Pitchfork

While reading a recent Blender article on the Killers, I was suddenly hit with a wave of bittersweet nostalgia. In the piece, Brandon Flowers espouses his rock star ideals. "You want to see a god onstage," said the singer. "You want to see something larger than life and unattainable. I was like, 'I could do that.'" Thing is, he can't do that. At all. But Oasis most certainly could and did in their mid-90s heyday. And most of this contract-fulfilling 2xCD best-of reinforces the Manchester-bred group's best qualities: brashness, swagger, and melodies for miles.

The compilation also upholds the sad-but-true notion that the Gallaghers & Co. haven't come up with a great tune in nearly a decade. In their wake have been plenty of pretenders repolishing classic rock gems for a new century (Jet, Wolfmother, Kings of Leon), but none can match Noel's keen ear or Liam's indelible bleat. And whereas Flowers' arrogance is empty and halfhearted, Oasis's bravado sounded like gospel to this suburban teen reading imported Brit mags on a Barnes & Noble bench. And, most important, they had a plethora of era-defining songs to back up much of their hot air.

Stop the Clocks largely proves what fans already know: Oasis were at their best when they were coming up from the bottom. Their 1994-95 ascendancy fittingly provides the retrospective with nearly 80% of its material. Both Definitely Maybe and (What's the Story) Morning Glory? are represented with five tracks a piece, while four B-sides from the era also appear. Though classics like "Rock 'N' Roll Star" and "Cigarettes & Alcohol" have come to represent clichéd ideas of stardom and its vices, those songs were originally written from the outside looking in. Liam is given triumphant lines based on figments rather than reality: "In my mind my dreams are real," he snarls, willing his hopes toward actuality over the band's spiky Led Zeppelin crunch.

Fearless optimism reins on the group's best-ever track, "Live Forever", a quasi-reaction to the nihilism of grunge. Talking about the song in an excellent "this is your life"-style 40-minute interview included on Stop the Clocks' deluxe edition DVD, Noel dismisses some of Kurt Cobain's heroin-laced diatribes while backing up the careful hope of his signature track: "That was a guy that had everything and was miserable. We had fuck all and I still thought getting up in the morning was the greatest fuckin' thing ever 'cause you didn't know where you'd end up at night." Such escapism and idealist wonder found blissful haven inside Oasis's finest tracks. "I dream of you-- and all the things you say/ I wonder where you are now?" sings Liam on the blustery distortion ballad "Slide Away", once again reiterating the band's romanticism.

Aside from the inclusion of obviously lesser post-1996 tracks-- which stick out clumsily amidst the undisputed greats-- and the minor squabbles that are sure to arise over which B-sides Noel left out, the collection's most controversial point has to be the exclusion of anything from the group's coke-fueled third album, Be Here Now. While that infamously excessive LP was a clear step down from previous heights, it's also more ambitious and tuneful than any album they've released since. Tracks like the crushing, murky epic "D'You Know What I Mean", swelling heartbreaker "Don't Go Away" or underrated burner "I Hope, I Think, I Know" blow away Stop the Clocks skippables like "Lyla" and "Go Let It Out". (And to Noel's credit, there are no new songs included as shameless sales-boosters.)

In the DVD interview, Noel recounts how Creation Records founder Alan McGee didn't want to put "The Masterplan" out as a B-side in 1995 because it was "too good." "I don't write shit songs," Noel remembers saying, before he checks himself: "Fast forward about three years, and I'm fucking, 'Can we put 'Masterplan' out as a single?'." After their initial astonishing run of hits, Oasis reached their bacchanalian rock nirvana and had no idea what to do next. Instead of exploring new sounds and styles like their Fab Four heroes once did, the group fell into a repetitive AC/DC rut by trying to recreate past glories without the striving drive that originally gave them life. Oasis only made two essential albums, so while its song selection is generally wise, this double-disc rewind is totally unnecessary for both casual fans and die-hards alike. But, for a fading, much loved band, it's also a necessary evil. At least Liam has a sense of humor about it-- in the accompanying video chat, he jokes, "Hopefully we'll be able to do another one and really fucking milk it."