An almost religious 90s experience, delivered by this wonderful voice – The Irish Times

Liam Gallagher

3Arena, Dublin

★★★★☆

After years of misery at the hands of Nirvana, Oasis’ 1994 Definitely Maybe injected some zest back into rock’n’roll. The band’s songs owed a few quid to everyone from the Sex Pistols to Slade to the New Seekers (songwriter Noel Gallagher, who traded like a magpie in a jewellery shop, always admitted to his long-fingered ways), but they were undeniably great, especially when sung at 3am with your best mate in your arms. However, nobody could sing them quite like Liam Gallagher. His voice was the sound of Oasis, which is why he can pull off a 30th anniversary tour of Definitely Maybe in a way that Noel, despite his brilliant songwriting skills, never could. The absence of the distinctive voice, the dream child of Lennon and Lydon, would spoil the whole thing.

While we wait for the inevitable reunion, this show will surely provide enough fodder to go on, even if Liam denied the latest tabloid rumors just this weekend with a “This is the first I’ve heard of this” tweet.

The atmosphere in the 3Arena before kick-off is absolutely lethal as the crowd swirls and roars like waves crashing against a cliff, although this is nothing compared to the frenzied outburst that accompanies Liam’s arrival. The preternaturally charismatic Mancunian saunters on, the big band explodes into Rock ‘N’ Roll Star and we’re back in the 90s when I was young and free.

That voice, which he still projects up and out with his hands behind his back, remains a wonder, perhaps the most distinctive of the last 30 years of rock’n’roll, whatever you may think of the music. Columbia, Shakermaker, Up In the Sky and the spitting punk of Bring It On Down have all the subtlety of an air raid, and are probably louder, but that makes them better. It’s a savage assault, although Liam’s ever-present sense of humor (name a better talk show guest) comes through when he offers Digsy’s dinner to any Irish-Italians who might be in the building (“We’ll have lasagne”).

The mood sinks a little when we hear the B-sides, as our man digs out demos and snippets from the period. Half the World Away is greeted like a favorite child, and if there’s anything on the solo albums anywhere near as good as the elephant-on-a-beach-ball rocking Fade Away, I haven’t heard it yet. Liam dedicates Lock All the Doors, a song his brother started writing in the ’90s and recorded for the High Flying Birds’ seemingly unironically titled Chasing Yesterday album, to anyone in the audience who calls Noel the rascal.

If you look up anthem in the dictionary, you’ll probably be led to cigarettes and alcohol. Liam doesn’t hold back and his sneering howl, which never met a vowel it couldn’t stretch, drives this banger into your ear like a stake. It would be the highlight if it weren’t for the perfect encore of Supersonic, Slide Away and Gallagher’s biggest song, Live Forever. The crowd were in for a religious experience, speaking in tongues when they weren’t singing along to every word. It was, to use a popular Gallagher phrase, a biblical evening. Who needs a reunion?