Tag: Oasis

Is Here Now

A lyrical analysis of Oasis’ Be Here Now, originally written in 2019

Oasis released their third album, Be Here Now, on 21 August 1997. It was met with significant widespread anticipation, and went on to become the UK’s best-selling album of 1997[1] as well as its fastest-selling album of all time[2] – internationally, it also proved a sizeable hit. It was initially given an enthusiastic critical response, with several reviews consisting of unanimous praise. Over time, however, Be Here Now’s sales and supporters dwindled and it has been retrospectively seen as excessively ambitious, too long and overproduced. In 2018, NME described it as “a rock folly, a coke-fuelled monument to ‘90s excess.”[3]  It is cited as the album that prompted the decline of the wider Britpop scene, but it still produced three UK hit singles in ‘D’You Know What I Mean?’, ‘Stand By Me’ and ‘All Around the World’. The latter remains the longest track ever to reach number one on the UK Singles Chart, indicating both the scale of the music on Be Here Now and Oasis’s colossal commercial appeal.

Noel Gallagher – the group’s main songwriter – had been inspired to create songs that “escaped the strictures of orthodox rock composition”[4] and were “Bigger, Louder and Longer”[5]. In addition, the success Oasis had achieved by the time Be Here Now was written and recorded meant that they were virtually entirely unrestricted by deadlines or budgets. The decadence evident during the album’s production may have influenced its lyrics, although they largely display the same typical Oasis elements of arrogance, relentless optimism and melancholy.

Be Here Now was released following Labour’s landslide victory at the 1997 general election, and this developed a feeling of positivity that had existed for some time beforehand, fostered by events such as the aforementioned political changes as well as cultural landmarks including “Euro 96 and Britpop in general.”[6] ‘D’You Know What I Mean?’, Be Here Now’s opening track, has been described as “more rally than song”[7], and is an example of how many lyrics exist “to propose ideas about life and the world.”[8] It progresses with an authority and forcefulness that is difficult to deny, conveying this most notably in the chorus; “all my people, right here, right now/d’you know what I mean?/yeah, yeah.”[9] The first part seems to cultivate a sensation of togetherness and unity among band and audience; in addition, it reinforces the reputation of Oasis as a working-class band of the people, since Liam is singing to “my people”. The listener is thus part of the story, allowing the band’s message to gain momentum. In the rest of the song, this is used to encourage the listener to brush off life’s setbacks and approach everything with confidence. Through lines such as “get up off the floor and believe in life/no-one’s ever gonna ever ask you twice”[10], they are subjected to a degree of ethos in the lyrics, since the narrator is evidently attempting to convince the listener of their own personal strength and inspire faith in their message. It has been noted that the song’s chorus provided a particularly apparent “note of hubristic confidence”[11], linking back to the aforementioned arrogance that featured in Oasis’s earlier lyrics. Looking deeper at the words themselves, we can establish that there is use of both perfect rhymes and family rhymes. In parts of the song, they almost seem to alternate; for example, “step off the train all alone at dawn/back into the hole where I was born”[12] is swiftly followed by “the blood on the tracks, and they must be mine/the fool on the hill, and I feel fine”[13]. These lines, varying in their rhyme style, are separated by standalone ones – in this case, “the sun in the sky never raised an eye to me”[14], which helps to establish a pattern running through the rest of the song. This format, along with the repetitive nature of the chorus and the steady AABCCB rhyme scheme in the verses (the pre-chorus is ABBCC), can potentially make the song easier for a listener to memorise, thereby increasing the effectiveness of its message. The video develops this, showing Oasis performing the song in an apparently post-apocalyptic world while helicopters fly overhead and a crowd gathers. Smoke grenades are thrown, adding colour and chaos to a grey setting and bearing a resemblance to the uprising and sense of fearlessness encouraged by the lyrics.

