Before the drugs, the infighting, and the legend, there was this: a debut album so confident it sounds like a greatest hits. Definitely Maybe is the sound of five lads from Manchester who believed they were the best band in the world—and then proved it. From the opening crunch of “Rock ‘n’ Roll Star” to the cosmic closer “Married with Children,” the album reeks of Lennon swagger and T. Rex stomp. Key tracks: Live Forever (a defiant anti-grunge anthem), Supersonic (effortless cool), and Cigarettes & Alcohol (the working-class manifesto). It remains the fastest-selling debut in UK history for a reason. The Colossus: The Album That Conquered the World

After the departure of founding members Bonehead and Guigsy, Oasis entered the new millennium leaner but lost. Giants is a weird, hazy, psychedelic comedown. It lacks the anthems, but it has mood. “Go Let It Out” is a funky strut, “Gas Panic!” is a genuinely dark, paranoid masterpiece about Noel’s anxiety and drug abuse, and “Where Did It All Go Wrong?” is painfully self-aware. It’s the sound of a band realizing the party is over. Underrated, but for diehards only. The Consolidation: Back to Basics

Noel declared this a return to “rawk” after the studio trickery of Giants . The result is a mixed bag: half classic Oasis, half forgettable filler. The singles are strong: “The Hindu Times” is a locomotive riff, “Stop Crying Your Heart Out” is a soaring, sad-bastard anthem, and “Little by Little” is a Noel solo track in all but name. But Liam’s songwriting attempts (“Songbird”) are charmingly slight, and the album tracks sink without trace. It’s the sound of a band going through the motions, albeit with occasional brilliance. The Late-Career Resurgence: Growing Up (Sort Of)

The most anticipated album since Nevermind . The result? A 70-minute wall of cocaine-logged guitars, endless choruses, and lyrics written on hotel notepads at 4 AM. Be Here Now is a mess—a glorious, exhausting, ridiculous mess. Songs like “D’You Know What I Mean?” and “Stand by Me” have great bones, but they’re buried under a dozen guitar overdubs and seven-minute runtimes. For years, Noel called it “the sound of a band on coke, not giving a fuck.” Time has been kind to its sheer, stupid ambition. It’s a guilty pleasure and a warning sign. The Recalibration: A Band Losing Its Way

No band captured the messy, glorious, arrogant thrill of youth quite like Oasis. Their discography is a biography: starting as a spark, exploding into a supernova, then slowly collapsing under its own gravity. And what a beautiful collapse it was.