I saw Oasis play live in 1996, and no reunion show will ever compete

In 2025, Oasis

will perform some of the most anticipated shows in music history, 15 years after the Britpop heavyweights called it a bitter end for the day. As with all things so famous and culturally definitive, there was a tangible reaction from – let’s say – a controlling element similar to those who will list the real best Britpop bands of all time at any opportunity.

On that front, a simple rebuttal: let people get excited. Live music must be celebrated, valued and encouraged to grow for new generations. That said, my initial excitement about the upcoming Oasis reunion shows was tempered by two things: first, the booking process, naturally, and second, the existential dilemma that miraculously manifested itself for anyone who failed to pre-order, sell public, and second vote. It just won’t be the same.

Obviously, this is very easy to say (and difficult to justify when the secondary market tickets I bought cost as much as they did), and this is not self-congratulation.”you weren’t there, man“rant. But that Oasis show in 1997 was a moment of personal epiphany, and while I’m incredibly excited to see the band again, it just won’t rival the first time. Nothing compares to the way that kind of experience grows in your memory, or as your identity grows around it.

Oasis were a different band in 1997

In 1997, Oasis were at the height of their powers, having enjoyed arguably their best two years, and with two phenomenally successful albums already released. Decades later, the “Be Here Now” era is somewhat unfairly remembered as the beginning of a decline, but to anyone who saw Liam and Noel commanding stages around the world during that tour, such a suggestion would be madness. With all the freshness of teenage youth, I was lucky to be among the masses.

The Scottish legends Travis played as support, instantly impressing me with their own greatness, even at such a young age. The stage was set up like an Anglophile’s wet dream, with “Cool Britannia” pop art installations supporting the band, and very consciously embracing the Britpop band image of Brit that Oasis created for themselves. Even the huge red phone booth couldn’t compete with Liam’s colossal presence, or Noel’s elegant, contrasting stance. Both were giants. Both remain giants.

A year earlier, Oasis had played a much smaller venue – an ice hockey rink where tickets cost just £12.50, with support from Ocean Color Scene, and the audience of 4,500 was the largest possible for the region . The Arena opened in the same year, with a capacity for 11,000 people and one of the worst acoustics in the history of British rock. The place was – and continues to be – a hangar with an arched roof where the sound dies, built for maximum audience and not for the quality of the experience. It’s part of the reason why big bands don’t come to my city in general, and yet it might as well have been a cathedral in 1997.

The single The most lasting memory I have of the show is not so much of the individual songs, but of the feeling. The buzz of the bass behind my ribcage and the immediate feeling of claustrophobia strangely comforting at the sound. Even with the acoustic challenges and wall of sound, Liam’s melodies and voice sounded clear; that same constantly imitated Manc growl out loud, egged on by the crowd.

Liam was also at the height of his power: one of the enduring images from the tour (and from Oasis’ quintessentially British portrait portfolio) was the singer wearing a Newcastle United football shirt, celebrating the team’s shock Champions League victory over the titan Barcelona, ​​​​the same night. Somehow, the die-hard Man City fan apparently predicted the victory and considered it special enough to temporarily change color (a decision helped also, as he confessed at the time, by the earlier beer shower that greeted him wearing a Man City shirt). City in the previous year). Liam could always handle a crowd.

The challenge of reunion shows that not even Oasis can escape

Reunion shows are about the occasion, and the nostalgia more than tends to be about the quality of the band. Obviously, Liam and Noel’s more recent musical track record has been impressive, if not great enough to defeat the ghost of Oasis, but the question of their synergy still looms large. Reunion tours inevitably carry an inescapable whiff of cynicism: They are as much corporate ventures as they are bucket-list opportunities.

This is what Oasis is fighting against, as well as the potential for volatility, of course. And there is also the fact that Bands just don’t sound the same over time: there are very few bands with decades of longevity that have the same energy or even the same sound. Fundamentally, though, I fear my revelation is that I don’t so much want to watch a new show of theirs as I want a time machine, one that takes me back to those halcyon days of the mid-1990s. And there’s a hard-to-recognize reason here. .

Oasis may have to make some tough setlist decisions

Whisper it, but in 1997, Oasis’ songbook was tighter and better than it would later become. Just look at the setlist: it could very well be a Greatest Hits album: with only a few notable absences from the top of their catalogue. I would have liked to have seen “Half The World Away” (although that only grew in stature after ’97), “Slide Away”, “The Masterplan” and “Cigarettes And Alcohol”. That’s not to say that Oasis didn’t release anything good after Be Here Now, but there aren’t many that would make this list.

The new shows will be an embarrassment of riches that I fear will mean some of the music played in 1997 won’t survive. There are reasons for some of them to drop out, naturally – mainly because Be Here Now just isn’t as well-remembered, but the Gallaghers are going to have to make some setlist decisions that I don’t really envy.

Don’t look back in anger…

It’s impossible not to get romantic about the show, especially because When I was 13, music announced itself to me with an urgency that formed identity. Being introduced to bands like Radiohead, Skunk Anansie and Blur was like being grabbed by the collar and being told that this new art was vital. I would never be able to make music like that, of course, because it was magical, but Oasis in 1997 – one of my first shows – was like being introduced to a new tribe. Nostalgia can do a lot of things, but it can’t take that back.

The reunion shows will be an experience, and I’m so jealous of whoever gets to see it Oasis play one of them for the first time, even if your pockets still hurt. The production will be grand, the camaraderie in the crowd will be bottle-worthy, and the music will be the same as always, but it won’t come close to what it was in 1997 for me.