Tales from the middle of nowhere by General Dread.

On oasisinet.com Noel writes a mini diary whit his thoughts about whats happened in the oasis day by day. You have to register free to the page to read the complete article.

Here post the ones that appear until today (Sept. 8 2008), just to have a record about this and maybe in a future we can read this and remember the Noel mini diary.

Hiya kid.

So...I'm leaving home in London yesterday. Literally putting my bags in the car and this lad comes up to me.. "Can I get a quick picture?" he asks. "Dunno..CAN you?" says I. Anyway while his mate is taking a reasonably quick snap he informs me that he was one of the lucky ones to get tickets for our tour in October. "I hope you're not putting any of 'em on e-bay?" "No chance, mate" he says "I'm going with my granddad ..he fuckin' loves you lot!" JESUS CHRIST!!! I ask him how old his granddad is in the vain hope he might be freakishly young...like. say..50? "65" he says. "He's been into you lot since '94!!"

At Heathrow airport the righteous people of B.A. have upgraded everyone to 1st class except for tour dj Phil Smith who has been mysteriously downgraded to "premium economy" (whatever that is). Halfway through the flight I'm interrupted by one of the cabin crew who's laughing nervously saying, "Mr. Gallagher your brother seems to have collapsed in the aisle!" (YES! AT LAST!!!) And sure enough....there he is, face down in the aisle unconscious. "Shall I wake him?" asks the attendant. "Nah, leave him there..he's only looking for attention!" Somewhat predictably U.S. immigration nearly takes as long as the flight. I think the sight of a true, real life evil genius has the young officer flustered. No major drama though except one of my bags hasn't made it. THE BASTARD. Please don't let me suffer the indignity of shopping for undies on the morning of the gig the person who serves me is bound to be a fan! Seattle seems to have changed though (and for the better, I might add) since the last time we were here (whenever that was). Had a quick skip down the venue to check what the wizards have done with the lights for this tour. It looks pretty good, I must say. Fuck knows how we manage to afford all this stuff. Pink Floyd eat your heart out! Anyway gotta fly, I have an excruciatingly pointless interview to do…'til next time.

In a bit.

General Dread

So we arrive at the sound-check for the gig in Seattle and Jesus, you want to see this place! It’s supposed to be a warm up, it’s massive! The sound-check’s a bit shit really. Sounds like we’ve not played for 10 days (which we haven’t). The dressing room’s a joke. It looks like the inside of a big brother house. White fake leather sofas you can’t actually sit on as much as slouch about 4 inches off the floor AND a little Buddha surrounded by little fake flowers in a little fake fountain that makes you just want to go for a little fake piss. LUDICROUS! Someone’s taking this 60’s thing too far. Who do they think we used to be? Kula Shaker? Meet Matt Costa backstage (he’s a singer/songwriter!) He’s opening the show on this leg of the tour. And Ryan Adams, who’s wearing VERY stripy socks.

Me and Gem are nominated by our fellow housemates to do ANOTHER interview which turns out to be quite serious for a change. Does kind of make me feel like I’m in Radiohead though.

It gets to that weird time of the day where no one’s sure what to do with themselves. Most have gone for dinner (I don’t do dinner before a show; there’s something not quite right about playing rock’n’roll music on a full stomach), I’m going outside for a smoke. Run into a few fans who ask THE most annoying question – “can we get a quick picture?” (“Erm..dunno CAN you?”). They try emotional blackmail by informing me that they’ve come “all the way from St. Louis" (wherever that is). I tell them that that matters not a jot as I’ve come all the way from England, which is (as everyone knows) FUCKIN’MILES AWAY!! Matt Costa gets up and sings some songs that he wrote all by himself, two of which are pretty good. Ryan gets up and also sings some songs he wrote by himself but he plays them with his band The Cardinals. It’s really good (just my opinion!). As for us? We were ok. Alright. Not bad. I know we’ve done better gigs and I’m sure we’ll do worse.

Off to Canada tonight. Vancouver to be exact. 4 hours door to door it is. Not enough time to get really pissed. Never mind, it’s early days. There’s plenty of time for that. And yes, my missing bag did eventually turn up (thanks for asking).

In a bit.

General Dread.

