Getting High

by Paolo Hewitt

  ‘Imagine having to put those fuckers up,’ Noel said, craning his neck.

  ‘Well,’ Hugh the sound engineer noted, ‘if The Inspiral Carpets had made it that would have been your job, Noel.’

  ‘Like fuck,’ he replied.

  A few minutes later the rest of Oasis showed up and Noel gave them their scooters, handing them over like he would a cigarette. The band were delighted. They gleefully leapt upon them, revving them up and then careering round the backstage area, swerving cars and people like gleefully demented Mods on speed.

  Finally, they parked up and Liam came out into the main hall and looked around in wonderment at the huge hall his vocals would resound around that night.

  ‘I was fucked at that Brussels gig,’ he reveals. ‘Last number and my voice went. Just threw the mike away and hit about ten fans. But this,’ he said, gazing around the hall, ‘fucking, mad for it. I’m going to come on that stage and just say, “Come On!”’

  A couple of minutes later Oasis ran a soundcheck. They played ‘Hello’ and then ‘Acquiesce’. Then Noel stopped and pointed to his mike and Jason came on to fix it. As he did so, Noel strummed the chords to ‘Hung Up’.

  Liam then appeared on stage. He stood by the mike and as the band remained quiet, he sang an acappella version of ‘Shakermaker’, dispelling any doubts that the Brussels gig might have instilled about his voice.

  The band started up ‘Champagne Supernova’, but this time it was Liam’s mike that failed. Frustrated, he threw his tambourine away and moved away to sit and sulk on the drum riser.

  A roadie ran on-stage and fixed it as the band continued playing ‘Supernova’.

  Liam then went back to the mike. As Oasis finished the song, the string section started to gather on the riser high above them. To soundcheck them the band would have to stop playing. So they left the stage and hopped on their scooters. Then they drove out of the venue.

  Already, there was a huge number of fans congregating outside and as the five scootermen of Oasis roared towards them, the surprised crowd started cheering them.

  ‘Sausages for sale,’ Liam inexplicably shouted at as he passed by.

  ‘Afternoon,’ Noel said.

  ‘These are fucking top,’ Liam said as he pulled up by the band’s dressing-rooms, two big caravans stacked with beer, bottles of Jack Daniels and the usual assortment of crisps, sandwiches and soft drinks.

  ‘We should take them on tour,’ he continued, ‘get a trailer thing to follow us around. Take two of them with us.’ ‘Take only two,’ his brother ruefully pointed out, ‘and we’ll be fighting like fuck over them.’

  With the string section now ready, the band returned to the stage to play ‘Whatever’. When they finished, Noel shouted to Hugh, ‘How did that sound? Could you hear the strings?’

  ‘Just about,’ he replied doubtfully.

  ‘That’s all right then,’ Noel said. Then he caught himself and turned to the players. ‘Sorry about that. Didn’t mean it like that.’ The five players smiled, trying not to look too bothered by the casualness of the insult.

  They play ‘Whatever’, and Liam jumps off the stage to watch from the middle of the floor.

  When they end, he shouts to Noel, ‘Strings sound wrong.’

  ‘Yeah?’ Noel says, taking off his guitar.

  ‘They do,’ Liam insists.

  ‘Sound all right to me,’ Noel states. Then he is handed an acoustic guitar, sits on a stool and plays ‘Wonderwall’. Liam kisses his teeth in frustration and walks off.

  Halfway through ‘Wonderwall’ Noel stops and asks, ‘Is there an effect on this, Jacko?’

  Jacko confirms there is.

  ‘Fucking typical,’ Noel says. ‘You ask for an effect and can’t get it. When you don’t want it, like right now, you get it. Take it off for fuck’s sake. I sound like Syd Barrett.’

  Backstage, as Noel’s voice fills the arena with the words ‘Maybe, you’re going to be the one that saves me’, the boys, except for Guigsy, clamber back on to the scooters and drive around. Guigsy meanwhile starts expertly juggling with a football.

  The scooter boys pull up by a van whose radio is giving out that day’s football results.

  Liam clicks his fingers in triumph. Manchester City have beaten Bolton Wanderers. No doubt about it, this is going to be a perfect day.

  Here is the news.

