Oasis reunion: Gallaghers make triumphant Wembley return
A lot has happened in the last two decades but for Oasis time appears to have stood still. The sheer weight of hype and expectation seems to have caused a ripple in the fabric of the cultural universe, sending more than 90,000 people back to the glory days of Manchester’s finest.
The last time I saw Oasis was almost 20 years ago to the day, at the City of Manchester Stadium for the Don’t Believe the Truth tour. After they played Live Forever, Liam turned to Noel and said: “Why don’t you write some more songs like this?” He never did, of course. The band limped on for another four years before a catastrophic bust-up before a gig in Paris saw them part ways, leaving them both scowling back in some considerable anger.
So it’s testament to the healing power of time that these gigs have the atmosphere of a festival. A sea of bucket hats bobbed down a sun-kissed Wembley Way, every second person dripping in official merch. Doors opened at 5pm but the party was in full flow long before that.
Richard Ashcroft smashes the support slot
Had you asked Richard Ashcroft 30 years ago who would be supporting whom out of The Verve and Oasis I’m pretty sure he’d have backed his own band. But he’s a magnanimous warm-up act, age-defying in his aviators and thick barnet (he was Ozempic-skinny long before Ozempic), belting out hits including The Drugs Don’t Work, Lucky Man, Sonnet and Bitter Sweet Symphony. When he started his eight-track set the crowd were chatting amongst themselves – by the end, Wembley was rapt.
Fellow Britpop survivor Jarvis Cocker high-kicked his way through an impressively energetic set last month but Oasis never went in for any of that. For a band with a catalogue filled with unashamedly emotional songs, the Gallagher brothers are a singularly unemotional pair. That they walk onto stage hand in hand is a nice, brotherly gesture but that’s your lot in terms of interaction. Noel stakes out a spot at one side of the stage, the years beginning to show a little, while Liam takes the other, hands clasped behind his back, a corduroy bucket hat pulled down low, casting the top of his face in shadow. He looks like a bohemian scarecrow but you have to admire his commitment to the bit.
“Every time I open my mouth, I get myself in a lot of trouble,” he notes, and he’s not wrong.
Thankfully these songs speak for themselves, especially when they’re being belted out by 90,000 adoring fans. They immediately smash out Hello, Acquiesce (their most streamed song in the lead-up to the gig, strangely enough), Morning Glory and Some Might Say. Not many bands could burn through tracks as good as those before they’ve broken a sweat.
Oasis play banger after banger
And from there it just keeps getting better. In 2005, both Guess God Thinks I’m Abel and The Meaning of Soul somehow made it into the encore. This time around all but three tracks were recorded in that incredible mid-1990s run when Noel couldn’t write a bad song to save his life. You could reshuffle the setlist a thousand different ways and it would still slap.
But this never feels like a tribute act: these guys have still got it. Liam’s as deliciously snarly as ever, his voice virtually unchanged since the heady days of 1994, while Noel brings an oaky, soulful melody. It’s striking how effortlessly Liam owns the stage, too, somehow managing to swagger without really moving. Back in the bad old days a narrative formed that this was Noel’s band, really, but Liam’s come into his own since they split and there’s no question this is a gathering of equals.
It’s hard to overstate the raw power of nostalgia as the crowd sings along to all-timers including Supersonic, Slide Away and Live Forever, arms thrown around the shoulders of strangers, damp eyes everywhere you look. If you weren’t friends with the people next to you before the gig, you sure as hell were by the end (I had a dinner invitation before the lights came up).
Nice touches include the crowd being directed to “do the hokey f***ing cokey” – AKA the Poznan – jumping with their backs to the stage, while Liam wearing his tambourine as a second hat was one of the evening’s more arresting images. Even the 10,000 pints of beer flying overhead – a lager supernova! – were chucked (and largely received) with a smile. Gone is the vague air of menace that once typified an Oasis gig.
Noel kicks off the encore with a heartfelt rendition of The Masterplan – the best version of it I’ve heard – before a glorious singalong begins to Don’t Look Back in Anger, Wonderwall and Champagne Supernova.
It was the feel-good moment we all needed, a salve for the depressing here and now and a reminder of a time when it felt like the future was bright and we really might live forever. I doubt this is the last we’ll see of Oasis but if it is… what a way to go.
