Where were you when they were getting high?

I missed the first wave of Oasis mania. I couldn't miss the second.

The Oasis reunion wasn’t on my 2025 bingo card.

In The Importance of Being Earnest there is a scene where two of the main characters have the following exchange:

Cecily - I keep a diary in order to enter the wonderful secrets of my life. If I didn't write them down, I should probably forget all about them.

Miss Prism -Memory, my dear Cecily, is the diary that we all carry about with us.

Miss Prism’s line illustrates perfectly what life has felt like for the past couple of weeks as little by little I’ve given in to the Oasis mania that invaded London (and the whole country) in July and been catapulted back in time to the 90s, that time full of dreams that slowly faded away while we were living.

Let us begin this story by saying that it was just another Sunday afternoon walking to the sound of my favourite tune and getting through the hordes of tourists that descend to Camden market on the weekend when I realised something strange. 90% of people I was crossing looked like a walking replica of Liam Gallagher in the football match he played against Damon Albarn in 1996.

In addition to this, several establishments were also hinting at the Mancunian band in their marketing in very explicit ways that I hadn’t seen before. Oasis Tattoo day, read one seedy parlour. You certainly won’t live forever if you get a tattoo there, I thought as I walked past it.

Decided to find out what was going on, I reached out for my phone in search for answers. Oasis were playing that day at Wembley. Of course, the reunion tour, I had completely forgotten about it. It all makes sense now.

Some might say the Oasis mania has been as inescapable this summer across the UK as it was at the height of their fame in the 90s. I say mayyyybe.

However, if like me your answer to the proverbial “Where were you when they were getting high?” is learning the lyrics to Wannabe and embracing girl power, chances are your teenage years weren’t spent singing your lungs out to Bring It On Down or trying to learn guitar to the chords of Wonderwall to the dismay of your family and neighbours.

Despite what Oscar Wilde wrote, memory is a tricky friend and can’t be trusted as a reliable narrator so the only thing I remember clearly from the mid 90s is that I was in high school. No matter how much attention you paid to events as they occurred, they will be returned to you as a blur. Or a Blur depending on how old you were in 1997 and how hard the expansive wave of Britpop hit you.

Other than that, most of my memories between 1994-1997, the golden years of Oasis, revolve around music but they are all tangled up. Had I entered my Beatles phase before or after I heard Wonderwall on the radio briefly as part of an ad for a radio station? No idea, but those few seconds were enough to make an impression on me the same way the first accords of Come Together did, whichever happened first. No one is more impressionable than a hormonal teenager nor more capable of grasping the many nuances of external stimuli, especially when they come in the shape of life-altering music.

What I do remember is that in 1997 time stood still on three occasions as I was mesmerised in front of the tv watching the music videos to Song 2 by Blur, Bittersweet Symphony by The Verve and Stand by Me by Oasis.

While they all became instant classics of the time and I’ve listened to them regularly over the years, Stand by Me was love at first note and sight. In fact, its video remained impressed on my memory because it featured two sisters who were arguing and it was sung by a band with two brothers who couldn’t stop arguing.

And since in 1997 my sister and I had a rocky relationship, as expected of a pre-teen and a hormonal teenager that are forced to share a room, I immediately related to the song. If you too went through the joyful experience of not having any privacy during the tsunami of adolescence you will understand the turbulent love-hate dynamic at play which is so tricky to explain to outsiders. I was the Noel to her Liam and we could both be very explosive characters.

Because of that Stand by Me conquered my teenage heart and its lyrics kept reminding my adult self of the importance of sticking it out for yourself and others because things won’t always remain the way they are and brighter days lie ahead.

But despite the emotional reaction that song unchained, and how much I’ve listened to it over the years, I’d be lying if I said I became the greatest Oasis fan, or even listened to them regularly like I did with The Beatles. Not because I didn’t like Oasis, but because there was so much going on musically in those years¹ that dedicating exclusive time to a given group meant taking it away from another. Having always been a musical butterfly, it felt selfish to put my hands in the life of a rock and roll band and throw the rest of artists away.

