Oasis album review: Standing On The Shoulder Of Giants re-release is like a tribute act | Music | Entertainment
Oasis. Standing On the Shoulder Of Giants.
Nostalgia isnât all itâs cracked up to be. The first two Oasis albums were extraordinary, but their fourth â re-released today on silver vinyl â is at best so-so. It opens gloriously with the rowdy F****** In The Bushes, a combative instrumental driven by a snarling Zeppelin-like riff, adorned with quickfire samples from the Isle Of Wight festival. As hooligans tear down fences, we hear a promoter rant, âWe worked for one year for you pigs…â The track feels simultaneously dangerous and uplifting. But nothing else comes close to it. The Gallaghers famously channelled the Beatles on earlier releases â hence the title. There are nods to the Fab Four here too, but largely the band sound more like their own tribute act. Go Let It Out is Oasis-by-numbers. Gas Panic! aims to recapture the potency of festival anthems like Live Forever but collapses under the weight of its own 6-minute-plus pomposity.
Along the way we get a self-indulgent slice of trippy sub-Kula-Shaker psychedelic tripe (Who Feels Love?) and Little James, Liamâs banal ballad for his stepson, with basic sub-Imagine piano chords and lyrical doggerel.
David Bowie. Young Americans.
Rock chameleon Bowie pulled off his greatest twist by embracing Philly soul on this re-issued 1975 album which gave him his first US chart-topper with Fame, co-written with John Lennon and guitarist Carlos Alomar. Bowie called his RnB phase âthoroughly plasticâ but James Brown was so impressed with Fame he famously filched the riff.
The title track, with Luther Vandross on backing vocals, still sounds terrific and the lyrics sparkle: âShe took his ring, took his babies/It took him minutes, took her nowhereâŚâ Highs include the dreamy Win with David Sanbornâs sax and the funkier Fascination. Lows? Too much negativity, not enough tunes. The weakest track is Bowieâs take on Lennonâs Across The Universe.
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Jethro Tull. Curious Ruminant.
Prog rock veterans Tull sound remarkably sprightly on their 24th album, mining their own classic sound as Ian Andersonâs flute interacts with acoustic guitars on the opening track, Puppet And The Puppet Master. Dunsinane Hill knits Celtic folk with Macbeth for political observations. Jack Clarkâs melodic guitar adds to the thoughtful, jaunty mix throughout. Over Jerusalemâs musical mid-passage is magical.
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PP Arnold. Soul Survivor: A Life In Song.
She started as an Ikette, sang with the Small Faces and had a solo hit with the original version of Cat Stevensâs The First Cut Is The Deepest before working with KLF. Los Angeles born PP â Pat to her pals â is an under-sung soul great. This stylish, career-spanning 57-song 3CD set packs in singles, LP tracks, demos, and unreleased songs.
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Bradley Simpson. The Panic Years.
The Vamps singer opens his heart on his first solo album drawing on personal heartache. Cry At The Moon shows what Bradâs capable of, pairing honesty and heartfelt emotion with a sweeping alt-rock chorus. Carpet Burn builds from revelatory lyrics to an irresistible refrain. Breezy charmer Daisies shows he does upbeat too.