#brit-pop

Damon Albarn (Blur, Gorillaz) and Jarvis Cocker (Pulp) during a band-vs.-band soccer match.

Oasis 

Live ‘25 Reunion Tour

(9/1/2025) 

Metlife Stadium 

w/ Cage the Elephant 

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A Fairly Long Review of Oasis at MetLife Stadium, 9.1.2025

A Big Deal

It was the tour that even the largest skeptics/fans of the band figured would never happen. About 13 months ago, I caught a weird stirring in the Oasis camp and knew something was up. During my last vacation, I went to Colorado to see Portugal. The Man for a few dates. At a meet-and-greet, I came inches from asking frontman, John Gourley (Noted Oasis fanatic), whether he thought a reunion was in the works, but as I shook his hand in Vale, CO, all I could manage was, “Dude, omg, I’ve been … Fan so long… Thanks, ok, see ya. Have a good set.” 

I look back on that opportunity as more of a humorous story now. Possibly a wasted chance to have some fun conversation with an idol, but alas, it never happened. I retained hope, though! 

No Way!

Within two months, my theory became a solid reality as the Brit-pop icons announced a full-fledged tour with two dates near my neck of the woods, at MetLife Stadium. My wife and I have been together sixteen years, and with Oasis being a large part of our relationship generally, I didn’t really have to ask her to grab tickets. We were in! 

I nearly crapped my pants. I didn’t think that we were actually going for a while. Surely, Liam or Noel would talk shit on their brother and fellow bandmate, and so many people’s hopes for a reunion would be gone like a puff of smoke.  

A Mistake Which Still Haunts Me  

My friends are all sick of hearing this story, but the beauty of explaining it in an article is that I can tell my one interesting Oasis story to fresh eyeballs! Perhaps the irony of said story will get a laugh from someone needing one. 

The year was 2005, and just after graduation from high school, an interesting, inter-borough NYC event was announced for October 1st and 2nd. Dubbed ‘Across the Narrows,’ the event held various concerts throughout the City with a pretty good lineup at each location. For those who have ever fallen victim to making a deeply gut-wrenching decision, such as picking someone who has a schedule conflict with another favorite artist, this next part will strike a chord. 

Both the Pixies and Oasis were booked to headline wildly different locations at times that prevented attendance at both shows. We simply could not have seen both acts; they were too far from each other, and we’d never get there relying on the subway. We had the decision of a lifetime ahead of us, and we were only 18! Whatever were we to do?

Like any normal teenagers, we had a deeply over-analytical conversation about the politics of both bands and how this could affect our Across the Narrows experience. I’ll jump to the core arguments, to spare this from being a 4,000-word article.

Pixies:

They were just getting back together after a long hiatus. In addition, they were playing geographically closer to us, making the chance of missing them much lower than Oasis.

Oasis:

A historically more famous band than the Pixies, despite our preferences. The fame led us to believe there was less of a chance they would break up. We also assumed that if the Brothers were bothering to come across the Pond, we stood a good chance of catching them later in the year, or next. Also, the venue they were at was HUGE, so unlike the Pixies, where we were able to yell Frank Black’s words back to him, we’d need to fry in the sun for a while in order to get any sort of decent spots. I really have a hard time in the heat, so this only pushed my vote more staunchly in the direction of Kim Deal and Joey Santiago. 

SIDE NOTE - I’m not the biggest fan of drummer David Lovering, and it’s nothing personal. I just cannot trust a man who pursued Birthday Clowning and Magicianship as a serious job for numerous years following the band's breakup (Look it up, not kidding).

Day Of

It was quite a glorious day out. In NYC, you always take a chance when buying outdoor tickets to anything. We have weird weather sometimes. Not today, though. It was the kind of beautiful day that glues memories into your brain (EHEM). We knew the Oasis crew would have a good time, and that made us happy. The Pixies were an absolute delight and, in the moment, we regretted nothing. 

Over the next four years, I don’t believe the opportunity ever presented itself to us to go see Oasis again. I could be wrong; it was a long, long time ago. But these things happen, and normally you think nothing of them, until 4 years on from then, when we caught word the Brothers Gallagher had a fresh spat and dissolved the band in August of ‘09. 

FUCK! FUCK, IT ACTUALLY HAPPENED?! THESE PRICKS PULLED THE PLUG? 

…. Shit, there goes that dream. 

