I Went To Toronto To See Oasis Like An Absolute Psycho
Keith weighs in on the the lads ~🤼~
Aug 28, 2025


When word came out that Oasis were regrouping for their behemoth tour of the world’s notable stadiums, my first response was, “Nah.” I’m a huge Oasis fan — certainly the biggest non-British Oasis fan in my personal friend group — but I just wasn’t all that compelled. I’ve seen Oasis before, after all — in 2000 at the Berkeley Community Theater, in 2001 at the Santa Barbara Bowl, at some European festival somewhere in the mid-2000s. And of course they were good. I loved them. I love them, but the prospect of having to hustle for tickets and maybe even shelling out an exorbitant sum on the secondary market and then dragging myself to Citi Field out in New Jersey on like four different trains and then doing the thing after the show where 80,000 exhausted, already-hungover people trudge en masse from stadium to train platform to other train platform to yet one other train platform…well, it just sounded like a scene I’d rather avoid.

Then, Mike Mori, our friend and North American booking agent, asked if my wife and I would want to join him in attending the Oasis show at Rogers Stadium and my answer was, “Yes, yes, please yes, oh sweet heavenly boy, YES.”

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Truth be told, though, the show was worth the risk of tick-borne illness. I’ll freely admit that if you’re not already an Oasis fan, there’s not much about their live show that’s going to sway you. But I’ll also say that if you’re not already an Oasis fan, you’re a dumbass. Yes, their songs are generally an almost genre-less brand of rock pablum with lyrics like:

And my dog's been itchin'

Itchin' in the kitchen once again

But you’re out of your mind if you think I wasn’t screaming along to that and every other line of “Some Might Say.” Everybody in the stadium was screaming all night about sinks full of fishes, and about ladies who are into Alka-Seltzer and about all the things we wish to know and places to go and how things will grow and winds will blow and darts to throw or whatever. Fine, Noel’s not going to get a book of his poetry published any time soon, but, for my money, there just isn’t another band with as many songs that can get a full stadium of knuckleheads barking like idiots for two and a half hours straight. They’ve got stone-cold anthems to burn. Hell, they played like six b-sides, and everyone knew the words. It’s lunacy. Noel just writes bangers made for standing in a field with tens of thousands of people and hollering like the dickens.

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