When Liam Gallagher first encountered the delightful nuggets of musical genius penned by John Squire for their hit parade collaboration, he had a twin revelation: the songs were “banging,” a profound insight, and that he had a sixth sense for belting them out, given his history of crooning Squire’s tunes since he was barely taller than his mic stand.
“You’ve got to remember, I’m a massive Stone Roses fan,” Gallagher proclaims from a cozy studio in Kentish Town, north London. It’s not exactly a Captain Obvious moment, but he insists, “They were my gateway drug into the band world, so the rhythms? I’ve been marinating in them.” He quickly adds, “It’s not like I’m taking a stab at Trent Reznor from Nine Inch Nails. Let’s not kid ourselves; it’s not all a walk in the park. I just make it look effortless, like a cat landing on its feet.”
The partnership was heralded with the psychedelic earworm “Just Another Rainbow,” serving as the anthem for two of Manchester’s most illustrious rock legends: John Squire, the timeless wizard behind the guitar of the Stone Roses, and Liam Gallagher, the Oasis frontman who epitomized the wild optimism of the ‘90s. If you’re not donning a bewildering hairstyle or a pair of Adidas Sambas, fear not; this union is symbolic enough to give us goosebumps: “Just Another Rainbow” shot itself straight to No. 1 on the midweek charts and was likely vying for first place by the time you finished your morning coffee.
This dreamy partnership took off after Squire made a guest appearance at Gallagher’s colossal Knebworth shows in 2022, which Gallagher interpreted as an open invitation to collaborate. He eagerly accepted with two requests: make it guitar-heavy and let Squire handle all the lyrical gymnastics. “Why overcomplicate things?” Gallagher quips. “Sitting around a conference table plotting strategies feels more like a real estate meeting than rock’n’roll.” The pair had previously dabbled in collaboration with a track for Squire’s band, the Seahorses, but the details are as foggy as Gallagher’s memory after a few pints.
Text conversations danced between them like a couple of excited teenagers. Squire shared demos, and Gallagher responded by sending him YouTube links to an eclectic mix of artists, from the Sex Pistols to the Bee Gees. “When I sent him a demo that sounded like a cat in a blender, he shot back with a Bee Gees song,” Squire remembers, initially convinced Gallagher was pulling his leg. Turns out, Gallagher was just trying to establish a specific vibe, not hinting at a tropical disco revival.
After a couple of months of remote recording, Gallagher, now embracing the lifestyle of a jet-setter, headed over to Squire’s quaint Macclesfield studio in May 2023. Fast forward four months, and they found themselves in sunny Los Angeles, laying down ten tracks quicker than you can say “reunion tour.” The musical lineup included Greg Kurstin, an accomplished producer, along with Joey Waronker on drums, and they aimed to avoid the dreaded “mechanical sound”—you know, that overly polished vibe that screams, “This was made in a laboratory by robots.” Squire cheekily comments, “Perfection is subjective, ya know? Sometimes a bit of sloppiness adds character.”
The end product? A delightful blend of breezy psychedelic blues that sounds like a glorious jam between Squire’s mellifluous guitar and Gallagher’s vocals that soar higher than his usual growl. The album even features a tear-jerking closer titled “Mother Nature’s Song,” proving that Gallagher can still tug at heartstrings—something Squire admits has made him cry for the first time since he wrote “I Wanna Be Adored.”
When the topic of lyrical vetoes arises, Squire laughs it off; Gallagher, on the other hand, bristles. “If there was the slightest hint of lyrical mishap, I’d have called him out on it! Yet when the lyrics hit my inbox, it felt like me,” he asserts, revealing a slightly softer side through the bravado he wears like a coat. Dressed in his signature parka, he comes off as the unlikely philosopher pondering the current state of music, lamenting the lack of teamwork among artists today. “It’s all solo acts these days,” he complains. “Where’s the camaraderie? It’s like watching a bunch of cats fight over the last sardine!”