Melancholy Sets In

Everyone resigned themselves to never catching Oasis again. Everyone I knew who was a fan gave the opportunity of a reunion less than 0% odds, and I certainly agreed. The most humorous part is that following 2005-06, the Pixies went on a tear where you couldn’t miss them!!! I saw them numerous times from that date on, when the chances of that happening in ‘05 were very slim. OH, THE IRONY!!! 

I’ll skip 16 years of lamenting my decision, because I truly did. It was one of my life’s largest regrets, never catching Oasis live. 

And Just Like That

Reports of the reunion shows in the UK were extremely positive, with news from Cardiff saying the boys were, in fact, somehow, back. And the setlist wasn’t fucking around either. Liam said in Mexico (or was it at the Rose Bowl?) how grateful he was for the turnout because being a fan of the band must be really fucking hard, and they seemed genuinely apologetic for depriving us of the awesome time they knew they were capable of.

MetLife Stadium

September 1st, 2025, came and felt surreal. With fewer options, my wife sacked-up and drove us out to the venue in New Jersey. We got there very early, but it was extremely fortuitous. A wave of my walking cane left the over-tired parking attendants in a moment of having to make a decision, which they never like to do early. So, after waving us through to basically park wherever we wanted, we aimed for a spot that had easy access to the pop-up shop, which was to be present only in these wee hours, offering merch that you really couldn’t get elsewhere. 

With my walking issues, I was happy to ready myself for the Nine Inch Nails show I had tickets for the day after, zooting on my vape cartridge, while she made a mad dash for the store. Because of both her timing and awesomeness, I landed a reversible Oasis bucket hat and an official Adidas Oasis jumper top (that is so F****ng cozy). 

We forgot we had bought ADA-esque tickets, and the view was really quite good. MetLife Stadium actually hosts events nicely; I had never been, but the staff was mostly chill and quite helpful. There is one point of contention that occurred later, but it was my own fault, so we will get into that below.

Underway!

I forgot the name of the first band, but if ever did Oasis find a band that sounded like Oasis to open for them on this leg, it was these gents. I could look up their name, but if I leave that mystery to you, perhaps they gain a new fan when/if you decide to take a look.

The Oasis comparison to the openers is not a dig, necessarily, but by giving off any similarity to what we were there to see, I found myself ‘listening’ (but not listening) to them. They were good, tight, and seemed to have a fair amount of songs about getting fucked up in London. I’m sorry to say I don’t remember a note of what I heard. It is not their fault - As 1st act openers, you come, you play, and gratefully get lost in someone’s experience along the way. 

Cage The Elephant

Next up were apt openers and fellow band ‘containing brothers on guitar and vocals’, respectively, Cage the Elephant. Cage the Elephant has eluded me since, like, 2014. I don’t really know why. I’ve seen them a handful of times in those 11 years. My wife is a big fan and has always tried to introduce me to them, but to a resounding negative reaction that has waned in recent years. Truth be told, I don’t know what my beef was. It didn’t take too far into their set for me to finally ‘get it’ and resign myself to being a full-on convert. 

There’s really nothing not to like when I reflect on Cage the Elephant. We’ve got a good ol' catchy, twangy guitar over a solid rhythm section and a guy yelling about, ‘God DAMMIT, I am trying … I’m trying, ok?’ It’s not too far from Oasis’ topical lyrics with some southern rock (and typically a sweet fire show that they did not do here) added on top.

Listen, folks, you can always come back from being a hater. Your friends will make fun of you, but if your opinion has changed, well, shit, you have some time to catch up, and you'd do best to get listening, rather than considering the politics of what you enjoy or don't.

It was a really awesome performance from Cage the Elephant, and it’s just nice to see Matt Shultz (Singer) looking healthy and coming back to form once again. He had a rough few years in there, but he’s finally looking like he’s in a good spot again, and who doesn’t love to hear/see that? 

Oasis; It's Actually HAPPENING!!

Christ, it took all day for these fuckers to come on! Oh, wait, sorry - I’ve forgotten what time is, you’re good -

My Complete, Stupid Bad

Okay, let’s start with the most minimal kerfuffle one can have with Security - period, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t SUCK!

Again, it was my fault. I totally brought it on myself by not properly scouting the situation, but if you recall, I was sitting in ADA, and behind me was the wheelchair seating. Obviously, a guard is left for the folks in the wheelchair area at all shows, as they should be. What this meant for me is that not five seconds into Acquiesce, whilst thinking myself unseen from the previous drag taken from my vape cart, I received a friendly grab on my side from a man who just said, “Please don’t smoke.” It did not take a Rocket Scientist to realize this man was from Security, and he was only going to politely ask once.

