Smoke clears, voice remains
Like a memory that never asked to be recalled, I Have All I Need finds its beat. The chords are soft, the rhythm is slow, and Liam Gallagher sings as if the world finally granted him a tranquil place. His tone, free from arrogance, conveys something gentle and unfinished. The foundation is the warmth of the piano; the song strides on it bare feet, every stride deliberate, every word left to hang in the air.
On As You Were, an album that signalled Liam’s comeback not as a front guy but as a solo persona, it came out. The track eloquently captures that loneliness. Its lines drift with the serenity of someone who no longer has to show anything. In New York, there’s a reference of a meeting with Yoko Ono, a moment real or dreamed, softly woven into the composition of the song. That encounter with legend does not come like dropping names. One feels a thread woven into a bigger tapestry, one stretching well beyond Manchester.
Liam has often asserted a close relationship with The Beatles, and here it shows without simulation. More than any Oasis song ever did, the guitar textures and gentle orchestrating reflect the spirituality of All Things Must Pass. Still, nothing feels borrowed. Every sound belongs to Gallagher’s version that surfaced following the storm: muted, a little worn, but constant.
I didn’t want to be reinventing anything or going off on a space jazz odyssey. It’s the Lennon “Cold Turkey” vibe, The Stones, the classics. But done my way, now.
(Liam Gallagher, Consequence of Sound, 2017)
When “All I Need” hit listeners in 2017, it had no headlines or slogans. Among supporters who had matured alongside it, it moved at its own speed. Though the track didn’t shout, it lingered. Like they return to particular locations that feel unchanging, people came back to it. It established itself among people looking less noise, more breath, and songs that felt lived in.
Once Liam said this was his greatest achievement. Maybe he is right. The song doesn’t seek closure. It allows. It exists in between, not looking either light nor shadow. And for someone molded by stadiums and madness, I’ve All I Need stands like a last cigarette on a balcony just before the door shuts.