I really shouldn’t moan but the venue in Vancouver holds 12,000 people! TWELVE THOUSAND!! I mean, if these are warm up shows then God only knows what kind of gigs we’ll be doing when the album comes out. Mind you, it makes for a great atmosphere. The gig itself? We smashed it. The crowd were fuckin’ amazing. We salute you Vancouver. There seems to be a problem with the rider; too much shit red wine and not enough vodka. This will not stand! We’re all on the bus tonight. 18 hours to Edmonton! EIGHTEEN HOURS!!! Now THAT is gonna involve some boozing. I’m proud to say there were still a couple of us going at it with vodka and Neu (70’s german rock) at 9.00am!! NOW THAT’S A DRINK.

Wake up at 4.00.pm. Feel horrific. We are literally driving across the middle of nowhere. Pull over at a truck stop for a belated breakfast. The gaff seems to be manned solely by 13 year old girls in identical black uniforms and sporting enormous smiles. It’s like we’ve stumbled into a Stephen King novel. Creepy. We order breakfast. What did I have you ask? Well, I had what any English gentleman worth his salt would have..fish and chips! Turns out we haven’t been lured to our death by the teenage waitresses. They’re on their school holidays. AND THEY CHOOSE TO WORK? Kids today, eh?

Back on the bus I notice I’ve got 26 messages on my phone. That usually means some famous person or other has got upset with my turn of phrase in an interview or something and my manager’s going ape-shit. Turns out it’s great news. SWP* has signed for Man City. What a coup! We might actually win something this time. The boys are up the front of the bus watching that film ‘Grizzly Man’. Think I’m gonna hang back here and watch the world go by. FEELING like a grizzly man.

In a bit.

General Dread.

* SWP: Shaun Wright Phillips

Day off today. Not much to do in Edmonton. They have the largest shopping mall in the western hemisphere though!! It’s that big it has a fuckin’ fake lake in it and a half sunken pirate ship!! Manage to catch that Barrack Obama’s speech to the Democratic rally. Impressive stuff. Spellbinding in fact. Wish he was one of ours. Why do Americans believe they’re electing the president of THE WORLD though?

Me and Sharrock head out for a Chinese (any day that starts with fish and chips for breakfast and ends with a Chinese for tea is a glorious day!) The thing inside my fortune cookie has these numbers on the back 9, 24, 31, 35, 38 and 49 (you can have them) and this cryptic message on the front: ‘YOU WILL SOON WITNESS A MIRACLE” We’ll see, eh?

In a bit.

General Dread.

Woke up to a beautiful sunny day today in Edmonton. Didn’t get nearly enough kip though. This jet-lag’s a fucker. There seems to be a wedding party milling around the bar in the hotel so a couple of us jib outside to the terrace for tea and cigarettes. We’re discussing another player (who we’ve never heard of) who’s just signed for City (he’s an Argentinian. I predict fireworks!) Some old lady approaches us to ask if we’d mind doing a “quick picture” with the bride and groom! “Erm..no, I don’t think so” (who do they think we are? Robbie Williams?) “Oh, go on, the bride will be heartbroken”. “Good”, I think to myself and off we go to the venue.

Ryan Adams was good tonight. Even Liam’s having him and he hates everything! Our gig was great. Just wish I was in better shape to enjoy it. Still a bit fucked from the other nights session on the bus. We left immediately after the gig. It’s what’s commonly known as “doing the Elvis”. Andy and his iPod are shuffling on the bus. It’s all good. Jimi Hendrix’s “Spanish Castle Magic” and Hawkwind’s “Silver Machine” are the highlights for me. I even turn a blind ear to some Beach Boys tune or other (told you I wasn’t feeling myself!)

No sign of the miracle I’m supposed to witness soon. Saying that, someone did throw their bra onstage tonight! Or could it be that we’ve just seen the 1st English paper since we left home. Apparently Margaret Thatcher’s got dementia! The lord moves in mysterious ways, eh?

In a bit.

General Dread.

That hotel in Calgary was like something out of that film, “The Shining”: massive and virtually empty. There was ANOTHER wedding party going on! It must be that time of year. The gig tonight is at a place called the Saddledrome. It’s a fuckin’ rodeo arena and it’s shaped like a saddle (hence the name!) Ryan Adams has really surprised everyone so far. Didn’t think he’d be this good. Our show was brilliant. Everything is beginning to click now. Again there were a lot of people for a warm up. 13,000! Great crowd though. No undies onstage this time but good crack all the same. This gig in Calgary will go down in history as the first ever Oasis gig where there was NO ONE on the guest list!