The new millennium arrived and amid more blurry memories Stop Crying your Heart Out found its way to me somehow and had the same impact Stand by Me did a few years before it.

The lyrics “Don’t be scared, your destiny may keep you warm, take what you need and be on your way” were timely and comforting words at a time when I felt every decision opened a door and closed another and I didn’t have margin for error in building the path I wanted my life to follow.

It’s probably one of the best songs the band has produced in the 2000s (and one of the best outros Noel has written), a good transition between their early sound and the changing musical guard as electronic and indie/alternative rock gained momentum. A song that reminds you of the essence of Oasis in their beginnings but also of the direction in which they could travel. A metaphor of sorts for the person I was in the previous decade and the one I was on the brink of becoming.

But once again it wasn’t enough to convert me into an Oasis fan.

The years passed by and with them Oasis came to an end a month before I arrived in London. Do I remember that moment? Not particularly although I have flashbacks of seeing the news on television. I remember seeing Noel Gallagher a few times on interviews in the aftermath of their separation but I don’t know when or where. Maybe it was for the better I wasn’t an ardent fan as it spared me the heartbreak and, truth be told, I was still grieving the departure of Geri Halliwell from the Spice Girls so I don’t think I would have been able to cope with this.

And then one day, when I least expected it, all the music of my teenage years and the music I was discovering in London came together at the opening and closing ceremonies of the Olympics in 2012.

My heart was full when the notes of Come Together played and Alex Turner nervously crooned his way through the lyrics, delivering a decent version of my favourite Beatles song in front of a global audience. The best was yet to come as Paul McCartney would take the stage for a moving rendition of Hey, Jude which had me in tears by the chorus. The closing ceremony² delivered via black cab the Spice Girls and Wannabe, the hymn of every teenage girl in 1996. Geri was there too and I felt this was the reunion I had been waiting for.

Shortly after the girl power had invaded the Olympic stadium Liam Gallagher would take the stage and what I remember from that moment is that despite I still wasn’t the biggest Oasis fan, and that I must have heard Wonderwall a thousand million times by 2012 without exaggeration,³ which one can argue diminishes its emotional impact, the moment those first guitar chords cut through the summer breeze at Stratford and Liam’s voice let out the word “Today” I had goosebumps and felt a tingle all over my body, tears at the ready.

Seriously? Wonderwall and not Come Together?

Did I even realise back then that this was Liam Gallagher with his new band Beady Eye and not Oasis? In hindsight probably I didn’t. And yet that song, and Liam’s voice, had me by the balls ovaries the second my brain identified it. Some obscure mechanism had been triggered and I was powerless in front of the billionth rendition of Wonderwall. “I thought you weren’t really into Oasis,” my boyfriend at the time said as tears started flowing down my cheeks. “Me too but here we are now,” or at least that’s what in my head I thought I said as the sobbing made it a bit difficult to articulate full words.

At the time Liam’s voice wasn’t even at his best. In fact he was already struggling vocally due to undiagnosed Hashimoto’s disease, so his performance wasn’t among his most memorable ones. But there was something that transcended vocal prowess. Maybe the fact that he played this song live again for the first time at a stadium after Oasis had dismantled? Maybe the sight of thousands of people singing to it and moving their arms in unison as if Liam Gallagher had transformed the Olympic stadium into an Oasis gig?

Whichever it was, this song no longer belonged to Liam, Oasis or even its creator Noel Gallagher. Although I’m sure he slept very tighly that night knowing the royalties still ended up in his bank account.

Wonderwall had become a generational anthem that each of those present at Statford that night had made theirs at some point in their lives, maybe some of them on the spot as they listened to it for the first time, its significance made more powerful because it had transcended its own time and touched people of all ages all over the world. In that moment Liam Gallagher achieved the same musical miracle Paul McCartney did when he sat in front of that piano at the opening ceremony and people just knew what to sing without anyone telling them. Not even Wannabe, for all its ubiquitouness in 1996, could compete.