He was right! My bad! I nodded a solid yes to him (because I wasn’t going to get kicked from this show, you kidding me?) and begrudgingly shoved my battery into the depths of my right pocket. He then proceeded to watch me like a hawk the rest of the night.

It was clear that one more puff meant I was gone, which, for an Oasis show, a band famous for a chorus that goes, “Where were you while we were getting high?” I had played this one poorly, for how I usually like to watch my live music.

Oh, well! 

It didn’t really make much of a difference. Music has that power to hit you in the dopamine just the same, and I was ready for a transcendental experience.

In case you’ve forgotten, 2025 has been a shitty year for a fuck-ton of people. I was no different, having lost my Dad in March and still cleaning up the literal and bureaucratic mess that awaits an only child in September with, seemingly, no end in sight for QUITE some time. We were nearly 6 months into trying to handle his affairs, and my impatience with the bullshit towards the matter was waning. 

During the Oasis set, I found myself with newfound appreciation for Cast No Shadow, thanks to Pops. Before he had a heart attack in a random condominium in South Carolina, I hadn’t talked with my Dad for six years. That fact is fine with me. He was a fine father when I was young. He went kind of a lot of crazy before he moved to a State he hated, only hitting me up occasionally for money, then really losing it before he died. It was better that we were estranged. No regrets there. At the same time, fucker was my dad, and while I was a kid, he was a good guy. He didn’t deserve the hand he got dealt. 

That hit hard during the chant of, “As they took his soul, they stole his pride.” The guy died with $156 in his bank account. He also made a complete mess of the place because life had driven him crazy. I think there’s a corollary one can draw here. They took his soul, and when that wasn’t enough, because it never is, when he’s on the ground, getting kicked and bleeding, you’re getting in shots, just to get them in, and that is where they also stole his pride. 

I hadn’t felt for the guy in years. Put up a facade and didn’t really care what happened in his corner, so long as he stayed in it. This man on stage, thirty years my Father’s junior, though, saw right through me in the second deck. He saw me and said, “I hear ya’ man. Sometimes they come in and take some. Sometimes they take it all. But, usually, they keep pickin’, vultures that they are.” And, for the first time, he helped me piece that together. Thank you, Oasis, and Liam. I won’t forget the experience soon.  

In addition, my best friend, while growing up, Rob, was the one who (somehow) was the larger Oasis fan between the two of us. We roomed in our first year of college, where I remember long nights of learning Oasis songs on guitar just to drunkenly yell the lyrics as loud as we could while everyone scurried to class. 

Rob and I became estranged for a number of reasons, just like my Dad and I. Rob also had a weird, undiagnosed (?) seizure disorder. A couple of years ago, he just upped and died in his sleep. I don’t have further details, but, yeah - The dude was 37, and now he - Wasn’t. 

I had bets on whether I’d cry or not during the show, with Oasis being such an emotionally moving batch of chaps and all. The odds were strongly in favor of crying. Only a few times did I find myself doing so, I’m happy to report. 

With some chips on my shoulders, I needed to get them wiped off. They were fucking my head up. There’s a line in Some Might Say where Liam talks about “Itchin’ in the kitchen once again.” This was a favorite of Rob’s. One he would belt extra hard if we were trying to look cool in front of people at parties. 

As a parting gift to him, I did the same, and for a second, we were 15 again, naively wondering what this weird British man was talking about.

In High School, Rob’s favorite debate to pose to unsuspecting people was, “Where were you while we were getting high?” He meant it philosophically, in the same way the song did - I know where I was and what I was doing and am okay with my actions in that timeframe - What were you up to?” 

There was a flash of a moment, where I was mouth agape at the big screens, where I could see more of what the Brothers did throughout the show, as Liam finished the outro to Champagne Supernova and did a finger-snap of some kind, right as the firework closing act let off into the sky. It was pretty easy to understand the symbolism present here, so I’ll just say my kudos to Rob and wish him well wherever he is. At least he gave me this to enjoy. 

I didn’t expect the emotional rollercoaster I experienced when seeing Oasis, but I guess I have been a fan for a good 25 years now, so you often forget the impact that something that has existed that long for you has. Emotional things aside, this was arguably one of the greatest rock shows of a crazy number of rock shows attended in my lifetime. I wish I’d had the money to follow them on this tour, but just the one performance was so tight, loud, and fear-assuaging, I’m happy sitting on my couch watching pictures of Liam wearing a giant sombrero on his head while playing a giant Mexican colosseum. I’ll definitely be around for every possible one the next time we get together, though, chaps! Stay brilliant.   

