What's the story? OASIS

ALL the world loves a rascal, and they don't come more roguish than Oasis. Just look at their behaviour at last Monday's Brit Awards in London's Earl's Court, where they won Best Band, Best Album and Best Video. Sauntering on to the stage with studied indifference, the band showed their ingratitude by insulting swearing and leering, and even miming the act of sodomy. And the music biz moguls with their pony tails and mobile phones lapped it all up. Why? Because it reminded them of the good old days when all rock stars were mad, bad and dangerous to know.

Unfortunately, the television moguls had managed to trim most of Oasis's indiscretions by the time the programme was shown on UTV the next night, so the good people at home were given a heavily edited glimpse of the Bratpop revival in action.

Rock `n' roll has always had its fair share of loutish and laddish behaviour, and the careers of 1960s bands such as the Stones, The Who and Led Zeppelin are dotted with tales of excessive acts, extreme antics and just plain pig ignorant rudeness. Of late, however, rock monster misdemeanours have become rare eruptions in a usually dormant volcano, and when sparks do fly, the media hasten to the crater like eager boy scouts. Ironically, it's often the same media who lament the demise of good old rock `n' roll rebellion.

When Noel Gallagher spoke to this journalist in August 1994, just alter the release of Oasis's debut album, Definitely Maybe, he detailed his admiration for those unsavoury role models of old, The Rolling Stones, and also laid out his band's mischievous manifesto: "We drink a lot, we take drugs, we re the most promiscuous band in history, probably: we're not politically correct and we don't pretend to be, and we'll never deny anything." If their showing at the Brit Awards was anything to go by, then Oasis are keeping to their rebellious promise: journalists at Earl's Court reported copious beer swilling and pungent marijuana smells in the vicinity of Oasis, and presumably Patsy Kensit, who was with Liam at the ceremony, is aware of the younger Gallagher's "Loaded Lad" reputation.

Oasis have swaggered to the top on a cocktail of arrogance, self belief, and a magpie attitude to rock music's past. Not only do they borrow riffs and lyrics from the great bands of the 1960s, they also cop some of their attitudes, fearlessly courting controversy with every ill advised remark or monstrously over confident boast. They slag off their rival bands, they overstate their own talent and they make wild predictions of success in defiance of sober marketing forecasts; they fight, they flirt, they fly in the face of acceptable social comportment, and everybody loves em for it.

IN many ways, Oasis are trying to relive the great pop era - which happened before Liam was born and before Noel was old enough to cog his homework. Now Liam is looking more and more like Lennon with his beard and specs, and Noel seems to be singlehandedly rewriting the great songs of the 1960s - Wonderwall, Don't Look Back In Anger and Some Might Say are already destined to become the Whiter Shade of Pale, Let It Be and Satisfaction of the 1990s. Even some of their career turns have echoed those of their predecessors, albeit in a rather tenuous way. Noel's "We're better than Blur" outburst elicited outrage similar to Lennon's "We're bigger than Jesus" remark - although to be fair to Lennon, at least he didn't invoke the name of a deadly virus, and to be fair to Noel, he didn't exactly blaspheme. When bass player Guigsy temporarily left the band last year due to nervous exhaustion, the Gallaghers were quick to point out that Ringo once left the Beatles, only to return in time for the Fab Four to conquer America. Lo and behold, Guigsy's back, and (What's The Story) Morning Glory is at Number 4 in the Billboard chart. Is that, like, karma or what?

So, will the Yanks take to these new rogues in town, or will they spit back at them like they did with The Sex Pistols back in 1978? Did the American record buying public buy the album because they heard the songs were good, or because they heard the boys were bad? Probably a bit of both. America is the home of high jinks, so anything Oasis can do should by rights elicit only drawls of boredom Stateside - after all, they've already got Courtney Love, the most feared woman in rock whose antics include punching the singer from a rival band, and posting "Oasis Must Die" bulletins on the Internet. She's been ordered by a judge to undergo Anger Management Courses, but there's many a hack who hopes she drops out and starts giving good copy again.

Chances are, however, that Oasis will cut a loutish swathe through the heartland of America, and they'll be feted wherever they throw a punch or cast a snide comment. It has been a long time since anyone did rock `n' roll rebellion with the panache and pizzazz of Oasis. Kurt Cobain may have been a genius, but he came on like a dyspeptic misfit; Courtney thinks she's a strong, independent woman, but everybody else thinks she's a childish, spoilt tantrum merchant; and the entire slacker/grunge set have been exposed as soft bellied whingers who wouldn't throw a TV out the window in case they might miss the reruns of Captain Kangaroo.

America has lost faith in its own anti heroes, so now it has to import some imps from the UK. Enter Oasis, exit Metallica - the latter just ain't `ard enough anymore.

PERHAPS we should introduce the Americans to Pulp's Jarvis Cocker, a man who proved that when it comes to rock `n' roll rebellion, he can upstage even the cocksure kings of confidence.

Anyone who would dare to disrupt Michael Jackson's contrived, self glorifying performance at The Brits must either be endowed with the right stuff, or have taken a tad too much of the quare stuff. If it turned out to be the former, then Jarvis should have no problem bashing those lily livered American metalheads to a Pulp. Nothing less than an attempt by Liam to clout President Clinton could top that one.