‘Don’t Go Away’, on the other hand, is much more personal and introspective in nature. Its lyrics take the form of a plea to a loved one not to abandon the narrator. It opens with “a cold and frosty morning/there’s not a lot to say/about the things caught in my mind”[15], immediately setting a solemn scene, establishing a clear sense of pathos, and succinctly illustrating the narrator’s frustration at being unable to properly express their inner feelings. Its production was supposedly an emotional experience; Liam claims to have cried while recording his vocal, saying that “I had to go away and sort myself out”[16]. The emotional angle is reiterated notably in the lines that lead up to the chorus – “and I want to be there when you’re coming down/and I want to be there when you hit the ground.”[17] When the chorus begins, the aforementioned plea fully manifests itself; “don’t go away/say what you say/say that you’ll stay/forever and a day.”[18] As well as desperation, a sense of loss is also apparent: “me and you, what’s going on? All we seem to know is how to show/the feelings that are wrong.”[19] Such lines suggest an emotional vulnerability that is at odds with the resilience and defiance evident in other Oasis songs; on Be Here Now alone, ‘Don’t Go Away’ is preceded by ‘My Big Mouth’ (“I’ll put on my shoes while I’m walking slowly down the hall of fame”[20]) and ‘I Hope, I Think, I Know’ (“’cause baby, after all/you’ll never forget my name”[21]). In rhyming terms, the lyrics employ more examples of perfect rhymes, and more evenly so than ‘D’You Know What I Mean?’. The scheme can be established an ABABCDD, at least in the first two verses; “damn my situation and the games I have to play/with all the things caught in my mind/damn my education, I can’t find the words to say/all the things caught in my mind.”[22] At the end of these, the words “coming down”[23] are sung after a pause, separating them on their own line and disrupting the flow of the pattern, although much like ‘D’You Know What I Mean?’, the consistency of this method can again allow the song to stay in the listener’s mind.

The video matches the melancholy theme of the song, while also using more surreal elements. It depicts Liam singing in a house and caught in moments of deep reflection while the rest of the band appear around him, and an orchestra play in a desolate and blue landscape. The visuals are likely to attract attention, but they all seemingly serve to isolate Liam and what he is singing, which can in turn provoke thought and reflection among listeners.

‘All Around the World’, however, is inherently optimistic and the album’s most blatant display of grandiosity. This orchestra uses strings and horns to create a juggernaut of positivity and convince the listener that everything will be right in their world; “all around the world/you’ve got to spread the word/tell ‘em what you’ve heard/we’re going to make a better day.”[24] Such a message can be interpreted as another attempt to inspire more confidence in the listener, albeit in a manner that displays less attitude than ‘D’You Know What I Mean?’. Its lyrics are even more consistent than those of the aforementioned two songs; certain sections are repeated numerous times (“yeah, I know what I know/it’s gonna be okay”[25]), and the verses contain a series of identical perfect rhymes in an AAAA pattern, followed by AAAABB in the pre-chorus sections. In addition, “please don’t cry, never say die”[26] features an additional rhyme, with an internal one occurring on the same line.

The music video for the song emphasises its positivity – Oasis are shown performing the song in a yellow spaceship while travelling through a surreal fantasy world, apparently inspired by The Beatles’ Yellow Submarine film. The jovial tone and bright colours of the video effectively compliment the lyrics, placing Liam firmly at the centre – he and the rest of the band are dressed in white suits, thereby rejecting darker attire, and he and Noel exchange light-hearted glances, abandoning their usual seriousness and revelling in their spectacular surroundings.

The relative extravagance of Be Here Now’s music and videos extended to its promotional materials. The album’s cover featured Oasis standing around a swimming pool at Stocks House, Hertfordshire, surrounded by various props; the pool had a Rolls-Royce lowered into it, and the items included a calendar displaying the album’s release date. It is believed that this was included to equate buying a copy on release day to participating in “some kind of historical event”[27] – the album’s title may convey a similar idea. Indeed, customers who purchased it at HMV stores were given a certificate confirming they had “been there then”[28], emphasising the perceived magnitude of the occasion. On the album’s supporting tour, the stage set replicated some of the cover artwork items. A Rolls-Royce grille was used as Alan White’s drum riser, and the band entered through a red telephone box, preceded by a ringmaster who walked the stage to enliven the audience.[29] Despite such ostentatiousness, the band themselves often donned more casual attire in keeping with their working-class reputation, remaining a degree of relatability to the audience despite the nature of Be Here Now’s music and retaining the image for which they are best known to the public.

