To the Brits, Oasis is everything. They’re up there with The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, and even Queen.
To Americans, though, the story is a little different. Most of us might halfheartedly hum the chorus of “Wonderwall” at a dive bar and call it a night. For most of my life, my knowledge of Oasis was limited to exactly that: a vaguely remembered chorus, a few Pinterest images of zipped-to-the-top windbreakers, and a random memory of Matty Healy begging the Gallagher brothers in an interview to grow up and headline Glastonbury.
That was the extent of it, until two summers ago, when I stepped into an unruly pub in Galway, Ireland. And then another pub in Dublin. And another. Every time, there was one song that was louder than the rest. The chorus would start, and suddenly everyone had their arms around their mates’ shoulders, swaying and chanting over the acoustic guitarist. Something about a girl named Sally (no, not the Role Model song).
Eventually, my very drunk friend and I typed a few lyrics into Spotify and discovered it was none other than “Don’t Look Back in Anger.” From then on, it became our song. We pregamed to it, blasted it in our cars, and laughed about how we were probably the only two twenty-year-olds on Long Island who suddenly gave a shit about Oasis.
So naturally, when the band announced their reunion and the subsequent Oasis Live ’25 World Tour, it felt like our time to shine.
Dress code
We arrived at MetLife Stadium as basically the only girls there without boyfriends or families in tow. It was clear the American crowd was trying its best to emulate the classic British bloke look. The stadium was a sea of Adidas stripes and Manchester City jerseys (and I guarantee most people had no idea what the Premier League is, but hey, if Oasis loves it, so do we).
The cultural clashes were everywhere: bucket hats traded for baseball caps, proper pints replaced by overpriced $15 cans of Stella Artois. And yet, as we were smushed between balding beer-bellied men and rowdy post-grad frat boys, there was this intangible, unbridled energy hanging over the crowd, waiting for the Britpop legends to walk out.
The dynamic duo
When the sky turned from orange dusk to black and Cage the Elephant wrapped up their set, the anticipation exploded. The big screens lit up with Oasis’ iconic logo in bold, slanted white letters, and the stadium roared. Guitars riffed, cymbals crashed, and the monitors flashed collages of Liam and Noel through the ’90s and early 2000s. Headlines about their feuds, rumors of a reunion, and fan tweets swirled into a montage.
And then, there they were. The brothers strolled onto the stage hand in hand, glorious as ever. Liam, in his all-black uniform of a sleek windbreaker, sunglasses, and a maraca, still looked like a rockstar. Noel, in jeans and a long-sleeve shirt, looked more like someone’s dad, but who cares!
They opened with Hello. Fitting, really, for a band that hadn’t played New York since 2008.
While I’m used to concerts filled with high-pitched, existential screams from fangirls, I was unprepared for the wild display of emotions at this one. Beer flew through the air. Union Jacks waved high. General Admission transformed into a mosh pit of sweaty, jumping bodies.
There’s something addictive about the dynamic: the intensely devoted fans versus the Gallagher brothers’ total I-don’t-give-a-fuck attitude. Thick Manc accents filled the breaks between songs, every sentence laced with nonchalant profanity, layered over what might have been the loudest sound system I’ve ever heard.
Amped up with sickening guitars and the nasally whine of Liam’s vocals, he sang every tune with his hands either behind his back or shaking a tambourine. He hardly addressed the crowd except to gloat: “They said you wouldn’t do it, America, and you fucking did it.” Somehow, his apathy became completely and totally cool. He stared us down through the camera, never once cracking a smile. It was terrifying and magnetic all at once.
Meanwhile, Noel lingered off to the side the whole night, steady on his guitar, even when it was his turn to sing. The imbalance was obvious, the old tension lingering in the air—but it didn’t matter. They were there together. And that was enough.
Set list
The setlist was stacked with one feel-good anthem after another. The electricity of “Morning Glory,” “Slide Away,” and “Supersonic” melted into the mellow acoustics of “Half the World Away” and “Talk Tonight.” Somewhere in between, Liam told the crowd to “turn around and give each other a little cuddle.” So we did. We locked arms with strangers, turned our backs to the stage, and jumped around like fools. It was perfect.
The show itself was quite simple. No elaborate visuals, no gimmicks, and honestly, the backdrops were horrible. But no one cared. No one had their phone out recording, either. Everyone was there for the music.
And when it came time for the encore, Oasis didn’t save just one hit for last. They stacked them all. “The Masterplan,” “Don’t Look Back in Anger,” “Wonderwall,” and finally “Champagne Supernova.” Fireworks lit the sky, drunk fans chanted the lyrics, and the entire stadium filled with awe.
Oasis is for the girls, too
For most people, it was a night of nostalgia and brotherhood, both between the Gallaghers themselves and among the fans who’d waited over a decade for this reunion. Yet, for me, it felt like walking into a football game without knowing the rules, swept up in the energy anyway. And somehow, I walked out a full-fledged superfan of the team.
Oasis makes me want to rebrand myself—to not take life too seriously, to embrace a little swagger, maybe even throw on a tracksuit now and then.
As my friend and I took the dreaded New Jersey Transit back to New York, I couldn’t help but realize Oasis isn’t just ‘our thing.’ No one in our circle quite understands why we’re obsessed with two fifty-year-old British brothers and their guitars, but there are die-hards who’ve waited their whole lives to experience the music live, sharing it with their families, their friends, their brothers and sisters. And while we may not have been there for their prime, they’ve won us over now.
SEAN KING
October 2, 2025 at 9:47 pm
Mad fer it! “NJ/NY vibes in the area!”