Oasis are back
Oasis are back. And it’s not just the usual reunion fanfare. On July 4th, Liam and Noel walked out at the Principality Stadium in Cardiff for the first show of Oasis 25, and something in the national mood says this isn’t just about music. This is about memory, identity, and something more personal: the emotional outlet they gave to a generation of British men who never really had one.
Tickets? Gone. Hotels? Hammering fans for every penny. And no doubt, outside the stadium, someone will be flogging Liam and Noel half-and-half scarves.
But for some of us, the reason we still care isn’t the hype. It’s because Oasis gave lads like us something we weren’t supposed to need… a way to feel things, even when we couldn’t say them.
The music got in
Maybe it’s because they were too big. Too obvious. And you’d always got those wannabe-Liam lads on a stag do, stomping around in knock-off trackies and dodgy haircuts, shouting their heads off in the kebab queue. Same energy as some bloke in a Matrix coat at a Marilyn Manson gig… it was never the band that put me off, but the circus around them sometimes did.
But even if you tried to resist it, the music got in. The lyrics, the chords, the way Liam sang like he meant every word, reached you in ways nothing else did. Their strength is in their songs: traditional, secure, reliable guitar-based rock that rests on a tried and tested formula. Verse, chorus, verse, chorus, middle eight, chorus, end.
You didn’t cry. You didn’t talk.
Back in the 90s and early 00s, mental health wasn’t a conversation. Especially not for British men. You didn’t cry. You didn’t talk. I remember a couple of tears sneaking out during The Shawshank Redemption, not just “getting emotional,” but actual tears, and pretending to sneeze or yawn, anything to hide it. That was the level of emotional self-policing. You couldn’t even let that out. You kept your head down. Got on with it. Took the piss out of anyone who didn’t. That was the rule. Feelings were weakness. End of.
And that silence had future consequences. Quiet breakdowns. Numb marriages. Panic attacks passed off as “just stress.” We’ve made some progress since, but even now, suicide is still the biggest killer of men under 50 in the UK (CALM, citing ONS).
Laurence’s full article is published on LBB Online. Read the rest on LBB.
If you are struggling, you do not have to deal with it alone. Samaritans can be contacted free on 116 123, and CALM offers free, confidential support.