Mason

Bibliography

The Official Charts Company. ‘End of Year Album Chart Top 100 – 1997’. Accessed 6 November 2019. https://www.officialcharts.com/charts/end-of-year-artist-albums-chart/19970105/37502/

BBC Newsbeat. ‘Sorry Adele, Oasis are still the album chart record breakers’. Accessed 6 November 2019. http://www.bbc.co.uk/newsbeat/article/34919975/sorry-adele-oasis-are-still-the-album-chart-record-breakers

NME. ‘Oasis’ ‘Be Here Now’ – Was It Really That Bad?’. Accessed 6 November 2019. https://www.nme.com/blogs/nme-blogs/oasis-be-here-now-at-15-was-it-really-that-bad-770068

Harris, John. The Last Party: Britpop, Blair and the Demise of English Rock. London: Fourth Estate, 2003.

Dorian Lynskey, ‘’Flattened by the cocaine panzers’ – the toxic legacy of Oasis’s Be Here Now’, The Guardian, 6 October 2016. Accessed 6 November 2019. https://www.theguardian.com/music/2016/oct/06/flattened-by-the-cocaine-panzers-the-toxic-legacy-of-oasiss-be-here-now

Eckstein, Lars. Reading Song Lyrics. Amsterdam: Rodopi, 2010.

Oasis, ‘D’You Know What I Mean?’, from Be Here Now, Creation Records, 1997.

Oasis, ‘Don’t Go Away’, from Be Here Now, Creation Records, 1997.

MTV. ‘MTV Oasis Uncut Documentary’. YouTube. 24:35. Posted by Whenallwozkool, 4 August 2013. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=evCXwh0vcNM

Oasis, ‘My Big Mouth’, from Be Here Now, Creation Records, 1997.

Oasis, ‘I Hope, I Think, I Know’, from Be Here Now, Creation Records, 1997.

Oasis, ‘All Around the World’, from Be Here Now, Creation Records, 1997.

Loud and Quiet. ‘Don’t just blame the cocaine for Oasis’ Be Here Now – it was kinda Richard Ashcroft’s fault’. Accessed 6 November 2019. https://www.loudandquiet.com/short/dont-just-blame-cocaine-oasis-now-kinda-richard-ashcrofts-fault/

Oasis. ‘Oasis – G Mex Arena Manchester Full Concert December 1997’. YouTube. 1:49:35. Posted by headshrinker666, 18 July 2014. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8N-ylUkGV2Y&t=168s

[1]‘End of Year Album Chart Top 100 – 1997’, accessed 6 November 2019. https://www.officialcharts.com/charts/end-of-year-artist-albums-chart/19970105/37502/

[2] ‘Sorry Adele, Oasis are still the album chart record breakers’, accessed 6 November 2019. http://www.bbc.co.uk/newsbeat/article/34919975/sorry-adele-oasis-are-still-the-album-chart-record-breakers

[3] ‘Oasis’ ‘Be Here Now’ – Was It Really That Bad?’, accessed 6 November 2019. https://www.nme.com/blogs/nme-blogs/oasis-be-here-now-at-15-was-it-really-that-bad-770068

[4] John Harris, The Last Party: Britpop, Blair and the Demise of English Rock (London: Fourth Estate, 2003), 334.

[5] Harris, The Last Party, 334.

[6] Dorian Lynskey, ‘’Flattened by the cocaine panzers’ – the toxic legacy of Oasis’s Be Here Now’, The Guardian, 6 October 2016. Accessed 6 November 2019. https://www.theguardian.com/music/2016/oct/06/flattened-by-the-cocaine-panzers-the-toxic-legacy-of-oasiss-be-here-now

[7] Lynskey, ‘’Flattened by the cocaine panzers’.

