I’ve heard that Noel Gallagher carries a lot of baggage. Not as much as his brother, perhaps, but plenty. To use an American football comparison, Noel is not the Terrell Owens of the band, with the petulance and divisiveness. That would be Liam. Noel is more like the Randy Moss -- preternaturally gifted and occasionally resentful that the rest of the team cannot keep up. That’s just my loose interpretation of the meta-text. In truth, I know very little about the men or their music. I know about the fraternal stuff. I know the Blur stuff. I know about the supermodels. I know about the parkas and haircuts. I know the hits and a dew deep cuts. And I know that, when I first heard Oasis, it sounded like late-Beatles had plugged into Led Zeppelin’s equipment. Everything was maximum. More than sounding great, it sounded enormous. It sounded heavy, like a British Airways flight full of baggage.

Somehow, that jet plane stayed in the air until 2009, nearly fifteen years beyond their peak. The last gasps of the patient were not pretty. They were no doubt traumatic. And it took Noel a year or so to gather himself, form his new band and resolve to making an earnest solo career. Though his project would be called “Noel Gallagher’s High Flying Birds,” it was very clear at the outset that this was a solo project and that, for many, it would be a test of both his artistry and his appeal, separate from Liam. Of the brothers, there was never any doubt that Noel was the craftsman. He was the primary songwriter and, when called on, could front the band so effectively that it was natural to wonder what Liam brought to the band other than drama. The question of popular appeal, though, was swiftly answered when the first High Flying Birds’ albums, in spite of a lukewarm critical response, sold extraordinarily well in the U.K., markedly outselling Liam’s solo releases.  

Gradually, it seemed that Noel was beginning to shed some of the baggage. He was ever quotable and self-absorbed, but, as he aged, he appeared publicly, at least, to be lighter. He looked to be both more serious about his solo career and entirely less serious about the rest of the noise. Sometimes a rock star, but always a songwriter, by 2017, you could sense an almost Paul Weller-ish narrative emerging; this former, global rock star had settled into middle age, a quieter domesticity and a career that was significantly based on his appeal in the U.K. and his extraordinary craft as a songwriter.

The story of the High Flying Birds’ third solo album, “Who Built The Moon?”, is the story of an artist being asked by a producer to leave all of his baggage behind. Quite literally, legendary U.K. producer and  DJ, David Holmes, agreed to produce Gallagher’s record on the condition that he not bring any written songs into the studio. Holmes suggested that if Noel already had completed songs, it would implicitly assume both the material and a direction for the record. Holmes believed that if Noel already knew what he wanted to record and how he wanted the songs to sound, he could work with most any Producer or Engineer. David Holmes wanted to work with Noel Gallagher, but he wanted to be able to pack the bags himself. Or, at least, together. All of the music would be made together, in the studio.

Unsurprisingly, this approach was both new and entirely uncomfortable for Gallagher. But, as he approached fifty years, it was becoming clearer to him that what got him here was not going to get him there. Secretly curious and always striving, Gallagher agreed to the deal. What he did not know was that Holmes brought his own baggage to the studio. What Holmes did not know was that, even with just his guitars and pedals, Gallagher had in his back pocket enough songwriting tricks to at least fill a couple of carry ons.

The resulting album wholly reveals its titanic, competing forces. Gallagher is stretching himself to assemble all of his influences -- The Beatles, The Smiths, E.L.O., The Jam, Marvin Gaye -- through a rare skill and deftness in song construction. Holmes, on the other hand, is submerging these songs in wind tunnels and water tanks, burying them under heavy effects and heavier bass.  Holmes, having earned Gallagher’s trust and having his hands on the dials, mostly wins this heavyweight match. The sounds pin down the songs. But not by much. 

“Who Built The Moon?” is steeped in atmosphere. The bottom of the record sounds not unlike The Chemical Brothers -- bass up front and polyrhythmic. There are a lot of loops and samples and you get the sense that many of the tracks were designed for the remix rather than the album version. The production is, in certain ways, impressive. Holmes is able to synthesize Britpop, power ballads, Soul and Dance music in a single stew of thick bass and drum. Perhaps, more impressive, however, is the defense that Gallagher puts up for his songs. It sounds as though Noel has a bridge, hook, chorus or interlude for every idea Holmes throws at him. In that back pocket, Noel Gallagher smuggled in some of his finest songwriting tricks.

The tone of the battle is established immediately. The opener, “Fort Knox” is all swirling atmosphere, huge, thumping bass and storm gathering. Noel’s voice is mixed so far down to be barely audible. Holmes is warning us for what’s to come. The second track (and first single), “Holy Mountain, however, is a stiff counter from Gallagher, who steps back up to combine some E.L.O. bubblegum with the noisy jitter of “Waiting for My Man.” The chorus, wherein Paul Weller joins, finds Gallagher repeating the positively McCartney-esque: “She fell/She Fell/Right Under My Spell” over and over. Holmes took round one but the second is a memorable draw.

Although the weight of his production is far too heavy for my ears, Holmes does push Noel into styles we would not otherwise expect. And, if nothing else, these are the gifts of “Who Built The Moon?” “Keep On Reaching” is a deeply funky, kind of fucked up Soul track in the vein of Marvin Gaye. The refrain, which I attribute to Gallagher, and the pace, which I attribute to Holmes, are both intoxicating. For a moment, you almost feel like you are hearing Sly Stone reinvented for England in the 90s. The album shape-shifts again for “She Taught Me How to Fly,” in which Gallagher makes a nearly flawless New Wave song. Featuring Johnny Marr and a stretching and polishing of the melody that reminds one a lot of Blondie, this song could have been a John Hughes film anthem in another life. And, finally, there is “Black and White Sunshine” which sports a Jangle-Rock hook that reminds one of both R.E.M. as well as early 90s “should have beens,” Jellyfish. Not coincidentally, Jason Falkner, formerly of Jellyfish, plays bass throughout this album.

Unfortunately, when Noel checks down to the familiar, as he does on “Be Careful What You Wish For” and “If Love Is The Law,” he sounds like he is nicking a Beatles (or Oasis) hook without having figured out the rest of the song. Without the struggle, he is easily outgunned by the heavy production and, conversely, Holmes has less to work with. 

Curiously, Gallagher and Holmes fill out the album with two instrumentals -- “Interlude” and “End Credits.” Both sound cut right from the “Oceans Eleven” films, which makes sense given that Holmes composed songs for that franchise. More than sounding like a Soderbergh score, though, these songs sound curiously like early Radiohead, a band that Gallagher notoriously rejects. There is something in these tracks that seems to say, “See? It ain’t that hard to sound pretty and arty like those smart guys. Trust me. I could do it if I wanted to. I can do anything.” Seems to me at least that Gallagher mostly proves that contention on “Who Built The Moon?” 

You don’t listen to Noel Gallagher’s songs for the lyrics. His words sometimes glitter. They mostly pop. They may not mean anything at all. But they sound great. And you don’t listen to Noel Gallagher songs for the drums or the keys or the strings. No. You listen to his songs to feel how big and loud the man can make Pop music sound. This pursuit is never not a fight. A fight with his brother. A fight with the press. A fight with the equipment. In this case, it was a different sort of fight. It was a full on, battle royale with a Producer who was heavier than Noel was. David Holmes was fighting like a young Andre The Giant this time. The weight was too much for the songwriter. Noel Gallagher battled expertly, showed us his tremendous skill and even some new moves. In the end, he could stand up with his arms raised from an epic, if marginal, defeat.

by Matty Wishnow