“Are they fighting yet?” my mom texted while we found our seats at the Oasis concert. Noel and Liam Gallagher comprise the core of Oasis, the 90s Britpop band that produced hits such as “Champagne Supernova” and the ubiquitous “Wonderwall.” The Manchester-born Gallagher brothers are also perhaps the most famous feuding siblings since Cain and Abel. Their rancorous relationship has been blotted over the years by drug-fueled fights and screaming matches (a 14-minute recording of one such heated occasion even cracked the top 100 chart in the UK). So when the Gallaghers announced the long-awaited reunion of Oasis in August of 2024, many, including my mom, thought the tour would be doomed by the same friction that led to the fracture of the band in 2009.
They were wrong. The Oasis concert I attended on August 31 at MetLife Stadium, less than 10 miles outside of Manhattan, was the perfect distillation of what makes the band timeless: a blend of loud and unrelenting rock ‘n’ roll energy with a dash of triumphant melancholy. Having completed 26 sold-out shows in the UK, Europe, and North America, the only ‘breaking’ so far has been on Ticketmaster. The website repeatedly crashed as millions rushed to purchase their chance to see a band that hasn’t released new music in nearly 17 years.
Fans patient enough to surmount endless queues and technical difficulties were met with exorbitant prices. This was due to Ticketmaster’s controversial use of ‘dynamic pricing’, which adjusts ticket prices based on demand (one $135 ticket more than doubled to $350 when the sale began).
As I got a sense of the resale landscape, I watched my chances of snagging a decently priced ticket fall apart. It got to the point that I began to see a $700 general-admission floor ticket as relatively affordable. That being said, I felt like it was now or never to see this band I had idolised since middle school. Like a detective, I spent hours flipping through and automatically refreshing ticketing websites to find a good price. I even considered flying to Toronto, where tickets were cheaper. Finally, the day before the concert at MetLife, I was able to find two seats with ’obstructed views’ for passable, though otherwise laughable, prices.
Dressed in Lennon-esque sunglasses and a green bucket hat, my brother and I left early to catch the opening acts, Cast and Cage the Elephant. Though unfamiliar with Cast, walking into the concrete monolith of MetLife to the sound of their loud guitar-rock supercharged my excitement. After waiting in the long merchandise line for an overpriced t-shirt, we went to our seats and, thankfully, the only thing obstructing our view was the metal support tower for a colossal speaker. When Cage the Elephant came roaring out, I was astonished by the boundless energy of their frontman, Matt Shultz, who sprinted back and forth across the stage while belting bluesy rock like “Ain’t No Rest for the Wicked” and pop-rock anthems like “Cigarette Daydreams.” Schultz exclaimed how happy he was to be there, echoing the grateful and eager attitude of a stadium full of fans who never thought they’d be able to see Oasis in concert.
After Cage the Elephant finished their set, the restless crowd waited with bated breath. At almost exactly 8:45 p.m., shocked that a band known for their renegade attitude would be so timely, a compilation of reunion headlines and amazed social media posts began flashing to the heavy drumming, bent guitar, and choral ‘ah’s of the song “F****n’ in the Bushes.” Then, all at once, the band came striding onto the stage to rapturous applause. Noel looked stoic as ever. Liam, in his usual black parka and holding a pair of maracas, began screaming a cry for “Oasis fans in the area” as the massive screens behind him announced “New Jersey, this is happening.” The refrain of the aptly-named opener “Hello” — “It’s good to be back” — was given enhanced meaning.
Liam sounded incredible, a far cry from his mangled vocals in the mid-2000s and diminished range throughout the 2010s. That night, he ripped through tune after tune with a precision, passion, and power that nearly rivaled his classic 90s falsetto. Similarly, the band was on point, with Noel, Paul “Bonehead” Arthurs, Colin “Gem” Archer, and Andy Bell playing each song with intensity and emotion while not missing a note.
The setlist they chose mostly focused on their earlier, more popular, and critically acclaimed albums like “(What’s the Story) Morning Glory?” and “Definitely Maybe” while also playing a few highlights from later work like Noel’s ethereal 2002 ballad “Little by Little.” It was close to a perfect Oasis setlist, though I would’ve loved to hear deeper cuts like “Boneheads Bank Holiday” and the not-so-hidden gem “She’s Electric.”
The band had finally achieved the kind of American welcome that had eluded them in the 90s. A particular highlight was before the shredded guitar introduction to “Cigarettes and Alcohol”, when the largely American audience was instructed to turn around, put their arms around one another, and bounce, a British football ritual known as the ‘Poznan.’
A creature of the digital age, I was shocked to see so few phones in the air. I had never felt more a part of a crowd-community, one that was evidently multigenerational and diverse in every sense of the word. Despite free-flowing cans of beer and the smell of marijuana wafting through the air, almost everyone was present and savouring each moment they had waited so long for.
Liam’s humour and boastful playfulness were on full display, placing a tambourine between his teeth during “Acquiesce” and making rambling, quasi-inspirational speeches between songs: “The record companies says you gotta play the game, kids, or you’ll be chopped liver… Well I can stand here tonight in front of you beautiful people in this magnificent stadium and tell you, you don’t have to play the f***ing game.”
At the same time, the band also put their humanity in plain view. Noel seemed to almost tear up during his gut-wrenching performance of “Half the World Away,” a gentle elegy about wanting to escape yourself. Liam expressed appreciation to their fans during interludes and even dedicated “Live Forever” to “the kiddies in Minneapolis”, referring to the Annunciation Catholic School shooting four days earlier that left two children dead.
After two hours of humour, humanity, and joy, Oasis ended the concert by playing a medley of hits: “Don’t Look Back in Anger,” “Wonderwall,” and “Champagne Supernova.” As someone who wasn’t alive during Oasis’ most influential decade, I can confidently say this concert was not a nostalgic cash-grab. The band seemed genuinely happy and excited to be back on stage, with the siblings sharing smiles and concluding with a brotherly embrace and celebratory fireworks. The Gallaghers are better together because they perfectly complement one another: Liam’s voice and presence with Noel’s words and melodies make for pure musical magic. I left elated, treasuring the ringing in my ears and the chance to have seen one of my favourite bands live.