[8] Lars Eckstein, Reading Song Lyrics (Amsterdam: Rodopi, 2010), 10.

[9] Oasis, ‘D’You Know What I Mean?’, from Be Here Now, Creation Records, 1997.

[10] Oasis, ‘D’You Know What I Mean?’, from Be Here Now, Creation Records, 1997.

[11] Harris, The Last Party, 338.

[12] Oasis, ‘D’You Know What I Mean?’, from Be Here Now, Creation Records, 1997.

[13] Oasis, ‘D’You Know What I Mean?’, from Be Here Now, Creation Records, 1997.

[14] Oasis, ‘D’You Know What I Mean?’, from Be Here Now, Creation Records, 1997.

[15] Oasis, ‘Don’t Go Away’, from Be Here Now, Creation Records, 1997.

[16] ‘MTV Oasis Uncut Documentary’, YouTube, 24:35, posted by Whenallwozkool, 4 August 2013. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=evCXwh0vcNM

[17] Oasis, ‘Don’t Go Away’, from Be Here Now, Creation Records, 1997.

[18] Oasis, ‘Don’t Go Away’, from Be Here Now, Creation Records, 1997.

[19] Oasis, ‘Don’t Go Away’, from Be Here Now, Creation Records, 1997.

[20] Oasis, ‘My Big Mouth’, from Be Here Now, Creation Records, 1997.

[21] Oasis, ‘I Hope, I Think, I Know’, from Be Here Now, Creation Records, 1997.

[22] Oasis, ‘Don’t Go Away’, from Be Here Now, Creation Records, 1997.

[23] Oasis, ‘Don’t Go Away’, from Be Here Now, Creation Records, 1997.

[24] Oasis, ‘All Around the World’, from Be Here Now, Creation Records, 1997.

[25] Oasis, ‘All Around the World’, from Be Here Now, Creation Records, 1997.

[26] Oasis, ‘All Around the World’, from Be Here Now, Creation Records, 1997.

[27] Harris, The Last Party, 341.

[28] ‘Don’t just blame the cocaine for Oasis’ ‘Be Here Now – it was kinda Richard Ashcroft’s fault’, accessed 6 November 2019, https://www.loudandquiet.com/short/dont-just-blame-cocaine-oasis-now-kinda-richard-ashcrofts-fault/

[29] Oasis, ‘Oasis – Live G Mex Arena Manchester Full Concert December 1997’, YouTube, 1:49:35, posted by headshrinker666, 18 July 2014. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8N-ylUkGV2Y&t=168s

Bum Notes

Ahead of starting my new “Composing Song Lyrics” module next semester, I wanted to do something different here and review the next album I listened to for the first time. That way, I’d have something to go with my review of the film Whiplash, which I posted here at the end of June. It was my birthday on Sunday, and at my request, Louis gave me one of the albums that I needed to plug a conspicuous hole in my vinyl collection – I was missing the final three Oasis records, of which Dig Out Your Soul is the last. Released in 2008, this seventh studio effort was also the seventh consecutive album by the Manchester icons to go to number one in the UK, and their last hurrah before their abrupt split in August 2009. As we have now arrived at the tenth anniversary of the event, it seems apt for me to tackle their last offering now, even if this did come about entirely by coincidence. Louis tells me that he chose Dig Out Your Soul because out of all my missing Oasis albums, “it had the prettiest cover”.

Dad plugged my record player back in – after it had spent the last couple of months in the garage following my return from university – and I listened to the album from start to finish with my notebook to hand. I tried to write something about every song, even if it was just a few words or a single sentence. For the opening track, “Bag It Up”, I wrote “raw, repetitive, lumbering juggernaut of a riff begins the album. Liam’s vocals are crisp but full of attitude.” As I soon discovered, those words presented me with a considerable problem – namely that I could pretty much say the same for every song. I’m not saying that that’s necessarily a bad thing, but as I got further into the album, I struggled to muster anything more adventurous, to the point where it felt like I was scraping the bottom of the barrel out of desperation at times.

