Oasis at Wembley
I have never seen so many bucket hats in one place. This was the eighth show since Oasis reunited. Inside Wembley, with ninety thousand people, there must have been fifty thousand bucket hats and seventy thousand Adidas jackets. Everyone seemed determined to return to the summer of 1995.
The word Zeitgeist is usually translated as “the spirit of the times.” I first came across it during a pitch for a British fashion brand. A colleague argued that today’s British spirit is nostalgia. On the insight slide were photos of Noel Gallagher and Pep Guardiola — one for working-class swagger, the other for urban taste. It was almost poetic that both appeared at Wembley. A cardboard cutout of Guardiola stood behind the drums. Noel dedicated “The Masterplan” to him and Manchester City, and the stadium erupted in boos. However much you love Oasis, City is still unacceptable.
Lately when I listen to music, I keep thinking about the spirit of the times. This is the era of Taylor Swift, Billie Eilish, Sabrina Carpenter. Even the more alternative names — Lorde, Laufey — belong to a new mood. I often wonder if holding on to 90s Britpop makes me out of date.
Richard Ashcroft opened the show. Hearing “Bitter Sweet Symphony” live, and “The Drugs Don’t Work,” which carried me through so many sleepless nights, felt like nostalgia without shame. Oasis leaned fully into it. Of the twenty-three songs that night, twenty came from their 1994 and 1995 albums.
In the past two years, I also saw Pulp and Blur reunite. Compared to them, only Oasis still feels universally popular. Perhaps only The Beatles could rival their cultural reach.
Liam wore a velvet bucket hat and a high-neck work jacket, hands behind his back, expression sour and proud. He said that lately everything he says is wrong, so he would try not to talk too much tonight. The F word appeared anyway. What surprised me was his voice. It has barely aged. It still carries that stubborn, fragile, slightly arrogant English tone as he sang “Live Forever.”
The audience had not aged either. Beside me stood a family of four. The father, slightly overweight and balding, looked like a classic Oasis fan. The son was in his early twenties. The daughter, maybe fifteen, still had braces. Her brother lifted her onto his shoulders. During “Whatever,” the father lifted her again. She waved her arms while the band sang, I’m free to be whatever I choose.
If this were only a night about 1995, how do we explain the teenagers? For them, seeing Oasis reunite might be what it would mean for us to see The Beatles return in their original form.
Nostalgia is never only about music. To understand Britain today is to understand this longing. Economic decline, rising taxes, pubs closing, trains rattling, supermarket prices climbing, England’s men football team losing again and again. Since Brexit, there has been a quiet sense of fading national confidence.In that atmosphere, Oasis returning feels like a shot of nostalgic dopamine. A distinctly British way of breathing through disappointment.
When I left Wembley and returned to the present, I felt oddly calm. I am grateful to visit the past from time to time, to live for a few hours in a decade that sometimes feels more suited to me than the one I inhabit.
Even Oasis has reunited. Perhaps one day, we will gather again too. The world feels a little less loose, less endless than before — whether that is good or bad, I am not sure.
我从来没有在任何场合见过这么多形形色色的渔夫帽。
这是绿洲重组后的第八场演出，在九万人的温布利体育场里，大概有五万顶渔夫帽、七万件阿迪达斯，所有人似乎铁了心要回到1995年夏天。
英文中Zeitgeist被翻译为“时代精神”，初识这个词来自于一个英伦服饰品牌的比稿，同事挖掘出今时今日英国的“时代精神”是怀旧，用户洞察部分则贴上了Noel Gallagher和瓜迪奥拉的图，分别代表英伦工人阶级与都市品味男士。有趣的是，他俩都登上了温布利的舞台，瓜迪奥拉的人形立牌全程矗立在有缸身后，他说把Masterplan献给瓜迪奥拉与曼城，引来全场大嘘声——无论多爱绿洲，曼城还是不行。
最近听音乐我常想到Zeitgeist，总觉得似乎某些音乐已经远落后于时代了。这个时代是Taylor Swift, Billie Eilish, Sabrina Carpenter, 再小众一点也得是Lorde, Laufey们代表的新气象。顽固不化地抱着90年代Britpop不放手的我，常常想他们是否早已不合时宜。
暖场来自Richard Ashcroft，The Verve主唱。现场听传世名曲Bitter Sweet Symphony，和陪伴了我无数失眠夜的The Drugs Don’t Work，真是一种毫无廉耻的怀旧。
绿洲自然也要将这股追忆进行到底，全场金曲大合唱，23三首歌中，有20首都是来自1994、1995年两张经典专辑。 过去两年，我见证过Pulp和Blur的重聚演出。对比下更能体会到，只有绿洲，还是得绿洲，才是最普世流行的那支乐队，或许只有披头士在大众文化影响方面能够击败他们。
他们唱着那些伟大的歌曲，Liam Gallagher戴着天鹅绒渔夫帽，穿着高领工装，全程背手臭脸，满足了“素质极低的摇滚明星”的想象。他说：最近我说什么错什么，所以我他妈决定今天少说废话。少有的几段发言自然是F word不离嘴。令人惊讶的是，这位中年混混的声音好像从未老去，跟他的21岁巅峰状态时的录音室专辑几乎如出一辙，还是那个倔强的英伦少年音，用脆弱且欠揍的声线演绎Live Forever。
并未老去的还有绿洲的听众。站在我身边的一家四口，父亲是典型的绿洲粉丝，稍稍发福，中年秃顶，儿子不过二十出头，小女儿还带着牙套，也就十五六岁。哥哥先把她举在肩头，爸爸再在Whatever时把她举起，她不停地挥舞着双手时，绿洲在唱I’m free to be whatever I choose——如果这只是一个激起人们对 1995 年夏天无限回忆的夜晚，你该如何解释这些十几岁和二十几岁的年轻人的狂热呢？对他们来说，有机会看到绿洲重组演出，可能相当于我们这个年纪的人看到披头士原班人马重组吧。
无论是怀旧还是追星，音乐从来不只是音乐，理解英国生活便能理解这种怀旧的来源。在今天的英国，绿洲重组之所以重要，有更现实的原因。经济萎缩，税收上涨，酒吧永久关闭，火车吱吱作响，超市物价飞涨，英格兰男足屡次败北，甚至英国几十年来一直没有培养出除了酷玩外更多的主流摇滚乐队？
这个话题可以延展到脱欧以来，英国性的不断衰落。还有什么能让整个国家振奋的东西呢？除了英格兰女足外，好像并不多了。绿洲重组，正是为这些四五十岁的英国人们注入一剂怀旧多巴胺，一种独属于英国的“呼愁”。
看完绿洲，回到现实，我很高兴能一直在过去游玩，在一个我经常觉得比我所在的时代更适合我的时代生活一段时间。连绿洲都重组了，你我总有一天还会聚在一起，世界已经不再那么松散无边了（无论好或者坏）。