Other day, I was dragging my sand-filled shoes through the desert wasteland known as commercial alternative rock, the sun beating on me like a sadist with a whip, my brow the only moist thing in sight. I spotted in the distance some really pompous British guys with guitars who wouldn't give me the time of day, let alone water from their canteens. Some fucking oasis.

These were the rudest folks I'd met in my entire life, and somehow when they turned up the amplifiers, I couldn't resist their instantly memorable rock music. Realising I'd heard this stuff somewhere before (whether it be from their last two albums or old Beatles records), I started to feel guilty. Then I decided. Fuck it.

Oasis' third record, Be Here Now is, predictably, a lot like Definitely Maybe and even more like What's The Story, Morning Glory, but with a lot more pomp. What were formally unforgettable three- to- four minute pop slices are now six- to- ten minute long epics. It's like "Champagne Supernova" altered the course of their journey toward Edgar Winters' part of the universe.

Regardless of whether or not it's "cool" to like them (they're certainly not as safe- to- like as some of my other pleasures, Yo La Tengo or Nick Drake), "D'You Know What I Mean," Be Here Now's first single, is the catchiest song of the year. So take your holier- than- thou, elitist musical tastes and sod off -- Oasis are cool in my book.

-Ryan "Defensive Man" Schreiber