It was the first time I experienced a sense of communion with a stadium full of strangers across the other side of London as we all sang in unison a song most of us had probably grown up with without realising it by a band we would never be able to listen to live anymore.

While I’ve never been a sports fan, I regretted not having applied for tickets for either of the ceremonies as it would have been magical to be in the middle of those people, feeling part of a once-in-a-lifetime celebration of music that bonded us across generations and cultures and that, unbeknownst to me, had managed to have such a strong emotional hold of me over the years.

When did that happen and when would another opportunity to experience something like that present itself?

In May 2017 22 people lost their lives in a terrorist attack while they were at an Ariana Grande concert held in Manchester Arena. When a few days later a crowd gathered in a tribute to honour the victims, a woman started singing Don’t Look Back in Anger first on her own, soon joined by others in attendance.⁴

The news travelled quickly and I remember watching the scene at a pub while I was out with friends. Another Oasis song linked to another historical event, this time spontaneously chosen by the people. While I watched the footage on TV something strange happens as I didn’t remember having listened to Don’t Look Back in Anger that much over the years and somehow I knew the lyrics as if by magic and started singing along everyone else in the pub. Oscar Wilde really has a lot to account for with that memory quote.

A few days later, Chris Martin would reprise the song at a concert he organised in memory of the victims, where he’d be joined by Liam Gallagher on stage, who sang Live Forever. Again as I came across the first online videos I was taken aback by the déjà-vu of the performance. I knew that song except I was sure I hadn’t listened to it before. Or had I?

I was seriously beginning to wonder whether another version of me existed in a Champagne Supernova universe and had grown up to be a massive Oasis superfan while I remained supposedly oblivious to their music despite living in the same time and space continuum as the Gallagher brothers did.

In 2023 everyone keeps saying rock is dead but here are The Struts to prove everyone wrong. They may not have had the massive following Oasis did because musical taste has drastically changed and there are no longer music shows on television showcasing artists in the same way they did in the 90s, but they surely are one of the most exciting rock bands around today, with a style reminiscent of Queen and Bowie and, of course, Oasis.

I discovered their music during the early stages of the pandemic and I couldn’t wait to see them live one day.⁵ It’s always exciting to have something to look forward to when it comes to finding a new artist and you know you’ll have the possibility to attend one of their concerts soon.

In the meantime, I focused on listening to anything I could find about them and by them online. Which is how I came across an excellent unplugged version of Supersonic that I played on repeat until I learnt every word.

I can’t believe this is an Oasis song, I said to myself.

Which in itself is a statement that proves the extent to which the Mancunians repertoire passed me by at a time where I was meant to be injecting their music in my brain like a Britpop junkie.

Mea culpa, I get it, but god forbid a teenage girl from a remote village in Spain preferred the hypnotic rhythm of Say You’ll Be There to the guitar-led tunes and raspy vocals of a young Liam Gallagher who in hindsight looks very supersonic indeed. Because the other thing this reunion has made me realise is that no one in the whole 90s decade looked cooler than him. Not to speak of his trademark swagger. Damn, I can’t believe that too passed me totally by only for Geri to throw it all away in 1998.

Note for the future: Never put your life in the hands of a manufactured girl power band.

In August 2024 The Struts, who have already consolidated as one of my favourite bands, are touring the US. During one of their performances they inform the audience they haven’t slept much over the past night as they were up waiting for the Oasis reunion announcement which they celebrate by playing Wonderwall. Is there anything Luke Spiller can’t sing and make his own? I doubt it.

By now it shouldn’t come as a surprise to you that I only learnt about the reunion about a week later, when the Ticketmaster dynamic pricing made headlines as millions of fans tried to get hold of a ticket to see the band in 2025. In my defence, no Spanish person worth of the citizenship is paying attention to anything that is going on in the world during August, or mid-July to mid-September if we are honest. Again this blissful ignorance proved a blessing in disguise because I skipped the anxiety hardcore fans must have felt at the thought of not being able to see their favourite band again while I was happily drowning myself in vermouts at my town’s feria.

