We weren’t super keen on going to the States with everything that’s going on there, but we had pounced on the Oasis Live ’25 tickets before the country melted down. However, once I started seeing the highlights of friends and the Internet from the first shows in the UK, I knew I had to go.
What first struck me was how the Oasis brand had taken over Chicago. Especially considering the fact that they weren’t as big in North America as they were in the UK and Europe. But one headline I read called it, “the Eras Tour for blokes,” and that guy nailed it. We got to Chicago two days before the show and they were already in the grips of Oasis fever.
One of the more brilliant parts of the marketing of the tour was a collab with Adidas (and the accompanying pop-up stores). There were thousands of people around us in downtown Chicago and every fourth person was decked out in Oasis gear. Strangers were walking down the street, pointing at each other’s shirts and bucket hats and high-fiving or fist bumping. And while there were plenty of Gen X dudes, there were also plenty of women and younger fans in the mix, some who weren’t even alive when Morning Glory dropped. Perhaps proof that the band’s myth outlived its own self-destruction.
On the night of the show we got some Chicago Deep Dish pizza (we considered a pub and British fish n’ chips but this was also a Chicago mission). After dinner and a couple of pints, we joined a crowd of thousands making their way to Soldier Field. The show was sold out — 52,000 people packed into the stadium. It was a veritable sea of bucket hats.
I was a little worried at the start of the show as the sound was a bit wonky and the drummer seemed to be speeding up and slowing down, making the music sound like a worn-out cassette tape. But after a few numbers, everybody found their zone. I’d argue they sounded better now than they did when I saw them in Calgary in around 2008, or even the live Knebworth 96’ show. Probably a lot less cocaine dripping down the back of Liam’s throat these days.
Last year, we saw the Stones in Vancouver, which was a stellar show. At the centre of it, Mick Jagger, in his 80s, ran up and down the stage for more than two hours, thrilling the crowd. Liam Gallagher, however, remains one of rock’s great statues. He doesn’t run around the stage, doesn’t fling himself into the crowd, doesn’t dance. He stalks, glowers, and postures like a gargoyle in sunglasses. He’ll mumble or holler a few words between songs, but good luck catching them without subtitles. Still, it works. He doesn’t have to move; his coolness does the heavy lifting. Vocally, Liam was never a perfect singer, but he hit the right notes with rasp and sneer intact.
Noel, meanwhile, is Noel: calm, unfazed, and holding it all together. He’s not a flashy guitarist, but he creates a massive sound, like a brick wall of guitars. When the two brothers are in sync, Oasis is a sonic sledgehammer.
They also know what the people want. The setlist leaned heavy on the hits, with a minimum of filler. Most of the tracks were from the first few albums of banger anthems and they hit hard. ‘Live Forever’ rattled the stadium and ‘Wonderwall’ had every drunk uncle singing along. ‘Don’t Look Back in Anger’ could have doubled as a citywide choir rehearsal. Liam wasn’t even singing it by the end, just flicking his ears to tell the crowd to take it home. And to top it off, Liam had the entire crowd do a football poznan, which was a bit confusing at first to some of the American crowd, but ultimately electrifying.
As for merch: my ticket to the pop-up store was the day after the show and the place was pretty picked over by the time I got there. They were out of all that sweet Adidas stuff. I did grab a couple of shirts. I found after that you could buy the gear online now too, but by then I realized I only need so many items of Oasis branded clothing.
In the end, Oasis didn’t reinvent themselves in Chicago, but they didn’t need to. It had been 17 years since the band had played an American show and those 52,000 people didn’t come for reinvention. They came to be swallowed by that sound, to belt out the choruses, and to relive (or discover) the swagger of the Gallagher Brothers. For a night, Oasis felt like the biggest band in the world again.