Tracklist:

Ladykillers • Heavenly Nobodies • 500 • I've Been Here Before • Papasan • Single Girl • Ciao! • Tralala • Last Night • Runaway • The Childcatcher • Olympia

Submitter's Note: Ciao! is a duet with Pulp frontman Jarvis Cocker.

Slip inside the eye of your mind

Don't you know you might find

A better place to play

You said that you'd never been

But all the things that you've seen

Slowly fade away

So I start a revolution from my bed

'Cause you said the brains I had went to my head

Step outside, summertime's in bloom

Stand up beside the fireplace

Take that look from off your face

You ain't ever gonna burn my heart out

And so Sally can wait

She knows it's too late

As we're walking on by

Her soul slides away

But don't look back in anger

I heard you say

Take me to the place where you go

Where nobody knows

If it's night or day

But please don't put your life in the hands

Of a rock and roll band

Who'll throw it all away

I'm gonna start a revolution from my bed

'Cause you said the brains I had went to my head

Step outside 'cause summertime's in bloom

Stand up beside the fireplace

Take that look from off your face

'Cause you ain't ever gonna burn my heart out

And so Sally can wait

She knows it's too late

As she's walking on by

My soul slides away

But don't look back in anger

I heard you say

So Sally can wait

She knows it's too late

As we're walking on by

Her soul slides away

But don't look back in anger

I heard you say

So Sally can wait

She knows it's too late

As she's walking on by

My soul slides away

But don't look back in anger

Don't look back in anger

I heard you say

Radiohead: OK Computer (1997)

For a band that started out peddling gimmicky, formulaic grunge via 1993’s “Creep” (the angsty single gave every indication of a copycat band, as undistinguished as Bush!), Radiohead sure came into their own via ‘95’s magnificent The Bends. 

Like most people, I felt that ‘97’s OK Computer was equally spectacular, though I only started spinning the album intensely during my only, rather miserable Minneapolis winter of ‘98/‘99, which may explain why I associated mostly chilly, wintry vibes with these songs, until I revisited them this week.

At its best, OK Computer erects veritable edifices to atmospheric melancholy, none of them “taller” than “Karma Police” (part waltz, part religious hymn), “No Surprises” (a lullaby to alienation) and “Paranoid Android” (hard rock mid-section notwithstanding), and each of them elevated, humanized by Thom Yorke’s anguished pathos.

Not that there’s anything minimalist about the album (beyond its cover art), because all of this subtlety and understatement obviously required a hell of a lot of work -- and nearly a year in the studio -- to conjure up!

This becomes evident just as soon as first cut “Airbag” floats sinister power chords and flamenco-flavored fast-picking (I wish I could say it was black metal-inspired) over those trip-hop beats, and is further illustrated by other standouts like “Let Down,” “Lucky” and slow-building “The Tourist.”

Even the album’s lesser lights (e.g. “Exit Music (For a Film),” “Electioneering,” “Climbing Up the Walls,” etc.) ultimately contribute to the whole, binding the highlights together into a truly immersive listening experience that’s no doubt largely responsible for the album attaining -- and retaining -- its “classic” status, down the years.

Like all of history’s truly brilliant albums, OK Computer is greater than the sum of its parts, and yet those parts, all on their lonesome, are pretty fucking great, as well.

There’s not much more to talk about, between Radiohead and me ...

Surprisingly, I really liked 2000’s electronics-drenched Kid A; and a timely road trip to watch the band play a massive outdoor gig in Montreal conveniently spirited me out of New York City in the nick of time to avoid the ‘Great Big Power Outage’ of 2003.

But, by then, I’d frankly given up on the band, after feeling entirely unmoved by 2001’s Amnesiac and ‘03’s Hail to the Thief -- can’t remember a single fucking song from either one -- though you’re welcome to state a case in their defense.

The last time I paid any attention to Radiohead, it was because of the fan-friendly, cutting-edge, flexible pricing model they rolled out with ‘07’s In Rainbows, and I’ll always respect them for that (you can count the number of superstar acts who have since followed this progressive and altruistic model on one hand), plus their superlative second, third, and fourth albums.

