Oasis
Definitely Maybe

It kicks in like the first beer after a week from hell. Definitely Maybe grabs you by the collar, flicks a cigarette at your shoes, and cranks up the volume. Noel Gallagher showed up with a bag of riffs he clearly filched from giants, but he played them like they were owed to him. And Liam? Liam wields that voice like a sneer dipped in honey and pint foam.

Oasis - Definitely Maybe (1994)
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Best of…

This album feels like a band declaring they were already legends, and you’d better catch up. It’s loud, rough around the edges, and completely convinced of its own greatness. That arrogance? That’s the fuel. There’s a buzz in the air—every chord sounds like it’s about to explode into something even bigger. The production might be raw, but it never lacks punch. Owen Morris and Mark Coyle didn’t clean it up—they amplified the swagger and grit.

What holds it together isn’t just attitude—it’s the songs. Noel laces every track with hooks sticky enough to cling to your brain like chewing gum on a boot. There’s nothing tentative about it. Every chorus swings for the rafters, and every verse sounds like it was scribbled in a pub booth after one too many. Definitely Maybe doesn’t break new ground—it dances across it like it already owns the place.

Choice Tracks

Supersonic

Nonsense lyrics, killer groove. It’s cocky, weirdly funky, and somehow irresistible. The guitar buzzes like it’s had a few too many. And that snare crack? Like a slap in the face you keep asking for.

Rock ’n’ Roll Star

It opens the album with zero humility and a full tank of gasoline. Liam howls like he’s already sold out Wembley, and Noel’s guitars crash like surf in a thunderstorm. Not a promise—it’s a statement.

Live Forever

Here’s where the pulse of the record reveals itself. A song about being immortal without knowing what that means. The melody soars, the sentiment clings to youthful delusion, and somehow it all lands perfectly.

Cigarettes & Alcohol

The riff’s lineage is obvious, but it doesn’t matter. This one stomps through the speakers in dirty boots, drunk on its own self-belief. Working-class nihilism never sounded this catchy.

Slide Away

A rare moment of vulnerability, dressed in distortion and longing. The guitar lines swirl, and Liam gives one of his most emotive deliveries. You can almost hear the heartbreak hiding behind the noise.


Definitely Maybe is a drunken manifesto, a middle finger wrapped in melody. It’s bold, loud, and unashamed. Oasis didn’t just want your attention—they demanded it. And they got it, with guitars in hand and swagger to spare.