And he'd laugh and I would hate myself for loving this fucking cliche of a band.
For me, Oasis was hope. They demonstrated to me that talent could be an afterthought and if you were willing to commit to
I bought (What's the Story) Morning Glory (already owned Definitely Maybe) just before shipping off to Germany from whence I would then travel into Bosnia. I needed a soundtrack for the adventure and a modestly talented band with a hedonistic frontman seemed like the sensible choice.
Morning Glory was the soundtrack of that deployment.
Debauched nights, love making on abandoned WWII runways, a Hungarian redhead, ogling pretty girls with a Russian soldier while smoking horrible rusky cigarettes, playing guitar while drinking shitty near-beer and smoking real Cuban cigars. Oasis takes me back to all of it and I smile.
I couldn't really tell either of the two records apart, but that didn't matter. It was like one, great album of cool covers. That's what made Oasis so comfortable to me: they sounded just like something I already knew and loved.
A few years later I would be out of the military and home in California buying their two follow-ups to Morning Glory. I kept having to check to make sure the right disc was in the player. Nope, it's not Morning Glory, it just sounds like it.
I ended up giving away Be Here Now and Standing On the Shoulders of Giants.
Aside - I always thought Standing On the Shoulders title was either a clever bit of cuntery or a testament to their fucking oblivion considering how they treated once massive bands like INXS.
After that I gave up on them. They were like an old party buddy that never grew up, never got interesting and always looks back instead of forward.