In a move nobody asked for and everyone will pretend to love, Noel Gallagher announced that Oasis is back together. The announcement landed like a drum fill you weren’t ready for, followed by a chorus that sounded suspiciously like a mid-90s weather report.

Liam arrived with a mic in one hand and a mischievous glint in his eye, promising to entertain the crowd even as he swore at the sound balance. The crowd’s nostalgia meter jumped ten percent and then immediately fell asleep on the merch table.

Industry insiders described the reunion as a high-stakes nostalgia bet, with the risk profile resembling a championship hangover. The press conference featured more stage banter than new songs, which is precisely how fans like it.

Ticket prices soared, not because the band wrote a single new riff, but because people are allergic to missing a minute of a moment they’ll pretend to have witnessed live. Promoters said the glow from the stage would power the city for a week.

Noel insisted the chemistry is intact, which is rock-star code for ‘we can still share a dressing room without murdering each other.’ He added that the gig will ‘sound like the old days, but with better dental plans’.

Liam teased new stage banter that could only exist in a universe where guitars pay the rent. Fans clutched their old band T-shirts and whispered that this was ‘the one that would finally answer the question: do they still remember the words?’.

Merch stands offered retro jackets and enough scarves to clothe a small village. The audience treated the band’s return like a ceremonial product launch, complete with glitter and the faint scent of damp wool.

Meanwhile, Noel conducted rehearsals with the seriousness of a librarian cataloging rare vinyl, occasionally consulting his phone for tempo tips. In a move that felt suspiciously modern, he browsed for gear on the sly and reportedly searched for ‘pedalboard case with TSA lock’.

Liam, meanwhile, tried to balance charisma with the art of not stepping on the drum riser. The security team practiced keeping a straight face while the audience pretended to be surprised by how much they remembered.

Promoters floated the idea of a stadium tour, which would guarantee eardrum rearrangements on an unprecedented scale. The schedule teased two encores and one existential crisis per gig.

Critics wondered if the recharged chemistry could survive the heat of the spotlight and the weight of a ‘nostalgia tax’ from streaming services. Some argued the nostalgia economy might be the only thing that still grows on a scale bigger than the guitars.

Meanwhile, fashion analysts noted that Noel’s sunglasses now qualify as a modern art installation, while Liam’s hair apparently filed for a spinoff. The pair offered a masterclass in how to age like a vinyl pressing: imperfect, noisy, and somehow collectible.

Fans prepared their playlists and their apologies for every bad decision they made in the ’90s. They practiced their best ‘we never took ourselves seriously’ face, which is the only facial expression that makes a chorus line sound grand.

Local coffee shops boasted Oasis-themed specials, offering ‘Wonderwall’ latte art and ‘Champagne Supernova’ muffins. The town buzzed with the aroma of nostalgia and espresso.

Producers refused to leak the setlist, treating it like a tax return—secretive, occasionally exciting, and likely to be audited by fans later. Prudent sound engineers prepared emergency earplugs in case the riffs hit peak seasonal allergy mode.

Two days before the first show, Noel admitted the reunion might be more about camaraderie than creativity, which is the perfect moment to finally order ‘noise-cancelling in-ear monitors’ for personal peace on stage. Liam shrugged and said the mic is basically a microphone, not a blood oath.

Technicians yawned in unison when asked about the stage design. Even the lighting rig seemed to hope for a better show and maybe a catnap between songs.

Culture commentators declared the moment as proof that memory is more marketable than novelty. The public seemed to agree, streaming the interviews in the same window as a coffee break and a late-night meme drop.

Even younger audiences, who only know Oasis through memes, found themselves re-educated about why stadiums still smell like damp wool. They discovered that some riffs never go out of fashion—only out of tune at first rehearsal.

Security protocols now include ‘random sing-along’ drills to keep the crowd invested. The drills reportedly work best when the audience feels like they’re participating in a living history lesson with a chorus that won’t stop at ‘Wonderwall’.

At the end of the day, the reunion is less about chasing new fans and more about chasing the exact memory of a first kiss at a gig. If nothing else, it proves nostalgia remains a perfectly profitable hobby for people who used to smoke in the stadium stalls.

Whether the show becomes legendary or merely loud, Noel and Liam have already achieved the rare feat of making nostalgia feel like a live product launch. In the meantime, the merch team practices their scale on t-shirt sleeves.