Powerfully back to basics, the British band is once again at the top of its game.

Gallery Slideshow

Who'd have thought Oasis, the Britpop holdover that seemingly couldn't be more out of vogue, could fill Staples Center? For the matter, who'd have thought a band with such a fractious history and spotty track record would still be together at this point, let alone still visiting the States?

I don't mean to be ignorant of the recent past – it was only three years ago that these blokes pretty much packed the Hollywood Bowl – or naïve about the group's ever-growing cult appeal, as new Anglophiles coming of age every year glom on to the Gallagher brothers' work as quickly as they do that of the Beatles, or Blur. So perhaps this turnout should have been expected.

Still, could anyone, even Noel and Liam's staunchest, Ben Sherman-wearing true-believers, have suspected that now, in support of their seventh album in twice as many years, Oasis would sound stronger than ever live?

Let's back up to the first question. To be accurate, the band didn't actually fill Staples Center Thursday night, in a rousing one-off show bolstered by a superb hour of fresh-vintage rock 'n' roll from Ryan Adams & the Cardinals and a valiant acoustic performance from O.C. singer-songwriter Matt Costa, delivered to just a few hundred early birds. As was the case when Matchbox Twenty and Alanis Morissette headlined here in March, the upper decks at the arena were mostly masked off, and any open areas were only sparsely dotted with lookie-loos. Generously figure the four-hour event drew a little under 10,000 fans.

But what excitable fans! Of the '90s giants that have endured, only Pearl Jam attracts more intense devotion from people who clamor to hear new songs as much as old favorites. Increasingly their patience is being rewarded: After a rocky decade of hit-and-miss work following the international breakthrough "(What's the Story) Morning Glory?," Oasis regained its footing with 2005's "Don't Believe the Truth," a modestly scaled, back-to-basics set that the Manchester band has considerably expanded upon with this year's robust release "Dig Out Your Soul."
Restoring both the sonic boom and psychedelic swirls that defined their earliest work, the Gallaghers and their trusty mates (guitarist Gem Archer, bassist Andy Bell, newish drummer Chris Sharrock) are once again crafting monster anthems that almost require a vast space like Staples Center to be properly heard. (They also remain unashamedly derivative. The new song "Waiting for the Rapture" so obviously takes after the Doors' "Five to One" that Variety writer Steve Mirkin and I spontaneously broke into it as Noel led into its opening stomp. "At least he's stealing from Americans now," Mirkin quipped.)

What's impressive, if not unthinkable, is how well Oasis' recent music coalesces with staples like "Supersonic" and "Cigarettes and Alcohol" and "Champagne Supernova." There are twists to the bombast now, be it the fast-and-furious charge of "The Meaning of Soul" or the roiling tumble of "Falling Down" or the "Rain"-y haze of "To Be Where There's Life." None of it, however, is so far removed from the band's blueprint that Noel and Liam are left looking as if straining to fit in.
Keeping pace with modernity, after all, was their undoing at the turn of the millennium. Now they gleefully bounce through "Lyla" like it was the B-side to "Live Forever" and conjure new ballads (like Liam's wistful reflection "I'm Outta Time") that hold their own next to something as indestructible as "Wonderwall." (Click here for a complete set list.)

Apart from a pair of mid-career gems (Liam's fleeting "Songbird," Noel's philosophical "The Masterplan") reminding of iffy efforts not many people bought, it's as if the intervening years and albums never happened. At least you get the sense the Gallaghers wish they hadn't. Down front early in the performance there was a commotion, with Liam instructing security to escort someone out. Noel later explained, and I couldn't tell you if he was joking or not: "That guy got thrown out for asking for tracks from 'Be Here Now' (the band's self-maligned 1997 disc). That'll teach him. We don't do requests."

No, they pretty much offer the same sort of set they always have: roughly 20 songs, a third of it spotlighting Noel instead of his brother (loved his softer acoustic version of "Don't Look Back in Anger"), the bulk of it carried by Liam's inexplicably powerful sneer (he hasn't sung so heartily in at least a decade), all of it wrapped up with a knowing homage, a cover of "I Am the Walrus."
It's now curiously comforting to encounter. In many ways, Oasis is as meat-and-potatoes as rock gets anymore – maybe that's why its music still tastes so rich. "We've been fantastic," Liam declared at the conclusion. For a change, he had reason to brag: Whether anyone but ex-pats and wannabe Brits cares anymore, it's undeniable Oasis is at the top of its game again.

Ditto Ryan Adams, who has spent the latter half of this decade honing his craft with a backing band, the Cardinals, that more and more resembles his Crazy Horse. Not that they get so fuzzed-out and heavy, though even in a set devoted primarily to songs from their fifth album together, "Cardinology," they can prove capable of it. It's more that the Cardinals root the mercurial Adams in accessibility; their collaboration leads him to self-edit and refine, still permitting room to flourish yet forcing more focus.

Prolific as ever, he's now achieving a high level of consistency, penning sublime, classically molded winner after winner fusing all facets of his artistry – the swagger of "Rock N Roll," the polish of "Gold," the sumptuousness of "Cold Roses," the alt-country heartbreak that's been coursing through his work all along. Thursday night, in a potent performance, he drew from all of that, making warm like the Band on the early solo staple "Come Pick Me Up," roaming confused through the identity crisis of "Off Broadway" and the heartache of "Fix It," breezing into "When the Stars Go Blue" and "Two," eventually pouncing with the cyclical melody of "Magick."

Through it all, in his tight-fitting suit-and-tie attire, he unfurled sly solos and attacked the microphone, leaning into it with a fierceness that belied his soft-spoken shyness between songs. Finally, the enfant terrible seems to have been humbled – and his music is all the better for it.

By BEN WENER

via L4e / source Orange County Register

Share Post

[+] 0 comments

For Breaking News visit our flagship site Live4ever Media

Make sure to join the world's largest Oasis Community

Pretty Green - mens clothing from Liam Gallagher

Visit our extensive news archives on the left sidebar for more!