Boy, isn’t it an indication of just how far expectations have fallen in regard to Oasis that 'Lyla', the likeable but hardly earth-shaking comeback single for this, their sixth album, has surprised on-lookers simply because it isn’t crap?
These are strange times for Noel and Liam. Displaced by Pete Doherty in the stony hearts of tabloid editors; overtaken in the quotably-lippy stakes by Jose Mourinho; and more likely to find themselves gracing the pages of Heat than the NME, the terrible twosome have never skirted as close to the boundaries of cultural obsolescence as they do just now. After all, post-Shameless, they may not even be the most famous Gallaghers in Manchester.
It hardly helps matters that the Britpop period in which their reputation was forged has of late – just like the Blair government that went to extraordinary lengths to bask in its reflected glory – taken an almighty revisionist kicking.
Knebworth? Pah! Sure didn’t Robbie Williams repeat the trick? Morning Glory? It’s no Ok Computer, is it?
The blame for much of this can be laid squarely at the feet of the boys themselves. For all their Napoleonic bragging and world-conquering rhetoric, from Be Here Now on, Oasis revealed themselves to be meek, creative wallflowers – unwilling and/or unable to break free from the constrictions of cumbersome indie rock.
Much of the band’s latter-day output has had the same unfocused, blundering gait of an old boxer. ‘Who Feels Love’, ‘The Hindu Times’ and ‘Little By Little’ may all have entered the arena to fireworks and boastful claims but, once inside the ring, their glass-jaws cost them dear.
But remember what they say about creaking heavyweights: the last thing that deserts them is their punch. And, thus far, the band have always been able to rely on a wallop from one source – Liam’s voice.
The first thing to report about Don’t Believe The Truth is that he has never sounded better. He’s also never sounded quite like this before. The rasping, sulphurous Liam makes the odd cameo appearance (most notably on ‘The Meaning Of Soul’ and the Mod-tastic ‘A Bell Will Ring’) but this record isn’t in the least bit mad for it. We’re dealing with a plaintive and surprisingly soulful Oasis here and, with Noel suffering an odd crisis in confidence (the three tracks he sings – ‘Mucky Fingers’, ‘The Importance Of Being Idle’ and ‘Part Of The Queue’ can all be skipped guiltlessly), the person conducting affairs is very clearly their ever-compelling frontman.
‘Love Like A Bomb’ and ‘Guess God Thinks I’m Abel’, two of the three tracks he has written for the LP, are every bit as effortlessly up-beat and heart-sick, as Noel’s earlier work. ‘Keep The Dream Alive’, meanwhile, sees him reapply for the position of great rock hero with the kind of bravura, come-follow-me vocal performance that he’s kept moth-balled since ‘Live Forever’.
With its soft patina of acoustic guitars and subtly pastoral instrumentation (and who would have thought that the influence of Gem Archer and Andy Bell would have been so productive?), much of Don’t Believe The Truth has the feel of a late-60s burn-out record. With Liam proving equally adept at playing both Stephen Stills and Graham Nash.
It may not be the band’s long-promised classic (the three songs Noel sings and the record’s two phoned-in bookends prevent a whole-hearted endorsement); it may not even be the album that propels them back to their mid-90s commercial peak; but through its slow-burn warmth and easy company Don’t Believe The Truth could provide a much more valuable function for Oasis – it’s a record to build bridges to. So, are you willing to give them another chance?