Tears For Fears: “Everybody Wants To Rule The World” (1985)

There are a handful of bands and artists that have made more impact with the release of one album than many manage over a whole career. The La’s, The Sex Pistols, Jeff Buckley and Minor Threat all spring to mind – each of their standalone albums made significant ripples in the fabric of popular culture without needing a follow up; perhaps even actively benefiting from the lack of an otherwise inconsistent or disappointing discography to dilute their impact. The Stone Roses self titled debut is not one of these albums, but only due to the existence of their underwhelming 1994 follow-up Second Coming (an album which, much like their disciples Oasis, sank their career by totally misunderstanding what it was that made their music so good in the first place). At the tail end of the 80s pop music was starting to turn away from gated drum hits and day-glo synthesizers and back towards guitars again – in the US bands were following the trail laid down by Pixies to bring dramatic, quiet/loud dynamics to a dark but direct form of rock music that would ultimately go on to be called Grunge, whilst in the UK The Stone Roses essentially birthed a whole new genre with their combination of hard, danceable beats, psychedelic guitar textures and rock music’s classic song structures and melodic sensibilities. This sound spawned hundreds of imitators and eventually paved the way for the Brit-pop explosion that defined the 90s. It’s important to talk about the context of the era when discussing this album, as it represents one of those rare and pivotal moments that counter-culture burst into the mainstream and redirected the course of popular music indefinitely. The real beauty of The Stone Roses though, is that when all of that is stripped away, when all of the cultural relevance and historical baggage is removed and the timestamp of the era’s production sensibility is ignored; what remains is a set of absolutely fantastic pop songs – I genuinely can’t think of many albums that would stand up so well in a cultural vacuum as this. A large part of the credit must go to legendary producer John Leckie, who had his work cut out in the studio turning this group of scruffy pranksters into a tight musical outfit. Ian Brown was a charismatic frontman but a decidedly average singer, John Squire was a hugely talented guitarist with a tendency for self-indulgence, and the rhythm section of Mani and Reni had a deft understanding of dance rhythms but hadn’t yet achieved the tightness required to make them stick. Listening to the bands early recordings it’s clear how much Leckie whipped them into shape for their debut album; polishing the rhythms to a tight, brittle shine, pushing Squire’s frantic guitar squiggles to the front but keeping them doused in reverb to cast them as textural, and then burying Brown’s half whispered melodies in the dense mix so that they float through the songs like ecstatic spirits. Whilst Leckie performed an impressive feat scrubbing the band up, they were clearly more than ready for it as the songwriting on display here is consistently impressive from start to finish – the textural experiment of ‘Don’t Stop’ and the royalty baiting ‘Scarborough Fair’ referencing miniature ‘Elizabeth My Dear’ aside, every song here is a melodic pop masterpiece. ‘I Wanna Be Adored’ is a slightly misleading opener, revelling in its dramatic, teasing introduction, progressing into a thunderous chug and casting Brown as a sinister and vaguely demonic presence – it’s bright, chiming middle eight section is the only glimpse of the pop classicism that the rest of the album trades in. ‘She Bangs the Drums’ follows with it’s insistent rhythmic bounce and shimmering, flowing guitars; it’s exuberant and electrifying in a way that best exemplifies everything the band were doing at this stage in their career. ‘Waterfall’ is loping and swirling, with Brown’s sticky melody taking centre stage, whilst ‘Bye Bye Badman’ shifts gears between a low-key verse and bright, sunny chorus that references Rockabilly with it’s bright guitar strums. The second half of the album moves into more direct territory, with the aching, soaring ‘(Song for My) Sugar Spun Sister’, the massive anthem ‘Made of Stone’, and the moody slink of ‘Shoot You Down’ preceding the triumphant closing duo of ‘This is the One’ and ‘I Am the Resurrection’. These two final tracks each take a half of the bands trademark sound and takes it to it’s logical conclusion – ‘This is the One’ is a dramatic burst of shimmering guitar textures, anthemic choruses and a dense, swirling finale that sends the song off into space; whereas ‘I Am the Resurrection’ rides a tight, skipping backbeat and irresistible bassline for eight solid minutes of exuberant pop melodies and psychedelic guitar theatrics, with Squire finally getting to fully let rip over the tracks closing half. As a set of songs it’s tight, consistent and classic from start to finish and it shows perfectly what a set of talented individuals can make when they have a steady hand to guide them toward perfection. Yet as an album, it’s a landmark in popular music and a cultural touchstone that still has a resonating influence to this day – there isn’t a single upcoming rock band in the UK that doesn’t draw influence from The Stone Roses, be it directly or otherwise. Of course, the less said about Second Coming and their cringe-worthy 2016 comeback the better. So instead, here’s to classic albums and knowing how to quit while you’re ahead…