This year, assuming I can get a ticket, I will be seeing Oasis on their reunion tour. I will be surrounded, I expect, by thousands of fellow middle-aged men lustily singing “You and I are gonna live forever” – while knowing some of us won’t even make it through the decade.
Lately I have noticed that much of the music I listen to and the gigs I attend now have their roots in the past. I first saw Oasis when I was 23, and my greatest hope for this summer’s concert is that it might briefly transport me back to the 1990s. I saw Pulp in 2023 and it was incredible – but mostly because it brought back memories of seeing the band decades ago. The same goes for Bruce Springsteen and Bob Dylan, who I saw last year. For my generation, gigs seem to function as temporary time machines that give you a chance to revisit the glory days.
