Oasis ceased to be arrogant young gunslingers somewhere around the time of their third album – fine, nothing lives forever. In fact, much of their later material (singles especially) shows an advancing maturity other bands could do well to mimic. Certainly not exciting, but they know their strengths.
So this 192-page collection from 1994/95 comes at an odd time. They’re everywhere at the moment, doing press junkets and spouting soundbites to remain in the public eye, despite making an album that, at best, can be described as only a bit like Definitely Maybe.
Slattery gets all-area access to deftly snap five Mancunians drinking, sitting in hotels, on coaches, waiting backstage and wearing massively oversized clothes. It’s so masculine it practically smells of musk, and there’s very little on offer that hasn’t been hinted at before. Even the unseen stuff is dull, as this is Oasis pre-stylists and pre-coke psychosis (but, it has to be said, pre-critical pannings) in featureless rooms, in monochrome.
It’s hard to think who might pore over a book like this – even Noel Gallagher in his introduction admits he can’t remember any of it. Even though it’s rarely said about these “personalities”, you’re better off leaving the music to speak for itself.