In the dressing room the traditional debate has started about “The Top 10”. This means the top 10 bands of all time. No solo artists allowed. No female artists allowed. No collectives allowed (Public Enemy etc.) This is the 1,000th time we’ve been here with this. It never gets any less interesting for me. For the record, THE DEFINITIVE top 10 is this..

1. The Beatles
2. The Rolling Stones
3. The Who
4. The Sex Pistols
5. The Kinks
6. The La’s
7. Pink Floyd
8. The Bee Gees
9. The Specials
10. Peter Green’s Fleetwood Mac

End of.

Someone’s forgotten to bring the Laurel & Hardy box-set for the bus. We have to make do with watching “The Rutles 2”! It’s shit, by the way.

Tonight is a 17 hour drive to Winnipeg, the birthplace of Neil Young. My liver is shitting itself! Wish me luck.

In a bit.

General Dread

Forgot to mention. Did a couple of interviews yesterday. One with a guy who looked EXACTLY like Woody Harrelson. And one with some guitar magazine. They’re funny those guitar mags, unless you’re into discussing the science of guitar sound. The questions are always ludicrous. Example:

Q: “Describe to me the guitars you used on this new record.”
A: “Erm..one was red and one was blonde!? Are you gonna ask me what my favourite string is too?”
Q: “You have a favourite STRING!?”
A: “Yep..the ‘e’ string”
Q: “Why?”
A: “Cos there’s 2 of ‘em!”
Q: “Really!?”


The journey is quite uneventful really. Had a little drink. Talked a lot of shit. Got some kip. Handsome! Pulled into some truck stop for breakfast. I love truck stops, you never know if you’re gonna meet a preacher or a serial killer. This one is pure David Lynch gear, old and deserted. Ask the waitress for 7 menus. She looked at us like it was the 1st time she’d been asked for 7 of anything in her life! The restaurant / bar area has a little dance floor and a stage at one end and a speak your weight machine at the other! What the fuck? Shit food and all. It’s a small price to pay though. The rest of the boys have flown rather than brave the bus. I’ve never understood that. This is the whole point of touring. Staring out the window, watching the world go by.

We’re supposed to be going out for dinner tonight with Ryan and The Cardinals. Should get to know them a bit better. They seem like most Americans you meet who are in bands, pretty cool. The weather’s been strangely warm. Looking forward to tomorrow.

In a bit.

General Dread.

Fuck me!! That fortune cookie actually worked. Woke up to 19 text messages. Man City have been bought out by an Arab prince! Rock the fuckin’ Casbah! They’re buying everything that moves in the transfer market. It’s beautiful madness. WE MUST ALL BOW TO THE NEW MECCA OF ENGLISH FOOTBALL, THE MIDDLE-EASTLANDS!!! What a way to start the day. Breakfast has never tasted so good (even if was shit!)

It was boiling hot here yesterday. Today it’s fuckin’ freezing. How can that be? I’m reading in the local press that Gerry and the Pacemakers are in town next week!! Got ‘Walk On’’ in my head now, or is it called “You’ll Never Walk Alone”? Either way, what a tune.

Only 7,000 people tonight. Feels more like a warm up. Crowd are a bit subdued. Maybe they’re leaving some in the tank for Gerry, eh?

To be honest, the gig pales into insignificance against the news coming out of Manchester. It is simply staggering. For our club to go from being a laughing stock to the richest club in England in a matter of moments is ludicrous!! AND WE’VE SIGNED ROBINHO!!! It’s like the end of the world or summat. We celebrate accordingly. And get on this.. the iPod’s on shuffle, and guess what tune comes on as we’re toasting the Arabs? A tune by Jackson C. Frank called “The Blues Run The Game’! Perfect.

In a bit.

General Dread.

P.S – The gig got 3.5 stars in the Winnipeg Free Press. THAT’S NEARLY 4!! (and that’s almost perfect)

Ryan Adams has described the light show as looking like ELO with fangs! I’m not sure what it means, but I like it. Does anyone listen to the Russell Brand show? I only ask because some people in the crowd have been singing that little jingle he plays before I appear on his show (you know the one). It’s become fairly amusing for me and confusing for everyone else. Keep it up, I like it.

