Oasis definitely maybe will make it

(Aug. 4, 1994)

This is the story of five musicians from Manchester, England, who formed a crunchy guitar band, did their time on the pub circuit and ventured to Glasgow, Scotland, for a gig where the president of Creation Records (home to The Boo Radleys and Primal Scream) just happened to be in the audience. He quickly signed them to a label deal.

They recorded their first single, "Supersonic." It cracked the U.K. chart at No. 31, and a week later, promptly vanished.

"We were quite happy with that," said lead guitarist and songwriter Noel Gallagher. "We thought a Top 40 single for a new band from England was pretty much unheard of in the last five years."

End of story? Not yet. The follow-up single, a psychedelic jam called "Shakermaker," caught them all by surprise. It peaked at No. 11 nationally. They went from playing in front of 150 people in smoke-filled pubs to 2,000-capacity venues in four months. Along the way, they became the new darlings of the self-important British press.

Oasis is ready to take on America on Aug. 23 with its first album, "Definitely Maybe" (on Epic). Gallagher likes their chances stateside.

"That's one of the great attributes about America, you're not interested in what's what and what's not," he said. "Any band in the whole world can come to America and have a hit single."

BWF (before we forget): Oasis definitely made it. "Definitely Maybe" attained gold status and reached No. 58 on Billboard's pop chart, while the follow-up, "(What's the Story) Morning Glory?" reached No. 4 in 1996 and sold more than 3 million copies, powered by the Top 10 single "Wonderwall." Their third album, "Be Here Now," peaked at No. 2 in September 1997. ... Be here now with Oasis on the Web @ www.oasisinet.com.

John Oates goes to the MAX for TV music service

(April 7, 1994)

Sit back and relax, John Oates thought to himself, it's just another boring cross-country flight.

Don't even bother to buy the headsets. Throw the honey-roasted peanuts into the briefcase and catch some shut-eye.

But something was in the air that day for one-half of the rock era's No. 1 charting duo, Daryl Hall & John Oates.

"I'm sitting next to this guy for like three and a half hours, and we didn't say a word to each other," the New York native says. "Then near the end of the flight, as we were about to land, he pulled out a Car & Driver magazine. Since I like cars, we just struck up a conversation.

"In about 15 minutes, he asked what I did and I asked him what he did. Turns out he was involved in direct-response television and I was in the music business, obviously.

"He said, 'Boy, we should get together and do something.' And I said, 'Sure.' He handed me a card and I handed him mine; we called each other and started batting around ideas."

Oates and his new partner, award-winning producer J.W. Roth, originally had a concept of using direct-response TV to break new artists. They met with record labels, all of whom were enthusiastic, Oates says. With that mandate in mind, they drew up a proposal, only instead of concentrating on one artist, they would create a "televised record store."

"MAXMUSIC" was born.

With four one-hour shows already in the can and more on the way, Oates and Roth are launching "MAXMUSIC" on April 16 via E! Entertainment Television and Jones Intercable Systems.

Hosted by Bill Curry and Leeann Viera and produced in Denver, "MAXMUSIC" - with its main focus on classic rock from the '70s and '80s - mixes live and taped interviews and performances with videos, music trivia, memorabilia, and of course, an 800-number so viewers can order CDs and cassettes at competitive rates (most CDs cost $11.98, cassettes $8.98).

Nashville certainly isn't left out. A "MAXCOUNTRY" version is in the works and could pop up anytime on TNN. And Oates and Roth haven't given up on that original idea of breaking new artists. They're developing a format to do just that.

Is all this a glorified infomercial? Well, yes, it's in that genre, Oates says, but "MAXMUSIC" has entertainment value and admittedly its purpose is to sell music.

"We are a record store on television," he says, "except instead of the guy behind the counter staring at you and pressing the cash register keys, our hosts are kinda funny."

Any Hall & Oates news to report?

"No, not really. We're still together but not together," Oates says chuckling.

Actually, Hall is finishing up a solo tour, and there's talk of a box set with some new material later this year.

BWF (before we forget): Hall and Oates are back together again. They resurfaced in September 1997 with "Marigold Sky," their first album of new material in seven years (on BMG-distributed Push Records). ... Visit them on the Web @ www.pushrecords.com or send e-mail to: inbox@pushrecords.com.

Dillon O'Brian stands confessed on his own

(Dec. 8, 1994)

So you want to be a rock 'n' roll star?

It was Dillon O'Brian's childhood dream. But, after the Baltimore native became a staff songwriter in the 1980s, he "outgrew the need to be adored."

He still doesn't hunger for idolatry, but he couldn't fight the inevitable: He's a solo artist now, with an vibrant debut album, "Scenes From My Last Confession" (RCA).