Besides, my initial thoughts when I learned about the reunion were that the Gallagher brothers being who they are had plenty of time to fight several times and cancel the tour, so I would have wasted my money by getting a ticket. I wasn’t alone in thinking this by the way. Would they still sound good live after all these years? Don’t think so. I had no reason to regret not having tickets to see a band I had never been much into anyway. You’ll never change what’s been and gone and all that jazz.

July 2025.

The end of the month finds me strolling along Carnaby street one evening as I run some errands. The street, while touristy, is inexplicably flooded by people who seem to be right out of a football match based on their attire, but they all seem to be supporting a team called Oasis. Not sure they’re on the Premier League.

This causes a brief cognitive dissonance that takes only a few steps to dissolve as I find myself in front of the Oasis pop-up store where a queue of people already dressed in Oasis gear head to toe are waiting to get inside and presumably become a walking Oasis logo. Opposite, the Levi’s shop is paying homage to the Mancunian band by dressing all its mannequins with a special Oasis collection.

Barely 50 metres away, the Adidas shop has its windows covered in the Oasis logo celebrating the reunion tour. Inside it several pictures of the Gallagher brothers hang on the walls while Columbia plays full blast on the audio system. How do I know this song? I’ve stopped asking myself questions for which I don’t have answers but I just do.

I decide to leave the 90s Britpop simulation that Carnaby street has turned into overnight and decide to wander a bit through Soho making the most of the good weather.

I head unconsciously to Berwick street where I walk past a Clark’s shop with the face of Liam Gallagher all over its window. A few steps ahead a father gives directions to his 10-year old daughter, who is in the middle of the road blocking the traffic, so that he can take a picture of her. Tourists, they’ll find every non-descriptive corner of London charming and wreak havoc in the process.

Curious about what is so significant about another crowded Soho street to put his child’s life at risk, I walk a few steps ahead and turn to see what the father is seeing from his perspective. The chorus of (What’s the story) Morning Glory? starts playing in my head as the cover of that album materialises right in front of my eyes.

Up until then I could see the signs but they were not very clear but now I finally understand I have been given a second chance to experience Oasis mania in all its glory, which escaped me back in the day as I was culturally and physically removed from its epicentre. Maybe this is why I have lasted so long in London despite so many hurdles: It was all part of the masterplan since the beginning.

When I get home that day I watch a video of the Oasis reunion tour as people have started sharing footage of the first concerts that have taken place in Cardiff and Manchester.

As the apostle Peter, I keep negating Oasis. Surely they can’t sound good so many years later, right? Like Jesus, they prove me wrong. They sound incredible, maybe better than any other rock band I have seen live in all these years in London, and I’ve seen Muse who are impeccable from every point of view.

The videos shared online capture how these people feel as enthralled as they were when Liam Gallagher sung Wonderwall at the Olympic Park in 2012. They are happy to be part of something that many thought they would never be able to experience again or ever, which is made evident by the fact that there are fans of all ages, some of whom weren’t probably born when the band split but who have grown up listening to their music. Similarly to me discovering The Beatles long after they were a band no more.

Judging from the rave reviews, the Oasis reunion tour has been both a critical and commercial success so far so it’s logical to assume there’ll be a documentary (probably already in the making) and maybe a screening of the concerts like Taylor Swift did with the Eras Tour. I can always watch either from home, like the Olympics, and still be glad the brothers have reunited and are bringing so much joy to the fans who have been waiting not only for their music but for their reconciliation.

On the other hand, how many times one gets a second chance in life to experience a historical moment as it unfolds in front of you? Am I going to really miss Oasis in their second coming? I won’t be able to stop crying my heart out if I do.

As days go by in between the two weekends Oasis is playing at Wembley, I listen to Definitely Maybe, Morning Glory, The Masterplan and Be Here Now at least three times each as they are the albums featured in the reunion setlist. Full-on 90s nostalgia. Seriously, what was I thinking when I was 14? There’s no point looking back in anger now.