  ‘They may have the capacity to backfire at will and possess the on-stage demeanour of a group permanently caught in the rigor mortis of a soundcheck, but Earls Court, proved among other things, Oasis have got the trust and the belief of the nation in their hands like no other group in the country.’

  Paul Moody, New Musical Express.

  ‘They began by churning up “The Swamp Song”. Next “Acquiesce”. Who else would start Britain’s biggest-ever shows with two B-sides?’

  Nicholas Barber, Independent On Sunday.

  ‘We file out, touched by something sublime. It’s like a world-class gig from antiquity... The kids outside are of one voice. “They kicked shit out of Blur’s Mile End!” ventures a sweaty youth with a wide grin. “I was at Spike Island and tonight was better.” argues another.’

  Ian Harrison, Select.

  ‘Because if Oasis are “just” about reminding people why they fell in love with rock ‘n’ roll in the first place, they do their job better than anyone for twenty years... When Liam goes walkabout behind a wall of yellow T-shirt-clad bouncers during a cover of “I Am The Walrus” to shake hands with the kids at the front of the stage, he really does look like a man who could topple governments.’

  Paul Lester, Melody Maker.

  ‘But in the end it all comes down to three things: tunes, tunes and tunes, and Oasis have them coming out of their ears.’

  David Cheal, Daily Telegraph.

  ‘Gig Of The Year Potential: Extremely high. Even hardened Oasis-haters were heard to mumble reluctant sentences about how fantastic it all was.’

  John Harris, Raw magazine.

  ‘Parts of West London have just suffered an earthquake – thanks to the rock group Oasis. Candlesticks rattled, chandeliers swung and buildings wobbled, according to dozens of reports received at Scotland yard from Fulham, Kensington and Chelsea... There are about 300 earthquakes a year in Britain. This is the second believed to have been caused by a concert.’

  Geraint Smith, Evening Standard.

  Liam Gallagher and the band photographer Jill Furmanovsky stand in Earls Court Arena watching the huge screens either side of the stage replay the concert from the night before. Today, Liam wears a woollen hat, a leather fur-collared jacket and jeans that stretch past his ankles and part hide his trainers. He is slightly unshaven.

  ‘I didn’t go to that party last night,’ he reveals. ‘Couldn’t risk my voice. But I’m fucking having it tonight.’

  Much to Meg’s chagrin, none of the band had gone to the party except Noel. He walked in, walked around and was home within the hour.

  ‘Do you ever get nervous?’ Jill enquires, as the screen now features a close-up of the singer.

  Liam looks at her with a knowing smile. ‘Nah,’ he says, ‘You front it, don’t you? Don’t get nervous. You get wound up and then you give it front.’

  ‘Did you see Bono after the show?’

  ‘Yeah, mad cunt. He reminds me of me dad. Same height, same face only when he was younger. I told Bono that. He said, “I am your dad.” I said, “No, you’re not.” He said, “I am your dad and I am your son.” Mad cunt. He keeps giving us presents. First one was a cactus.’

  ‘A cactus?’

  ‘Oasis. Desert,’ Liam explains. ‘We were on tour in America and he sent us this huge cactus. Then he gave us these rings. Last night, he said, “I’ve got a present for you.” I said, “Well, give us a Rolls-Royce, you cunt.” What did you think of the show, like?’

  ‘Really good, but I wish you’d sing “Wonderwall”.’

  ‘Everyone says that,’ Liam wistfully noted. ‘I know it’d be t
op but Our Kid won’t let me, the cunt. He wants his moment of glory. Here, John Squire is coming tonight.’

  ‘I saw Paul Simonon here last night,’ Jill noted.

  ‘Yeah, I’ve met him before. He’s cool.’

  ‘He’s been painting for the last eight years.’

  ‘Mad, isn’t it? Go from The Clash to painting. I’d like to do that.

  I can draw a bit myself. Did a top peacock once. All the bits and everything. It was good.’

  The screen now shows the band leaving the stage, waving to the audience. Liam stares at himself on a screen that is twenty feet high and forty foot across, raises his arms in the air, stretches his body and says, ‘I’m off for a beer. See ya.’

  As he walks towards the exit, Jill looks at him, her face an expression of love, and says, ‘I do like him. He’s such a sweet boy.’

