Oasis - My Big Mouth

I think we can all agree that Blur was the better band, right?Comparison is the thief of joy, and in the Rule Britannia battle between Oasis and Blur — time has proven Blur was the better band. But Oasis remains the bigger band, and is more culturally relevant, as evidenced by all the excitement last week about the brothers Gallagher reuniting for a series of concert dates. It’s like how Chuck Klosterman, in what remains one of the best things I’ve ever read on the internet, describes the difference between the bands Boston and KISS: (I’m paraphrasing here) Boston was the better band, had better songs, and more people like Boston — but people love KISS. I appreciated Blur’s musical superiority, understood all of Oasis’ failings, but I still loved Oasis’ first two albums, and one quarter of their third. D’you know what I mean?

“My Big Mouth” is off the band’s semi-maligned third album Be Here Now. There are, IMHO, three really good songs on BHN: The aforementioned “D’you Know What I Mean?” (made famous by the peak rock excess use of excessive helicopters in the video), “I Hope, I Think, I Know,” and today’s pick, “My Big Mouth.” “My Big Mouth” is full-on-Kevin’s-mom Oasis full-on-Kevin’s-Mom Oasissing. Big RAWK guitars, a super catchy chorus, and the preeningest self-aware lyrics in all of rockdom:
Into my big mouth, yeah you could fly a plane.
I’ll put on my shoes while I’m walking slowly down the hall of fame (Ed. note: I do not know how you put on shoes and walk, but whatever).

Liam and Noel have become a cliche over the years, but are so tremendously themselves all the time that they defy parody. The Gallaghers are like the sun, swallowing whatever criticism you might throw at them — they will (champagne) supernova when they are good and ready, thank you very much. Thank god they know how to write a hook and a clever lyric otherwise they’d be insufferable. I love that Liam declares he’s not just walking down the hall of fame — he’s doing so in slow motion, John Woo-style, the bad-assest of all motions. You have to take your time, bask in him in as he passes you by, strutting as he, like the sun, does not even acknowledge you exist. And roiling inside you as you listen to that track and the unabashed egotism is, well, more than a feeling, it’s fookin’ love, man.