Many have said nostalgia has played a big part in the success of the Oasis reunion tour for those of us who were old enough to remember them at the peak of their fame. Cynics say it’s Noel’s divorce and needing to recoup financially, which is a fair reason in my book for reconciling with a sibling and give your tunes a spin around the world. Especially for a man who has never hidden he wanted more.

The catalysis for me to trigger an irrational fear of missing out on a generational milestone for a second time has been seeing so many people enjoying the same music at the same time and talking about it non-stop at a time when our cultural taste is so fragmented and it is difficult to find common ground over shared interests. Is it my imagination or have I finally found something worth living for, at least for a week?

Nowadays we rarely experience music as a cultural phenomenon that can dominate conversations like the battle of Britpop did back in the day and have the ability to help us bond over our shared passions or animadversions -or maybe the sheer love of everything there is on offer. Discussing the cultural zeitgeist with our peers, especially films and music, was all it was about before the arrival of streaming and personalised music suggestions changed the way entire generations transition through that defining cultural blueprint that is adolescence.

There is also another element that makes it difficult to ignore the voice in my head that keeps whispering I should try and find a ticket. I’m well aware this is a ludicrous idea, so I try to contain as best as I can a mounting excitement that surprises even me. Besides, there is a reason I never been to Wembley for a concert and I would feel out of place and overwhelmed among such a massive crowd of strangers.

And yet I keep reading reviews of the shows eagerly and rooting for the Gallaghers, not as members of Oasis but as brothers. I don’t think I have never been so invested in two people’s relationship working out even when there is nothing in it for me. Having had my ups and downs with my sister in the past, and knowing several people who were or still are estranged from their siblings and haven’t spoken to them in years, has surely made me appreciate more the relationship we’ve been able to build and realise that life is just too short to let it pass you by musically or emotionally as you’re caught up in your petty grievances.

Reading the comments on every video or post shared on social media it is obvious this is a shared feeling and that for many people seeing Liam and Noel joking and smiling at each other on stage is just as powerful as listening to their music once again. Because this time around we’re all a bit older and carry more baggage than we did in the 90s, the real success of this reunion lies not on the music (or the money), but on the shared understanding of the importance of healing and repairing relationships when we still can. The Gallaghers with each other and Oasis with their fans. The Oasis reunion has, against all odds, the feel-good event of the year in a world where the opportunities for communal joy and celebration have become far and few in between.

Perhaps that’s why we’ve nearly lost our voices singing the chorus of Acquiesce while Noel Gallagher faces thousands of people and is taking in the cultural and historical impact this moment has not only for many of us, but also for him and his brother as he sings “Because we need each other, we believe in one another,” and we can’t help but agree and sing back. Fans will miss Liam’s funny tweets heckling random abuse at Noel after all these years but they’ll be willing to give them up if this means these two are finally on smiling terms.

Oh, sorry, yes, I should have clarified that this is really happening. I am at the Oasis concert at Wembley.

If you wonder how this manifested the answer is simple. For better or for worse, London is a city where anything is possible provided you’re willing to part with money. In this case I was lucky to find a ticket for the last date they are playing in August in London and it was not only genuine (phew!) but totally worth it.

My seat is next to an Italian girl who has told me she was an Oasis fan since she was 10. She is 40 now and has travelled from Sardinia because she never managed to see them when they were together and thought this would never happen again. She was one of the lucky ones who got tickets last year and has been looking forward to this moment. On my right there is a guy from Singapore who has also travelled all the way to see the band. He doesn’t specify when he got his ticket. It’s also his first time and like my Italian neighbour he never thought this would be something he would experience in his lifetime.

Next to him there’s a young couple who can’t be older than 30, probably also their first time. In an hour, the guy will ask the girl to marry him halfway through Slide Away, which we will learn is their favourite Oasis song, as we cheer and congratulate them. But right now they can’t stop smiling. Like the rest of us.

When Liam and Noel finally come on stage, hand in hand, Wembley goes absolutely mad for it. I can feel the concrete shaking underneath my feet as 90,000 people start jumping at once. I was a bit apprehensive about the size of Wembley but watching the crowd so genuinely elated surpasses any expectations I had for what this concert would be and suddenly I am surrounded by friends I’ve never met before but who are feeling as supersonic as I do.