We’re getting a flight to Montreal today. It’s too far to drive! 20-odd hours apparently. Meet ANOTHER married couple at the airport.

“Can we get a quick picture?”
“Oh, please. We’re your biggest fans but missed your show last night because of the wedding.”
“Definitely no chance. That’s just rude. You could’ve got married any day of the week, but we won’t be playing Winnipeg again, so do one.”

The flight is 2 and a bit hours long. Just enough time to watch that film that Martin Scorsese made about them Rolling Stones. If you haven’t seen it, you should check it out. It’s fuckin’ ludicrous.

Q Magazine is out in the UK, I believe. I hope whatever’s been said comes across alright. Although it’s inconceivable that some fucker won’t take offence to something. I apologise now if that IS the case.

Montreal is a strange place. Everything is French: menus, street signs, shop signs, tv channels.

Got a day off tomorrow but we’re doing a photo shoot. Now, you may not know this but I fuckin’ HATE having my photo taken. It’s mind-numbingly boring. I’d much rather be working properly. I like doing interviews and playing, see? Off for a Chinese with Phil and Steve (Headline Security Ltd) who’s basically a fuckin’ comedian who looks after us. Wonder what’ll be in the fortune cookie tonight! It’ll probably be in French anyway.

Au revoir

Le General

Bonjour, n’all that. Didn’t get a fortune cookie last night. What a swizz! It’s boiling hot here today. Humid though. The photo session was (unlike most others) pretty painless. Just how we like it. Bang, bang! In-out, put the kettle on.

Somebody mentioned the ‘B’ word today! That’s outrageous, I never heard of hearing such a thing!! This isn’t a blog. A blog is for someone who’s got no mates (I’ve got more than a dozen, and that’s a fact) or who’s in a band that no one can remember hearing of. And in any case, one has to have a computer to have a blog, innit? These messages are being sent by text. I also believe a couple of these have found their way into the national press and that NME. Do me a favour will you, you media slags? Mind your own fuckin’ business and let the rest of us chat amongst ourselves.

Now, where were we? Oh yes.. City’s new owner has just announced the players he intends to buy. “The dream team”. I won’t list them. That lot from Stretford have had enough for 1 week. I will say this though, every gallon of delicious petrol you mob buy for your second-hand Ford Escorts, from now on will eventually end up in our transfer budget.

Bon voyage, lads (as they say round these parts!)


Not a great deal going on today, droogs. Seems to be one of those days. The gig’s in Ottawa. It’s a 2 hour drive from Montreal (if anyone’s interested). Stopped for fast food on the way (if anyone’s interested). Some of the troops are failing. Someone’s got tennis elbow. Someone’s got water on the knee and someone’s had to have a tooth out. It’s getting like Dad’s Army!!

A journalist informed us before the gig that the crowd might be a bit quiet as they’re not sure of what they’re supposed to do! (Her words, not mine). Turns out they weren’t too bad. Neither were we. Done the Elvis after the show. Not much going on after.

Watched that John McCain’s speech at the Republican rally on the bus on the way back to Montreal. I’ve never seen so many fuckin’ balloons! Some buffoon held up a placard during his speech that said simply “Mavrick”!! That’s right, MAVRICK!! Obviously the subtlety of the spelling of the word “maverick” had been lost on them. Says it all really.


Fuck!! The heat. It's oppressive. We've got a photo-shoot today AND it's outside. HORRIFIC. The sky-lord is arriving tonight from England via New York. Should make for a good solid drink-up.

Ryan got up with us at the soundcheck. He's been bugging us to play "Roll With It" for him and as r-kid doesn't do soundchecks Ryan stood in on vocals.

Gig was good. The crowd were really good. An amazing thing happened on stage (and if you were there you would've witnessed this). Our bass player vanished into thin air!

One of the girls from our office in London arrives with the news that there's no news from back home.

The drink-up is good and solid.

7 hours on the bus to Toronto. Get to the hotel and who's in reception? Jimmy Page! I fuckin' love Jimmy Page. We hugged it out for breakfast.

It's raining. I'm off to my bed.

In a bit.


Not much happening today. Did I mention I bumped into Jimmy Page? We only ever seem to cross paths when I'm hammered.

By the way.. has anyone seen that YouTube footage of Lee Mavers hanging out with Pete Doherty? BONGOS!!!