Words by Samuel Chamberlain
Liam Gallagher has never been shy about his love of The Stone Roses. According to the London Evening Standard, the existence of Oasis relied entirely on one particularly inspirational Roses gig supporting fellow Britpop legends James at Manchester’s International 2, now an apartment complex, in 1988, which the star would later describe as “life-changing”. Taking to Twitter in 2017, he expressed his wish to form a supergroup with members of The Stone Roses: in some form, this has indeed materialised with the help of the Roses’ infamously talented guitarist John Squire, although it certainly falls short of his fans’ (and, probably, his own) dreams.
‘Raise Your Hands’ opens the album with an Oasis-style drum beat, matched by an electrifying, bluesy riff from Squire and a jaunty call to energetic action from Gallagher: you’d hope that this opener would set the tone for the rest of the album, and it’s a shame that its momentum is not carried through. On ‘Mars To Liverpool’, Gallagher exclaims “Here comes the feeling,” but it’s hard to tell what this “feeling” actually is, as it never seems to arrive. The lyric is just as ambiguous as the album as a whole, leaving the impression that Gallagher and Squire are creatively directionless and almost entirely reliant on their legacies.
‘One Day at a Time’ sees Squire sounding reasonably revitalised musically, abandoning the fuzzy Roses riffs he is famed for and could effortlessly replicate. However, by the third track, the album easily fades into the background as it noticeably lacks any sense of musical diversity, opting instead for a sonic formula which may construct a cohesive record, but quickly grows dull.
In the lead-up to the album’s release, Gallagher promised via X (formerly Twitter) that it “pisses all over” The Beatles’ 1966 classic Revolver. On ‘I’m A Wheel’, it’s easy to see where he got this inflated, hyperbolic statement from, yet the song never comes close to reaching the heights of classic tracks such as ‘Tomorrow Never Knows’. It’s hard to comprehend, too, this collaboration becoming anywhere near as impactful as that of such an integral band: the psychedelic influences of Revolver are there, but is this simply unoriginal and derivative?
As ‘Just Another Rainbow’ progresses Gallagher’s signature gravelly vocals become increasingly grating, and certainly don’t possess the charm they brought to Oasis tracks, or even his own solo material. Greg Kurstin’s production, previous Oasis collaborator Mark ‘Spike’ Stent’s mixing and John Greenham’s mastering all fall flat, which is surprising considering Kurstin’s work with Adele, Kendrick Lamar, and Foo Fighters to name but a few. The album continues, and it becomes clearer that the synergy of so many talents is not always as great an idea as it may look on paper.
‘Love You Forever’, on the other hand, is the closest the pair will get to the greatness of Revolver as Gallagher contemplates “growing old disgracefully” to the backdrop of a moody, hillbilly-style riff from Squire, before shining a positive light on ageing and transforming the song into a declaration of everlasting, imperishable love.
‘Make It Up As You Go Along’ sounds like a slightly more profane nursery rhyme, while ‘I’m So Bored’ aims for swagger and bombast but lands instead on the very monotony it declares against. Gallagher proclaims that he is “bored with the war” and “bored with the peace,” “bored with the bosses” and “bored with the strikes” in what may be an infrequent attempt at introducing substance to his lyricism. However, this also falls flat, and only serves to enunciate just how uninspired the once-great Oasis frontman seems to have become. If Gallagher and Squire are aiming to invigorate their listeners with a form of social commentary here, then timid criticisms of modernity such as the line “I, I live on my phone” aren’t going to cut it.
Despite previous banalities, ‘You’re Not The Only One’ comes as a rare highlight towards the end of the album, bringing with it a jagged, thunderous piano riff that injects an unexpected vivacity into the record. However, it’s back to more of the same with ‘Mother Nature’s Song’, which may well be the most anti-climactic closer of the year so far. Liam Gallagher has rarely been lauded for his writing in the past, but here it may have reached a low point: lines such as “all the birds are singing / it’ll soon be dark” could have been written by a pre-school child.
Most of this album is plainly unoriginal, relying entirely on the (admittedly quite solid) backbone of its creators’ legacies. Even the title, Liam Gallagher & John Squire, is unimaginative, and as one observant listener put it, its cover looks like “your nan’s Asda haul.” It’s an album sure to receive mixed reviews from critics and audiences alike, with some viewing it as a masterful collaboration and others dismissing it as forgettable.
Few tracks here stand out from the rest, but the main problem is the inevitable Biblical expectations it has to live up to, which unfortunately aren’t met. With multiple timeless masterpieces behind the two of them, it was unlikely that these ten mostly insipid tracks would live up to their creators’ legacies. However, the album is undeniably a landmark moment in Mancunian music, and while Liam Gallagher reeling off the colours of the rainbow may be painful to listen to, there are sparse enjoyable moments here. Overall, this synergy of two Mancunian legends certainly has its momentary merits, it just takes a little while to find them.
