A voice declares “this is not a drill”, a barrage of reunion headlines fill the stadium-wide screens. Two brothers walk on a stage hand-in-hand, one wails “hello, hello, it’s good to be back” while the other provides grunge-glam guitar, and it’s like Caesar swaggered home.
And so, after much fan frenzy and media frothing, finally begins the rock reunion to end them all. And that’s no overstatement. It’s tough to imagine another non-pop comeback on such a momentous scale that might keep the reunion industry ticking over in years to come. Could The Smiths fill seven Wembley Stadiums overnight? A reunited Pink Floyd? Led Zeppelin, even? And what are the chances of those ever happening?
To fully conceive the significance of the Oasis reunion we must finally crystalise their place in rock’n’roll history. Throughout the Nineties they cockily aspired to be the biggest British band since The Beatles, and by some measures they were. The Stones, Queen, Zep, U2 and Floyd all had their triumphal eras and several shifted more units, but consider this – if all two-million people who applied for tickets to see Oasis at Knebworth in 1996 had got one, the band would have played 16 nights there.
That was the mark of a true phenomenon; in comparison, punk was but a (extraordinarily influential) flash in the pan. And – uniquely – it’s a phenomenon which the bucket hat-wearing hordes of Cardiff’s Principality Stadium get to relive authentically tonight. Unlike the recent Blur and Pulp reunions, the euphoria involved in watching the Gallagher brothers together onstage after 16 years of virulent animosity is little to do with hearing these songs played live again. Although, over two hours of Oasis hits uninterrupted by solo material is a massive fan rush that has much of this mixed and surprisingly unladdish crowd roaring along like Britpop warriors throughout. There’s not much of the setlist tonight that you couldn’t have heard any time in the past 10 years or so performed by one ‘Are Kid or the other. Yes, there is a life-affirming Hollywood ending to the sight of warring brothers united after such a long, vicious and tawdry online soap opera, described by one hysterical backstage newscaster as “Shakespearean”. But that too is only a third of the “Morning Glory” story.
The real underlying thrill is of a historical moment fully revived. For all the laddish boorishness which Oasis undoubtedly encapsulated, the Britpop era, for Millennials and Gen Zers alike, is as halcyon as Beatlemania or the summer of love – a time of vivid colour, jubilant melody, political stability and affordable flats. And to be a part of this second wind of torrid Oasismania, hyped by effusive press coverage and leading to historic shows such as this one, is as close to actually “being there” as it’s possible to get. For this multi-generational crowd, both nostalgia heads and those who’ve waited a whole lifetime to spend a day in the Gallaghers’ reflected sunshine, Oasis in Cardiff is their bona fide Shea Stadium 1965. Two million wanted Knebworth ‘96 tickets; 14 million wanted tickets to this tour. This generation’s Oasis moment is now.
That the show opens with “Hello”, a thunderous, brotherly “Acquiesce” – “We need each other/ We believe in one another,” Noel admits, fairly convincingly – and a Liam cry of “Yes beautiful people, we turned up!” is as predictable as the lager showers that greet each, but this is not a night for the obtuse. “Some Might Say” follows “Morning Glory” and Oasis pile into the hit-hammering job in hand, in chunky and re-energised form. The punk roots of “Bring it on Down” and “Cigarettes and Alcohol” – thrown out early, with Liam strangely insisting we turn our backs on them until the riff kicks in – may re-curl their classic snarl. Oasis were never a band of much emotional venting or brotherly onstage banter. But there is a heartwarming closure in seeing the two juxtaposed on side-by-side screen panels, sharing chorus lines like “some might say we will find a brighter day” again.
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The cockiness of 50 million quid or so in each of their back pockets prompts bold moves. “Supersonic”, one of their best songs, rockets by just half an hour in. “Roll With It”, amongst their most pedestrian, pounds out like a highlight of the canon, strafed with expensive psychedelic montage visuals, and is duly received as such. At a momentous moment in even his elevated career, Noel mumbles his crowd chat before an exquisite solo segment of “Talk Tonight”, a rousing, horn-stroked “Half the World Away” – rock’s ultimate b-side singalong? – and a swelling, kaleidoscopic “Little By Little” as though he’s trying to justify a pumped-up plumbing quote.
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Restraining order conditions presumably fulfilled, Liam returns for an inevitable period of mid-set plodding. “D’You Know What I Mean” is an elephantine slab of stodge with no purpose other than to prove they can recover from it. Thankfully a majestic, Bowie-honouring “Stand By Me”, festooned with visuals of family snapshots, makes it look like a disco nap and “Cast No Shadow” quickly regains sublime ground. From there it’s a historic closing stretch: an almighty “Slide Away”; the crowd carrying the orchestral refrain of “Whatever”; an elemental “Live Forever”, complete with a back-of-shirt tribute to late Liverpool star Diogo Jota.
Having punched their way out of the main set with a climactic “Rock’n’Roll Star” and returned to introduce “uber legend” Bonehead on guitar, they construct the sort of vaulting encore that their Nineties peers could only sporadically match. Noel’s elegantly crafted “The Masterplan” sets up a roof-rattling singalong to “Don’t Look Back in Anger” that makes the subsequent “Wonderwall” feel slight, and “Champagne Supernova” sends Cardiff home suitable heart-swollen and glimmer-eyed.
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All the hits, precious little slack and a casual brotherly hug as they leave. “Was it worth the £40,000 you paid for a ticket?” Liam asks at one point, and the most gouged among us howls the affirmative. To a reviewer who saw Oasis both at Knebworth and on many a post-Nineties slogathon, this is the best they’ve been since ‘96. Some might say better.