By the time Stand by Me makes an appearance on the setlist I can’t keep it together any longer and I start crying. I am not at Wembley anymore but back home in front of the television watching a music video where two sisters fight and one of them ends up in hospital as Liam sings “Stand by me, nobody knows the way is gonna be,” and I am left wondering if she’ll make it.

Wonderwall has a hypnotic, trance-like effect and so does Don’t Look Back in Anger, which we will religiously sing, feeling every word. Anywhere I look tears will flow freely, regardless of the song. I can’t tell you the way I feel because the way I feel is oh so new to me but when I finally get home, I will think that I have never witnessed anything like this concert before and it’s nothing short of magical. Biblical even as Liam would say.

However, it’ll be Champagne Supernova, a song up to this day I’ve been mostly indifferent to, the one that will hit the hardest for me in all its psychodelic, Beatlesy magnificence⁶ as the fireworks light up the sky above us. To the critics that claim Oasis is the most successful cover band in the history of music on account of how much inspiration they’ve drawn from The Beatles, I can only say thank god because I love The Beatles but I am never going to see them live so everything has come full circle for me at this concert.

All these emotions and ruminations, however, will be processed much later, long after the 90,000 people gathered today at Wembley will have done a Poznan and exulted on the notes of Cigarettes & Alcohol, felt the weight of the “my body feels young but my mind is very old” lyrics in Half the World Away, thought of Richard Ashcroft⁷ as we sing Cast No Shadow, appreciated the great song D’You Know What I Mean? actually is, and embraced that we are free to be Whatever and we can sing the blues if we want.

One day, many years from now, someone will be writing about this moment in time reflecting on the historical phenomenon this reunion was and its cultural impact like other people have done in recent years trying to unpack the why, how, what and who of Britpop. For a change, when that moment arrives, I will be able to say I didn’t let it pass me by while everyone enjoyed it and I too lived it first hand.

But that is in the future and tonight, even if I would like to slow it right down because the day's moving just too fast, I am living for the stars that shine. And right here, right now, in this warm August night at Wembley, in my mind my dreams are real and we all are rock ‘n’ roll stars.

Just as we were back in the 90s when life was lighter and we thought we’d live forever. And Geri Halliwell could never leave the Spice Girls.

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1. Spain at the time was the place to be musically as the radio would play any style of music from the UK, Europe, the US, Latin America and our own country, which resulted in discovering a great range of artists very different among themselves, from Lauryn Hill to The Red Hot Chilli Peppers, Jamiroquai, Estopa (our national version of Oasis as they are also two brothers that took Spanish music by storm with their debut album) or Shakira, who back in the 90s was a very different artist and sung exclusively in Spanish, a language that has produced her best songs. Once she started recording in English things changed, but that’s a story for another post.

2. One of the best performances of both ceremonies was by Muse, another favourite band, whose song Survival was the official theme for the 2012 London Olympics. As usual, they were flawless and Survival proves once more the band’s ability to write timeless anthems that sound as good today, or in 20 years’ time, as they did 13 years ago.

3. Ever since living in London I’ve learned that every bar/pub/restaurant you walk into as well as every busker/live act/group of dunks you cross is required to play/sing Wonderwall by law least the world implodes if they don’t.

4. Testament to the significance of Don’t Look Back in Anger at that time, the song was played during a friendly match between France and England at the Stade de France on 13th June, with fans of both teams singing as a tribute to the victims of the Manchester and recent London Bridge attacks.

5. Which would eventually happen in 2024 when they played at The Roundhouse.

6. With the exception of Knebworth in 1996 and the Supersonic video, Liam Gallagher has never looked more handsome than in Champagne Supernova, which sees him channelling a John Lennon look that suits him very well among the psychedelia of CS.

7. Who has been on stage before and put on an extraordinary performance. Singing along Bittersweet Symphony with 90,000 people has without a doubt been another highlight of the Oasis reunion.