  Later, Noel sits on his scooter and is interviewed by MTV. It is the usual thing and he gives no surprising answers. Once again, he never directly looks at his interviewer for more than five seconds, his eyes dart everywhere as if to say, everyone’s got something to hide except me and my guitar.

  Then he goes into his dressing-room and an hour later walks out on-stage with Oasis to deliver their best performance at Earls Court. For the finale The Bootleg Beatles joined them.

  ‘I Am The Walrus’.

  Afterwards in the dressing-room, Noel said, ‘When we were doing, “Walrus”, I looked up and just for a minute, I was at a microphone with George Harrison in front of 20,000 people.’ It takes a lot to drag it out of him but that beatific smile creased his mouth at the memory.

  Later, at the party, the band scattered to the comers. Liam sat with Alan McGee singing old unrecorded Oasis songs into the Scotsman’s ear. McGee later said, ‘It’s something to tell your grandchildren, isn’t it? Liam Gallagher sang me songs at the party.’

  Noel walked around looking far more comfortable. There were far less celebrities here, many more of his friends.

  Alan White and Bonehead got extremely drunk and abused the dancefloor and the DJs. Guigsy rolled himself a massive spliff and talked football to those who would listen.

  That night, no doubt about it, Oasis were the tightest and the happiest band in the land. Nothing was gonna change their world.

  The day after Earls Court, Noel Gallagher staggered into Capital Radio after staying up all night and fumbled his way through an interview.

  Asked about the success of Robson and Jerome, he sneered, ‘Robson and Jerome, more like Robson and Go Home.’ He was still buzzing off the Ecstasy and cocaine he had ingested the night before.

  The following morning he and Liam attended the Q Awards held at the Park Lane Hotel. Oasis had won the award for Best Live Act. Ronnie Wood of The Rolling Stones presented them with their prize and asked them what they were doing later.

  ‘We’re off to Paris now, for a gig,’ Noel told him.

  ‘Really? Fuck it, I’ll give Keith a bell and we’ll come over.’ Then he staggered off and was never seen again. Noel went back to his table wondering how Blur’s The Great Escape had won the Best Album award.

  Later that day, Oasis travelled to Paris to play to 8,000 people. It was an impressive number. France is considered the hardest European country to succeed in. It’s not unusual to release a record there and then wait a year for it to chart. In 365 days, Oasis had made the kind of progress which takes other bands years to gain.

  At soundcheck time in the big hall, still buzzing after Earl’s Court, Oasis looked around and said, ‘Fucking hell, it’s like a club gig.’

  The day after, Marcus left the band and caught the train back to London. When he took his seat, he vaguely recognised the guy sitting opposite him. It was Andy Ross of Food Records, Blur’s label which signed through EMI.

  The two men exchanged greetings. Obviously, both had firm loyalties but, like two football managers meeting in a bar after a Cup Final, they could now afford to be open with each other.

  According to Marcus, Ross told him that he had tried his best to dissuade Damon Albarn from going head to head with Oasis. In the long term, he had argued it would gain them nothing. He also asserted that it was Steve Sutherland, the NME editor, who had put the singer up to it.

  ‘I wish I could say it was,’ Sutherland now says, ‘but it’s untrue. All I know is that when I was playing football with Damon once, I asked him, “Come on, was it you that switched the single date?” He said it was. But I certainly never put him up to it.’

  The next day, NME and Melody Maker both made ‘Wonderwall’ their Single Of The Week.’ A mesmeric declaration of love,’ Michael Bonner wrote in the Melody Maker. ‘Haunting, beautiful and effortlessly simple.’

  NME’s John Robinson wrote,’ “Wonderwall” is one of Oasis’s best records because it manages to be immensely robust while still being one of Noel’s most lyrically personal songs.’ He went on to add that it was ‘nearly a “Penny Lane” for the 1990s’.

  Radio One had proved equally supportive. In the month leading up to its release they had aired it sixty-seven times. By the time it finally slipped from the charts, it had been given 187 plays by Britain’s biggest national radio station.

  But that Sunday, Robson and Jerome stood firm and ‘Wonderwall’ bounced off their record and into the number two slot. The bookmakers did make Oasis a good bet for the Christmas number one, but in the end Robson and Jerome would maintain pole position until Michael Jackson released ‘Earth Song’ and won the coveted end-of-year position.