I can see the decline in the notes I made. Of “The Turning”, the album’s second song, I was able to say that its opening was “soft and more subdued, with gentle drums and keyboards.” From this point, though, I can tell that I was gradually running out of any kind of valuable insight. All I could offer on “Waiting For The Rapture” was that it was “stylistically similar to the opening track”, and a throwaway reference to the fact that Noel Gallagher apparently wrote it about meeting his wife. It got even worse by the time of “Ain’t Got Nothin'”, another song full of attitude that only received a response of “typical Liam!” from me. I did redeem myself to some extent with certain judgements. I managed to specify that “The Shock of the Lightning” was “a great, unashamedly rock and roll anthem that would have been great to hear live”, and “I’m Outta Time” was a song that seemed to “unknowingly foreshadow” the fate of Oasis itself. Overall, though, my attempt to thoroughly review Dig Out Your Soul fell flat on its face – there were several songs about which I could say nothing at all.

I don’t think that’s a reflection on the quality of the album at all. There are only a select few records I’ve ever heard that I’ve categorically disliked. It’s more a reflection on my own reviewing abilities, and the fact that no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get the depth I was looking for. I didn’t feel confident enough to try using any musical terminology either, and the end result was a set of notes that couldn’t have looked less knowledgeable if they’d tried. They’ve given me a reason to go back to the drawing board, but I’m going to look at that as a positive thing. Maybe my upcoming module will give me the insight into the songwriting process that I need to confidently discuss how music is made. At the very least, it’ll allow me to think about adding another string to my writing bow, and including more reviews here. Mum has told me they’d be well worth doing more often, so maybe – for once – I should take her advice on board!

Mason

 

The Pull, Part 14

Allow me to present what is effectively Winchester Mission Control, just six days before we launch the rocket towards its destination. The large pile cluttering up the centre of the image above is made entirely of clothes I will be taking – in the process of clearing out the wardrobe, I was surprised to discover that I owned many more T-shirts than I thought I did! The garments that had to be retired after years of loyal service were consigned to one of two other piles, and as I write this they are destined either for the charity shop or to be used as miscellaneous rags in one of Dad’s many household jobs. I have to say that seeing everything I would definitely need grouped together made the whole exercise feel somewhat therapeutic – together with Mum I had been ruthless and made some sacrifices, which did feel quite calming. The first thing that introduced even a modicum of stress to proceedings was deciding what to wear to the ball I have booked a ticket for during my Freshers’ Week.

The dress code is very much a formal one, but even though that seems straightforward enough, it did open up something of a small can of worms, because “formal” can mean any one of a number of style choices. I tend not to be good at those, so I turned to my new flatmates for a spot of fashion advice – I had no idea whether I should choose a jacket, waistcoat, shirt and tie, bow tie, or anything in between. Panicking, I put the question forward, but the response was encouraging and it really helped to defuse the situation. The general consensus was that I should go for whatever I felt most comfortable in, since all of the contenders fell under the umbrella of formality. I have therefore decided to keep it simple – as things stand, I will be opting for a shirt, a tie, and a nice pair of trousers in an attempt to look dapper.

That particular dilemma was thus resolved, but what remained proved to be just as difficult. As I plan to take my record player away with me, I needed to choose ten albums that I simply could not do without. Panic filled my brain – what if I sorely regretted one or more of my choices, and couldn’t do anything about it? This notion immobilised me for a moment, causing me to flick through my collection aimlessly before I gathered my thoughts and decided my choices had be well-established, undoubted favourites. You can see one of them in the bottom right-hand corner of the picture – Oasis’ Be Here Now (1997). It is one of two albums by the Manchester greats that I selected. The other was their debut (and absolute finest hour) Definitely Maybe (1994), and that in turn was accompanied by Blur’s Parklife (1994), Pulp’s Different Class (1995), The Smiths’ Hatful of Hollow (1984), Jamiroquai’s Automaton (2017), Busted’s Night Driver (2016), Muse’s Black Holes and Revelations (2006), Moby’s Play (1999), and Pink Floyd’s The Wall (1979). They have now been separated from their fellow LPs ready to be packed up, and I have reassured myself that if I do regret not bringing one or more alternatives, I can just listen to them on Spotify instead. That’s it now, though – final choices are being made and the final ball has been set in motion. When those records next see the light of day, they will be two whole counties away…

