Who The Fuck Is Bonehead?

Hello you. Make a cup of tea. Put a record on.

Not Morning Glory. Go earlier. “Bring It on Down.” “Columbia.” Play it loud. Forget the vocals. Forget the solos. Listen to the scaffolding underneath it all. That’s Bonehead.

Paul Arthurs. Bonehead. Manc. Builder. Rhythm guitarist. One of the last men in Britpop who never asked for attention but made it work. Barre chords. No fuss. No showboating. Just a wall of noise that kept the band from falling apart while they tried to tear themselves down.

You know Oasis. You know Noel and Liam. This isn’t about them.

This is the bit they never talk about.

Where the Fuck Did Bonehead Come From?

Born 1965. Irish Catholic. Longsight. Moved to Levenshulme when he was nine. Short haircuts, short tempers, early exits. Left school at sixteen. Worked as a plasterer. Got on with it.

Started a band. Pleasure and Pain. Then another. The Rain. That’s the one that mattered. Built it with Guigsy and Tony McCarroll. Not glamorous. Not good. Not getting anywhere. Then Liam showed up. Changed the name to Oasis. Changed everything.

Noel turned up later. Everyone remembers that bit. Bonehead already had a band. He let Noel in anyway. Because the songs were better. Because he knew what mattered.

He never said it out loud. But he could’ve. “This only works if I hold the rhythm. So I will.”

What the Fuck Did Bonehead Do?

He held it all together.

Played rhythm guitar like a scaffold. Heavy, solid, unshifting. You don’t notice it until it’s gone. Played every chord on Definitely Maybe and Morning Glory. Played keys. Played bass once when someone bailed mid-tour. Never complained. Never needed thanks.

He wasn’t flashy. Wasn’t trying to be. Noel wrote the songs. Liam sang them. Bonehead made sure they didn’t fall apart on the way out of the amp.

In the background, always. But there. Every night. Every gig. Every fight, probably. Said it wasn’t fun anymore. Said he needed to be with his family. So in 1999, he left.

Oasis carried on. But they didn’t sound the same. Not really.

What the Fuck Happened After?

He stayed in Manchester. Didn’t chase headlines. Didn’t try to start again.

Played in Parlour Flames. Played in Phoneys & the Freaks. Did small gigs. Charity stuff. Helped Andy Rourke raise money for cancer wards. Not because it was good press. Just because someone had to.

Then Liam called.

Gem Archer was out. Bonehead stepped in. No drama. No nostalgia. Just plugged in and played. Rhythm guitar on Liam’s solo records. Live sets. Big stages. Reading. Old Trafford. London Stadium. Same Epiphone Riviera. Same stance. No fuss.

Got cancer. Didn’t milk it. Got better. Came back. Quietly.

That’s the story.

What the Fuck Does Bonehead Matter?

Because most bands fall apart when they lose the glue. Because not every important part gets a quote in Mojo. Because Oasis only worked when someone in that room wasn’t screaming.

He never made it about him. That’s what made him matter.

He’s back now. Oasis Live ’25. The reunion nobody expected. The only one that could still hold. Bonehead’s there. Stage left. Playing like nothing’s changed.

And if you listen hard, underneath the noise and the headlines and the years of brothers fighting, you’ll hear it. The rhythm. Still there.

That’s who the fuck Bonehead is.