Still Supersonic: Live Forever spirit returns at Oasis’s Heaton Park Homecoming

Noel Gallagher has been definitely maybe right about many things.

He was right about the collapse of the old music industry, right about the bland conformity that took its place, and right about the cultural shift that turned musicians into products. His opinions have long cut through the smugness of the modern pop landscape with a kind of blunt, unfiltered accuracy that few others have managed.

But when he said that the 1990s were “not the beginning of something – it was the end of something,” he was wrong.

Eighty thousand people at Manchester’s Heaton Park proved it.

That Oasis could still pull a massive crowd on their home turf was never in doubt—this is Oasis, after all. But what was striking was the palpable intensity and youthfulness of the audience, most of whom were under 30 and certainly too young to have experienced the band’s original peak. Far from being a nostalgic revival, as some media outlets have reported, the atmosphere at Heaton Park felt contemporary, youthful, and genuinely alive.

I hadn’t initially planned to be there, having spent 13 frustrating hours staring at a buffering screen the day tickets first went on sale, only to miss out completely. Yet not going simply wasn’t an option. Months later, after watching the ecstatic social media footage from the opening gig in Cardiff, I turned to Twickets (highly recommended), and finally managed to secure a single ticket for Manchester at £380. Yes, it was expensive, but considering I haven't taken a summer holiday since July 2023, I decided it made more sense to spend the money on something genuinely meaningful rather than two idle weeks on a sun lounger. Seeing Oasis play their home city for the first time in 16 years was, for me, something I couldn’t afford to miss.

The band’s entrance was characteristically straightforward with no video montages, no sentimental reflections, and certainly no calculated fanfare. Liam simply stepped up to the microphone, and the band immediately unleashed their sound, undiluted and fiercely direct. Far from sounding updated or softened to meet contemporary tastes, the music retained the sharpness, immediacy, and uncompromising attitude it always possessed. Make no mistake that this wasn’t a revival or a ceremonial return. Rather, it was a loud and bold statement of continued relevance and vitality.

Gallagher spoke sparingly, wasting no time on anecdotes or emotional speeches. And when he did speak, instructing all 80,000 fans to turn their backs, link arms, and perform the Poznań—a celebration adopted by Manchester City fans—he sparked an extraordinary moment of unity. Instinctively and instantly, the crowd responded. It felt spontaneous and genuine, devoid of the artificiality or choreography so common at contemporary concerts.

To witness this unity, and to be a part of it, was genuinely electrifying. The experience felt intensely physical, almost overwhelming. The heat, the sheer sonic power, and the visceral thrill of collective energy came together in a moment I won’t forget.

Outside the venue, fans traded shirts, bootlegs and badges with the kind of focus usually seen at football grounds, while the classic Britpop visuals — parkas, bucket hats, badges — were everywhere to be seen. It was proof, if proof is needed, that Britpop was always as much about identity and attitude as it ever was about music. Oasis have endured for so long because the Britpop culture they helped to create never truly disappeared. Liam summed it up best himself: “I’m an average lad who was born in Burnage who played conkers. Conkers, mate. Conkers. The lot. And now I’m in a band and nothing’s changed.”

Elizabeth G. is a British author and podcaster who campaigns for, and is a vocal advocate of, equality for women and sex workers. Her candid memoir, ‘Unashamed: Why Do People Pay for Sex?’ is out now.

Story by Elizabeth G ( Belters News)