Almost two years ago in this column, I wrote “if Oasis ever do reform, I might be glad to have my box of memories to really lean into the nostalgia. Will I print off a paper version of my QR code for posterity? Definitely. Maybe.”
I truly can scarcely believe that this weekend, it’s happening. The hysteria is almost overwhelming. The Aldi in East Wall temporarily changed its name to “Aldi Wonder Wall”.
There are tattoo pop ups, pub takeovers, frantic ticket searches and pleas online to “swap seated for standing” as incredulous diehards scramble to be in the mix at Croke Park.
I’m a diehard, and I’m going both nights. One seated, one standing. A lovely balance. Obviously, I can’t wait to see Oasis, the Gallagher brothers together again, eyebrow to eyebrow. I’m excited to see the crowd too.
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A friend went in Wembley Stadium a couple of weeks ago and said it was “like an Adidas convention”. Oasis, in a shrewd business move, have leant heavily into the merchandising side of things. Their fans are middle-aged now. They have disposable income and have decided, en masse, to wear their Oasis hearts on their sleeves, literally. My teenage Oasis T-shirts are long gone, so I’ve bought two more in something of a panic.
I’m worried I might not be able for all the dads crying. I’ve seen a lot of videos, from Edinburgh, Manchester, Cardiff, London, of beefy men reduced to tears as Liam and Noel tag team the lyrics in Acquiesce – because we need each other, we believe in each other – or Hello – it’s good to be back, said it’s good to be back.
It’s dads of all ages, from 30 to 60 and beyond. It’s almost as if the reunion announcement, the thundering helicopters at the beginning of What’s the Story Morning Glory? awoke a horde of Oasis faithful from their slumber and they’ve all staggered bleary and teary eyed towards the sound.
I’m attending both concerts with my best friend and the one person who never gave up hope on Noel and Liam one day burying the hatchet: Ireland’s biggest Oasis fan Sarah Breen.
[ Oasis in Cardiff: This was emotionalOpens in new window ]
She had to take a day off school when Liam Gallagher married Patsy Kensit. She was barred from the Merrion Hotel for sneaking in to meet Liam and Bonehead when Oasis were in Dublin in 2003 for their Heathen Chemistry tour. Her kids roll their eyes when she goes on one of her Oasis rants but can identify the opening chords of any song within seconds which will surely stand to them during their teenage years and beyond. She owns more T-shirts than I thought possible. Her credentials are solid.
On the evening of the first gig of Live ’25 in Cardiff, Sarah and I legged it from a work event to the nearest pub. I found someone on TikTok generously livestreaming the show from the Principality Stadium and we propped my phone up between us and took an earbud each.
[ Oasis revival is 2025’s Brat Summer. It lets us dream of a better timeOpens in new window ]
“Oh my God, the dads are crying,” Sarah wailed, crying herself. There’s something beautiful about seeing men weeping in public at something they love. It’s often sports-related. The emotions Oasis are bringing out in the dads might be similar to the happy tears evoked by seeing a favourite team storm to victory.
We all remember that clip of veteran Irish Times journalist John Healy crying in a Dublin Castle press tent when Ireland went through on penalties against Romania in Italia 90. Paul Gascoigne famously cried during Italia 90 too, emotion spilling out after a yellow card dashed his hopes of a spot in the semi-final against West Germany. There’s a sporting edge to the Oasis reunion show too. During Cigarettes and Alcohol Liam instructs the crowd to “do the poznan”, a football celebration adopted by the Gallagher brothers’ beloved Man City.
There’s more to dads than football and Oasis, of course, but the open-armed response to this reunion and a chance to see men experience joy akin to that evoked by Taylor Swift’s Eras Tour has been the highlight of the summer.
Hell, I even feel some sort of fatherly pride seeing Liam and Noel – “our kid” to each other – hug and celebrate on stage. Estranged from their own father, the brothers might just feel the love coming from thousands of dads in Croke Park this weekend. If those dads are crying, you’ll find me in a puddle on the floor.