Mason

 

The Top Twenty Records Of All Time, Part 2

A little while ago, I gave you the first four of eight songs I’d take away with me to a hypothetical desert island, as all guests do on Desert Island Discs. I promised that the rest would follow in a second post – since it was such a difficult list to devise – along with my chosen book and luxury. There’s no time like the present, so without further ado, I give you all my remaining choices. Songs first!

Just bear in mind that these will be listed from 1 to 4 again, as WordPress doesn’t seem to allow me to enter 5 to 8. I wouldn’t want to confuse you, would I?

  1. “The Boy With The Thorn In His Side” by The Smiths. Like Muse, I knew that The Smiths would be assured of a place here as soon as I started thinking about the lucky eight songs. There are many legendary musical names, such as Lennon and McCartney or Jagger and Richards, that are often grouped together in iconic pairings, but – somewhat bafflingly, in my opinion – singer Morrissey and guitarist Johnny Marr are rarely put up there with them. I view them as the greatest duo in history. The impact they had upon their band was such that when Marr left in 1987, they had no choice but to disband. This is because neither man was expendable, and no incarnation of The Smiths could have survived without either of them. They complimented each other perfectly, despite their differing styles – Morrissey’s melancholic lyrics and delivery shouldn’t match Johnny Marr’s upbeat and chiming riffs on paper, but in reality they were a force to be reckoned with and remain so to this day. Their talents have made Morrissey a legendary lyricist and vocalist – whatever you think of him as a person – and Marr the most distinctive and talented man ever to play guitar. Furthermore, their partnership was an incredibly fruitful one, in spite of the fact that it lasted just five years, from 1982 to 1987. During that period, the band produced four studio albums in quick succession, along with a whole host of compilation records – Hatful of Hollow stands out among these in my eyes – singles and other non-album tracks. You might expect that this level of productivity means there are many gems to choose from in The Smiths’ catalogue, and you’d be right. It was “The Boy With The Thorn In His Side” that eventually won the toss after much deliberation. It’s one of the songs I often find myself retreating to when I’m in a reflective mood, perhaps as a result of sadness or regret. Like many of the group’s tunes, it resonates with me primarily because of its lyrics. They tell a story of misunderstood love, something to which many of us can surely relate (“how can they see the love in our eyes, and say they don’t believe us?”) For reasons I’m not willing to elaborate on, it resonates very clearly with me (not because of “hatred” or “murderous desire”), and every time I hear the song I am transported immediately back to a difficult time. The song is a thing of such beauty, however, that I often overlook the darkness, feeling only the admiration stirred up by such a great piece of art.
  2. “Lift Me Up” by Moby. I have loved dance music for as long as I can remember, and for me Moby is akin to royalty within the genre. His album Play is my second-favourite of all time – when it comes to the albums I consider to be the very best, I always find that they offer something very different to anything else, and that’s usually something I can’t quite put my finger on. I found Play a relaxing and somewhat dreamlike record when I listened to it for the first time – tracks like “Inside” and its biggest hit single “Porcelain” are the best examples of this – but Moby’s interest in other musical styles, such as gospel, also caught my attention. “Lift Me Up”, however, does not actually feature on this album. It would not surface for another six years, until the release of Hotel in 2005, when Moby ventured into the field of alternative rock. My track of choice would be issued as its lead single, becoming a Top 40 hit in the UK. What seals its inclusion on this list, however, is the role it was given a year later as the theme music for ITV’s Formula One coverage. From 2006 to 2008 it formed part of a very prominent soundtrack to my weekends between March and November, so ignoring one of my biggest passions when choosing the music for this selection was simply never going to be an option. This is the first F1 theme tune that I can properly remember hearing from my formative years, and with the exception of Fleetwood Mac’s “The Chain”, it may well be a contender for the very best of all. Hearing it now takes me right back to watching some great seasons unfold – even though ITV would always insist on showing continuous adverts during the race…
  3. Murray Gold’s 2010 arrangement of the Doctor Who theme tune. Continuing on the TV train of thought for a moment, I give you one of the many awesome variations of this iconic show’s signature tune, composed by Gold for the fifth revived series – the first to feature Matt Smith’s Eleventh Doctor. I have chosen this version of the piece mainly because of my fondness for said series and the memories it evokes – described here – but it also stands out because of how it fuses a traditional orchestral arrangement with modern synthesised elements. This combination is, in my eyes, very effective. Although it arguably lacked the grandiosity and clout of the previous exclusively orchestral post-2005 themes, it did convey the start of something new and exciting while also retaining the sense of spooky alien mystery that makes Doctor Who great. A match made in heaven!
  4. “D’You Know What I Mean?” by Oasis. We have now made it to the eighth song on my list, and I have decided to save a slice of rock and roll until last in the form of one of the many barnstormers from Oasis’ Be Here Now album. My mind was made up because of my admiration for this record – the black sheep of the band’s catalogue, slated by fans, critics and Noel Gallagher himself – because it showcases rock star extravagance like no other disc I can think of. Those who enjoy it do so because of the very things that alienated its audience (albeit not before it sold eight million copies) – very long, very loud and excessively over-produced songs. “D’You Know What I Mean?” is the first of these, a bombastic, seven-minute number one hit often cited as one of the album’s saving graces. The moment walls of roaring sonic volume fill my headphones, I feel a sense of euphoria of the kind created by all great anthems. I also see the band as they were at that time, enjoying the peak of their fame and all it had to offer. The critics have said that this was to the detriment of Be Here Now, since it has been described as “over-indulgent and bloated”, but I don’t mind that at all. On every listen I revel in being transported back 21 years to an era where proper rockers like the Gallaghers still roamed free. Sadly, it seems that we can only dream of such people in 2018. On the whole, there seem to be very few true characters entering the music scene, and this makes me even more grateful for albums like Be Here Now and songs like the aforementioned. It’s a great shame they aren’t more widely appreciated, but I hope I can rectify that to some extent by listing one of them here.

