“The Masterplan” is not an album. At least not in the typical sense. It’s a collection of b-sides, recorded between 1994-97 during sessions for the band’s proper albums of this period. The songs featured on “The Masterplan” were deemed not good enough to make the final cut. Instead, they were used to accompany singles from the band’s first three albums, playing also-ran to songs that would become generational anthems. Pitchfork essentially called “The Masterplan” a cash grab by “quickly fading toss-pots.” Rolling Stone gave it an unflattering review. By all accounts, these should be nails in the coffin. Instead, “The Masterplan” is kind of a masterpiece.
Time does a lot of things. It’s said to heal all wounds, and if this axiom applies to “The Masterplan”, then that would explain it’s recent re-evaluation. Over twenty-five years have passed since “The Masterplan” was released, enough time at least for Oasis to have gone through the pop-culture wringer: Gods (self-appointed, of course) of pop music who were later relegated to mere giants, who were then demoted to laughing stocks and then quietly forgotten about. Of course, I’m taking the US paradigm here, whereas the Brothers Gallagher were never really forgotten about in the UK, just as long as Liam stayed in the press for calling Noel a fucking potato. Yet during this time period, on both sides of the pond, the music stood and spoke for itself. While the indestructible monolith of Oasis began to crumble, what stood in its wake proved that they were indeed worth the hype.
Just look at “The Masterplan” for evidence of Oasis’ songwriting skill. Better yet, look at the band’s recent set-lists. Embarking on their 2025 reunion tour, Oasis’ most recent show, as of this writing, boasts 5 songs from “The Masterplan”. That’s nearly a quarter of the entire gig. You don’t fuck around with reunion shows. There’s rarely room for fat or anything that isn’t a well-worn staple of a band’s songbook. It’s a testament to the strength of the songs on “The Masterplan” that they made it to these summer-defining shows.
Songs that fit nicely into arena-sized shows are one thing, but a b-side album that feels less like a hodgepodge mix and more of a cohesive whole is a huge accomplishment. That’s the magic of “The Masterplan”: these songs feel like they belong next, around, and with each other. Like a carefully curated mix tape, the moods and melodies of “The Masterplan” flow ceaselessly. How this is accomplished puts us in the crosshairs of perhaps an uncomfortable truth: Oasis were very, very good.
I don’t always like good. Once something becomes “not bad” and heads in the direction of its next goal, “serviceable”, it then blossoms from its cocoon and enters the world of “good.” Here is where taste comes in. We, as individuals, all have a different pallet and profile that makes up what we deem as good. To my ears “The Masterplan” is very good. But some things that are very good rub me the wrong way. Maybe very good has too much polish, too much intent, too much objective goodness that it becomes bland. Depending on your day, bland can be okay. Maybe you had not enough sleep the night before or haven’t eaten all day; something along the lines of bland won’t be found all that offensive. But bland does nothing exciting. Bland doesn’t move the needle. “The Masterplan” is so very good that it feels like each song, to use the band’s vocabulary, digs into your soul. Is that histrionic and cringy? We wouldn’t be talking about Oasis if it wasn’t.
“The Masterplan” has developed a renewed reputation of being cool. If your favorite Oasis album is “The Masterplan”, that shows you have keen taste for the obscure and are just shy of admitting you sometimes don’t skip “Wonderwall.” This is a good place to be in. If you see Oasis live, undoubtedly your favorite moment will be if/when they open with “Acquiesce” or slow things down with “Half The World Away.” You can take solace in knowing your favorite band, one of the biggest pop acts of the past thirty years, has played something special, just for you. That’s what “The Masterplan” feels like: a special set of songs, just for you.
I love recommending “The Masterplan.” I love playing it on long drives. I love admitting I usually skip “The Swamp Song” and “I Am The Walrus”, because the next track is “Listen Up” and that fucking slaps. I love the notion that a collection of near-misses and after-thoughts can be held as a whole and celebrated. “The Masterplan” is not a failure, but rather a declaration that putting the effort into something is worth it, even if the outcome isn’t what you wanted. That might not be what the Gallagher brothers had in mind for “The Masterplan”, but that’s my takeaway. Listen up.