagher at the end of the strutting Rock ‘n’ Roll Star, a self-fulfilling prophecy the younger Gallagher brother later quite correctly identified as “the most arrogant song ever”.
Even the cocksure Gallagher boys would concede that Definitely Maybe is not a flawless collection… though if ‘The Chief’ had swapped out Digsy’s Dinner and Married With Children for contemporaneous B-sides Fade Away and Half The World Away it’d be as close to perfection as makes no difference.
As ubiquitous as pub jukebox mainstays Shakermaker and Supersonic might still be, their vitality and verve is wholly undiminished by over-familiarity, while Gallagher junior’s stretched vowels on the opening lines of Cigarettes & Alcohol remain an undeniable rock ‘n’ roll moment.
With its rallying call to the “outcast” and the “underclass”, the Stooges-inspired Bring It On Down, dusted down and sounding immense on the Live ’25 tour, is the album’s most overtly punk (and political) four minutes. Slide Away consists purely of choruses, each more uplifting than its predecessor, while the six minute Columbia, with its roots in Acid House jams and Ecstasy-fuelled mischief-making, is a blissful tangle of over-driven guitars and wide-eyed euphoria.
Best of all though is Live Forever, arguably Noel Gallagher’s defining song. Written as a response to (erroneous) ‘inkie’ music paper reports that Kurt Cobain was considering naming Nirvana’s third album I Hate Myself And I Want To Die, it’s the Oasis credo writ large, a surge of ‘Fuck you’ positivity and bullish self-belief standing as a grand secular hymn for the dreamers and schemers. Critics have often sneered at Oasis’ nursery rhyme lyrics, but Gallagher – like his nemesis Cobain – intuitively understood that there’s a beauty in simplicity, and Live Forever remains one of his most pure, perfect compositions.
On September 4, 1994, Definitely Maybe debuted at Number 1 on the UK album charts. That evening, Oasis played Belfast for the first time, receiving the news of their triumph as they sat backstage in the Limelight venue’s tiny dressing room. This writer was present that night, and recalls the Manchester band being greeted with an ovation which far exceeded the customary greeting for visiting bands, a reception which spoke of a shared belief that their chart success was a victory for ‘us’ over ‘them’. Even at their most cocaine-bloated and indulgent, Oasis managed to retain that sense of connection, as is being emphatically demonstrated in every sold-out stadium they visit this summer.
It’s easy to see why Definitely Maybe is connecting with a new influx of Gen Z fans. It’s a record about possibility, and hope, and growing up without giving in, whatever shit is thrown at you. Only Noel and Liam truly know how long Oasis’ second act will last, but their first album will forever remain an impossibly thrilling declaration of independence and intent.