Oasis
Don't Believe The Truth

THE REVIEW

John Lennon, make room. When the time comes, Noel Gallagher will sit at your right, after having definitively (perhaps) established the final link between two eras and two eternal glories of rock. This "Don't Believe The Truth" marks the return of the Manchester band after three years of silence following the solid "Heathen Chemistry", which rekindled old fans who grew up with the riff of "Supersonic" and attracted new ones who only recently discovered Oasis for obvious generational reasons.

"Don't Believe The Truth" already boasts something epic from its title and hypothetically links to the early great records of the English group, both in terms of the graphic design (returning to the historical logo, a non-coincidental detail) and especially in terms of the songs, most of which have already become classics just days after the album's release. Because this is a MILESTONE, people, a MILESTONE. A record destined for a vast audience and thus carrying an educational, formative, and I dare say therapeutic character. This is the rock of 2005, just as "Definitely Maybe" was in 1994, despite being an album made with few resources and a demo tape-like attitude.

After the cocaine-fueled grandeur of "Be Here Now", the profound metropolitan psychedelia of "Standing On The Shoulder Of Giants", and the rock ballads of "Heathen Chemistry", Noel Gallagher (a genius) likely felt the need for a return to no-frills rock, setting aside the inclination for "anthems" (an element of contention for early fans) and focusing on more sophisticated arrangements that are no less direct for being so, creating a kind of "capsule" for his band that makes them absolutely alien and distinct from the entire current music scene.
Oasis are still 1969: proof is in the single "Lyla", which will finally bring some healthy boogie rock à la Rolling Stones to the empty heads of TRL and Top Of The Pops. But the surprising thing is that the rest of the album is absolutely of a different caliber, and it's difficult to extract potential hits for the general public who still remember the legendary chord progression of "Wonderwall".

The beginning of this masterpiece is far from reassuring: "Turn Up The Sun" (written by Andy Bell) starts with a dramatic arpeggio that unfolds into a menacing and apocalyptic path, then fades into another intimate arpeggio that underscores the tension of the initial one... an edge-of-your-seat start, perhaps the best opening track in rock history. "Mucky Fingers" by Noel then bursts in, a hybrid between "Waiting For The Man", "Needle In The Camel's Eye", Jesus & Mary Chain, and Bob Dylan that leaves the listener stunned under a mountain of feedback, with Gem's harmonica taking center stage. 2-0, damn it. After "Lyla" comes "Love Is Like A Bomb" by Liam, which is the ideal follow-up to the beautiful "Songbird", to be imagined in a hypothetical film à la "Magical Mistery Tour" where Liam skips on a hill as McCartney did to the notes of "Fool On The Hill".
But truth be told (if you want to believe it), this is the "summer" album of the Oasis... not the kind of summer with Latin American hits and Copacabana beaches, but a city summer, or a summer present in the minds of anyone who imagines it different from the illusory mirages peddled by the media and our society. It's a desert summer, as it seems Noel preaches in the desert (of foolishness) when, guitar in hand with faithful Gem behind him, he impersonates Don Quixote in the martial "The Importance Of Being Idle", relying on Ray Davies' word, or when in "Part Of The Queue" (inspired by "Love Will Come Through" by Travis), he expresses a resigned cry of pain in the face of self-acceptance that leads man to a serene but mediocre anonymity.
The lyrics in particular are another point of merit: no more sterile invites to optimism at all costs (as happened in the beautiful times of "Acquiesce"), but an acquired awareness of the end of adolescence, a new way of facing the bitter reality of the world and the consequent refusal to identify with it (hence the album title).
Returning to the music, there is two-minute rock'n'roll with "The Meaning Of Soul" (a better figure would have been made with the b-side of "Lyla", "Eyeball Tickler"), which owes something to the not-yet-bourgeois Hives, but the two hidden gems of the album come from Liam, finally a composer who meets expectations in "Guess God Thinks I'm Abel", where "Our Kid's" voice moves between the acoustic guitars like a naked child in Eden, declaring how God appeared asking if he was Abel... the Barrett-like coda of the piece demonstrates that the "psychedelic" vein of the album is entirely Liam's credit, who often seems to belong and sing from another, highly personal dimension.
The second gem I was mentioning is the sunny "Keep The Dream Alive", a great summer song echoing the glorious Teenage Fanclub of "Bandwagonesque" and the unforgettable Dodgy of "Homegrown", where Zak Starkey, the artful drummer son (playing exactly like his father, with little snare but metronomic precision), who replaced Alan White, gives his best performance.
After such a feast, "A Bell Will Ring" takes everything to a more "human" level with honest pop rock but without particular peaks (a horizontal track, Stone Roses style), before the languid closure of "Let There Be Love", a ballad where the brothers' voices alternate amidst the echoes of "Strawberry Fields Forever" and Lennon's 70s ballads. A nostalgic ending that seems to whisper a goodbye to the fans, promising an even better next album (there would still be 40 tracks shelved during the sessions), but I believe a pact with the devil would be needed to have ten more albums of this value. The hidden track "I Can See It Now", a four-minute-plus chromatic/musical delirium, seems to be the prelude to a miracle.

The miracle is that Oasis were dead and buried, and after three albums, they have risen again. Celebrate Easter and don't be like Doubting Thomas: don't believe the truth.