The problem with Noel Gallagher's High Flying Birds isn't the sound it is the song. The song Is pretty good, sure the vocals are nondescript but you don’t really replace a vocalist like Liam, the arrangements are powerful, not as great as Be here Now, but on the overaching kitchen sinked opening cut "Everybody's On the Run" it swells up in time tested Oasis form and flows you away with a full orchestra and a nicely built hard rock anthem.
And the problem isn't the lyrics, Noel was never a great lyricist and when he thought he was he missed the self evident truth that he would've been much better if he maintained the ease of "'Round Our Way" or the simple pluralism of "Supersonic" or "Rock N Roll Star". No lyric here can capture the passing of two decades but at least "High tide, summer in the city, / The kids are looking pretty, / But isn't it a pity, / That the sunshine is followed by thunder," is no worse than anything he has put his name to in years, and even includes a George Harrison nod.
The musical conception, a sort of power pop sophisticated continuation of the Oasis franchise: a sort of anti-Beady Eye, Liam wants to take you back to the future: thick necked classic rock dumb down for the proles, Noel wants to climb on the shoulders of giants and achieve the class transference from the Who to the Kinks. And he succeeds within limits. This is nothing if not a sophisticated take on modern English, and, already, he turns away away from the myriad of bands that followed in Oasis own giant footsteps (Muse for one: who had the bright idea of fusing Radiohead and Oasis) to forge a path of serious, important pop rock: the stuff that lasts, that digs deep.
So none of that is the problem, this is: song after song sucks. Noel forgot to write good songs. And there is no way round that this is 51 minutes of absolute crap lipstick on a pig, unbearable and bad rock songs.
How could this King of Melody forget how to write one? I mean, he could have simply cannibalized his owns if he wanted to, or the Kinks, or thought up some new ones. Something, anything, to drag us into the sound. Instead this is a surreally terrible album: nothing sticks, nothing keeps you listening, there is NOTHING TO RETURN TO: you forget the songs as you listen to them. The song ALWAYS COMES FIRST but without anybody to tell him the songs aren't finished before he started fucking about with their insides.
Do you have to even hear "I Wanna Live In A Dream In My) Record Collection", a swirling piece of dreary psychedelia. Do I need to tell you how soporific "Stop the Clocks" and "Let The Light Shine On Me" ? Or the overreaching "Everybody's On the Run"… or… I guess "The Good Shepherd" is as good as anything he''s written this century but what does that say?
Grade: C