  By that time, everyone in the country knew about Mike Flowers. He was a singer who had emerged from London’s Easy Listening club scene and had covered ‘Wonderwall’ in his particular retro style. After a furious bidding war, Flowers was now signed to London Records.

  A week before the single’s release, Chris Evans played the song on his show. He informed his listeners that the record was an obscure 1950s original which Noel had callously ripped off, note for note. For that day, Britain believed him.

  ‘Wonderwall’ by The Mike Flowers Pops entered the top ten and started competing in sales with the Oasis original. Marcus told Noel that he could expect to make round about a quarter of a million pounds in royalties from that song alone.

  That was also the amount of money that Sony had now given Noel to start up his own record label, which he named Helter Skelter Records.

  ‘After a gig,’ he revealed, ‘the top Sony people came backstage and said they had this big present for me. I thought, top, it’s a huge fuck-off bag of coke. But they gave me this cheque and said, “Here are, have a record label.” It’s good, isn’t it?’

  After Marcus’s departure from Paris, the band had gone to an in-store signing session. One fan said to Noel, ‘Do you regret being a junkie?’

  For once, Noel was speechless.

  Another informed him that his uncle was Alan Williams, the manager who relinquished The Beatles to Brian Epstein.

  Noel retorted, ‘I bet he’s a miserable cunt.’

  On 14 November, after playing the Live Music Hall in Cologne two days previously, Oasis travelled back for a show in Nantes, France. The next night they were in Lille and then they came home.

  On the morning of Friday, 17 November, Noel and Maggie caught the train to Leicester for that night’s gig at the Granby Hall.

  On the journey, the conversation moved from The Beatles on to the subject of UFOs and space travel. Noel said, ‘I’m going to be the first person to play on Mars and when I play there I am going to tell those extra-terrestrials, “Look, sooner or later you’re going to hear about this group, The Beatles. But don’t take any notice. They were all right – but Oasis, that’s the ones you want.”’

  At the train station they hopped into a couple of cars and before travelling to the hall made a detour to the nearby massive Donnington festival site. They were thinking of playing here the following summer. Noel was shown the field and how the set-up would work. Such was their current popularity, he had already b
een informed that Oasis could play two nights here if they so chose.

  ‘Fuck it,’ Noel told Marcus, ‘let’s do a third and not tell anyone.

  Surprise even ourselves.’

  Later at the soundcheck, with Liam having not yet arrived, Noel started playing a new riff he had come up with. It would later grow into a song entitled ‘Me and My Big Mouth’.

  He also played another new tune. This time it was on acoustic guitar and was somewhat reminiscent of Ray Davies’s work. Then he and Jason were interviewed for Total Guitar magazine. Noel revealed that Epiphone had asked him to design a guitar. It would be called The Noel Gallagher Epiphone.

  Talking about the Oasis sound, Noel said, ‘I’ve told Bonehead that if he ever plays open chords, that’s it, I’m sacking him. He’s out of the band.’

  Then he went off to get ready in a dressing-room where some of the staff had hung defaced pictures of Blur on the wall.

  The gig was well up to standard and about two hours after, Noel was on his way home.

  In the van driving back to London that night, he said, ‘This year, we’ve won the league. But in 1996 I think we should put our foot on the brakes a bit and slow down. I told the band that but all they said was, “Fuck off, let’s go and record the next album as soon as possible.”’

  He took a drag of his cigarette and stared at the white lines flashing beneath him.

  ‘Fuck knows,’ he said.

  When he got home, he played Meg the new songs that had been taped at the soundcheck. She then asked him if he would get involved with a charity club night they were planning for an A&R guy who had broken his back diving. Meg started explaining what she wanted to do but Noel’s attention soon drifted towards the TV.

  ‘Are you listening to me?’ Meg suddenly demanded.

  Noel jerked his head back. ‘Sorry,’ he said, ‘You lost me round about the time you said A&R guy.’

  On the Sunday, Oasis flew to Stockholm, Sweden. That night, most of the band and road crew went out for a drink but Noel headed out by himself. He didn’t look too happy.