Now that all of my songs have been selected, I must choose a book to go with them. I do consider myself highly literate and a keen reader, but although I have read quite a few books in my time, none have really made an impact big enough for them to be included here. The Writer’s Tale by Russell T Davies and Benjamin Cook is the only published one that really comes close, since it provides such a great insight into the production of modern TV and the lives of those who write it, but the one that has been most useful to me is one that is yet to be filled. My definitive choice is my own red Moleskine notebook, bought in Waterstone’s during a lunch break last year, in which I now record the majority of ideas that appear on this blog and in other musings. It goes wherever I go, resting snugly in my wheelchair’s sidebag with a pen accompanying it, and a few weeks ago it served as the receptacle for Christopher’s story during my taster session in Winchester. I can’t wait for it to be with me for many more when the course begins. If it’s going to go with me to a hypothetical island, however, it needs to be much longer – so I’ll take it exactly as it is, with all the notes I’ve already made, but with the minor addition of infinite pages so that it lasts forever. I’m going to be there a long time, after all. That’s doable, right?

Finally, we come onto my luxury, and something I was never in any doubt about. Quite simply, I want a TV – although how you’d connect it on a desert island remains to be seen – capable of showing full live and uninterrupted coverage of every Formula One Grand Prix. The future of Formula One on free-to-air TV is a very prominent issue among fans at the moment, and in the UK, Channel 4 is entering the last year of its three-year deal to broadcast the sport. It would nice to have no worries about losing it from weekend afternoons, and alone on a desert island I wouldn’t have to worry about anyone interrupting the start either!

Mason