"What happened with me is, there came a time when my demos for other artists got good enough that the labels would say, 'What's this guy doing as an artist? This guy should be an artist.'

"That kind of put the thought back into my head," O'Brian says. "I love hearing other people do my tunes, but I got in a situation where I heard a cover of a cover. I heard someone cover a Temptations cover of one of my songs, and it got further away from the source of the tune."

O'Brian remains a staff writer for Barry Mann and Cythnia Weil. His songs have been recorded by Ringo Starr, Joe Cocker and Paul Young, among others. He also enjoys singing backup for other artists.

Now the focus is on him, at centerstage. With "Scenes," he wears his heart on his sleeve, bearing his soul on an intensely personal level.

"When I actually got down to doing the record, I thought to myself, 'I can't do a record where one song has nothing to do with the next song,' " he says. "I really wanted it to have a beginning, a middle and an end.

"It's kind of a story of how Catholicism and any form of organized religion, in my case growing up Catholic and going to Catholic school, it really made me behave a certain way in my life.

"I had gotten to the point where I didn't believe in anything, but ... then when my wife and I had a kid, I was walking out of my studio one day and he was walking toward me and looked at me. Something happened ... I looked at this kid and our eyes connected. Something came over me that made me realize there's a whole lot more going on here than protoplasm."

That revelation pulled him out of his fog and fueled heartfelt tracks like "Something Almost Sacred," "Roots and Wings" and "My Father's Son."

O'Brian says he deliberately set out to make a "non-radio album," making it earthy and intimate. That hasn't scared away several West Coast stations, which are emphasizing those three tracks.

Through it all, whether he breaks it big or not, O'Brian sticks by his philosophy: "Writers survive, artists come and go."

October Project discovers a sound all its own

(Dec. 2, 1993)

If Emil Adler didn't know any better, he could swear an Italian journalist was insulting his group, October Project.

In Chicago for a recent Sony International conference, Adler and his bandmates were "meeting and greeting" with the label honchos and foreign press. One writer, upon hearing October Project's self-titled debut Epic album, didn't mince any words with Adler.

"You're the most un-American band I've ever heard."

Taken aback, Adler stared at the writer with a puzzled look and replied, "What does that mean? What country do we sound like we're from?"

"He didn't know," Adler said, laughing as he recalled the brief encounter. "He said it was a different vibe and not the kind he expected from America. I asked him if he thought we sounded like we're from Ireland, because some people think we sound like some of the Celtic bands. He said, 'No, it's not as folk-oriented.' "

Fortunately, someone changed the subject, and Adler continued on in his genial way. Still, the conversation with the Italian writer left him baffled.

"Well, for one thing, I'd hate to make comparisons myself about how we sound," Adler said, "because if they show up in print, the other band members will lay me on the ground and walk all over me.

"I'll tell you this, we all listened to a lot of the Beatles - whatever that means."

That's as close as you will get in cornering Adler on October Project's grandiose, synthesizer-dominated flair for pop. The leadoff single, "Bury My Lovely," would make Phil Spector proud. Singer Mary Fahl's haunting alto and Adler's melodic touch put a twist on Julie Flanders' delicate lyrics.

"Julie won't say exactly what inspired the song," Adler said, "and she won't get too specific. When I first read the lyrics, I thought it was a song about child abuse, and she says, 'Well, it's a song about a tragedy sort of remembered by an adult."

October Project, up from its home base at New York's Cafe Sin-E, is a unique collaboration: Fahl provides the voice, Adler composes the music and Flanders finds the words.

Adler calls it a miracle.

"Getting three people together to do anything is unbelievable," he said, laughing again. "You know how you just want to go to a bar or a restaurant, and it's like landing at Normandy? The logistics are horrible.

"To get five people, or six usually, together in this situation, it was like, 'how is this happening?' We must be in the same place at the same time, and luckily so. We're of the same mind at the same moment."

Fahl and Flanders met through mutual friends, while Adler and guitarist David Sabatino operated a recording studio in New Jersey. Somehow they converged, and after one listen to Fahl's distinctive vocals, Adler knew where they were headed.

First, they had to come up with a group name.

"It's a mundane story, really," Adler said. "When we got together, we all got the notion we wanted to play out in clubs beginning in October, and we hadn't come up with a band name yet, so we were putting all our ideas, all the songs and notes into a folder marked 'the October Project.'

"When it came time to come up with names, there were tons of suggestions and then the folder came up. It's a great name because October is a season of when things die, there's transformation. It's beautiful. Those thoughts of the season were what we were arriving at with the sound of the band."

BWF (before we forget): October Project's follow-up album, "Falling Further In," charted briefly in, appropriately, October 1995.