On Saturday 9th August, I may as well have stepped into a time machine. Not literally - but it felt that way. My childhood best buddy and I climbed aboard a gloriously clunky “Happy Bus,” an old school red double-decker that looked like it had rolled straight out of a '90s postcard.

Our destination was Murrayfield Stadium. The night so many of us had given up hoping for. After 16 long years, Oasis were reunited at last, playing to 67,000 desperate, devoted fans in Edinburgh. For those of us who grew up with their music, it felt like coming home.

**Lothian City buses getting in to the spirit of Oasis too!**

We set off from outside the local Sheriff Court, and barely ten miles into the journey, someone on board begged for a toilet break. With no official facilities in sight, the driver pulled onto the hard shoulder, and almost every man onboard filed off into the bushes without an ounce of shame. It was hilariously undignified - true 90s lad energy.

When we finally arrived at Murrayfield, we were swept into one of the most euphoric crowds I’ve ever experienced in my life. Everywhere I looked: bucket hats, Oasis tees, vintage adidas - it was like stepping into a snapshot of my youth. But what struck me most wasn’t the outfits, it was the pure joy. The genuine, unfiltered joy radiating from every single face.

**Liam and Noel Gallagher arriving at the side of the stage**

Despite the Edinburgh City Council branding fans “drunk,” “fat,” and “old” in their internal safety comms, what I witnessed was the complete opposite. I saw unity, laughter, a deep love for the music and people high on nothing but memories and overpriced pints.

Liam Gallagher didn’t hold back and called out the council right on stage, labelling them “snakes” and reminding them that Oasis had generated billions for the city’s economy.

In true Gallagher form, he basically became our unofficial union rep for the night - advocating for fans, defending the crowd, and delivering the kind of customer service you don’t usually get with your ticket.

Still no apology, by the way ….

**This is not a drill. We repeat, this is not a drill!**

As the band launched into hit after hit, I felt completely transported. The lyrics came flooding back - buried deep in my memory, quietly waiting for this moment to come alive again.

I thought Don’t Look Back in Anger would be the one to set me off. But it was Some Might Say that unexpectedly broke me and very prematurely into the set, I might add. I didn’t have my wee packet of tissues ready!

Tears, full sobbing - not out of sadness, but sheer emotional release. For a moment, I was back in 1995, watching Top of the Pops before life got heavy. It was overwhelming, but in the best possible way.

**Oi, local Council - We’re Not Fat, Drunk, or Old. We are Biblical!**

It was more than a gig. It was something deeper and I’d go as far as saying it was spiritual. While that comment has been met with a few raised eyebrows and folk laughing in my face, I stand by it. That night reminded me of how music has the power to connect us, heal us, and carry us to a place of safety - even if only for a few precious, fleeting hours.

I’m so glad I had the opportunity to share the night with my childhood best bud, someone who was very much part of the soundtrack to my youth - it wouldn’t have felt right with anyone else. She got the significance of the night, and I got it too. That mutual understanding didn’t need words; we just knew. That quiet knowing felt like the most beautiful part of it all.

I can’t begin to explain the sheer rage I felt the day the tickets first went on sale. I had multiple devices set up, logged into every official ticket site, refreshing like my life depended on it. I must have been online for a solid 24 hours before finally admitting defeat.

I honestly don’t want to know how many collective hours I lost in the months that followed - constantly checking, refreshing resale pages, just in case. Always hoping, never quite giving up. Then, one quiet Saturday morning, I happened to check my phone at exactly the right time.

After all the stress, the near-obsession, the rage-refresh-repeat cycle - it was worth every second.

To anyone who knows me and had to endure my grumpiness during those intermittent weeks and months…. I can only apologise. Truly. You were very patient. Or at least, very quiet.

I’ve been riding the high from the night ever since, though it’s accompanied by a strange melancholy. Like a dream you didn’t want to wake from. One of those “you just had to be there” moments. Anyone else who caught Oasis on this tour would know exactly what I mean. It was a moment and hit differently than anything I’ve ever experienced before.

That night, I stepped into another universe. The world needed Oasis - and I really needed them too.

**Oasis Live ‘25 pop-up store in Edinburgh city centre**

Running on zero sleep, croaky voiced, and looking like I’d been dragged through a bush, I somehow made it to the Edinburgh International Book Festival the morning after the gig. I’d been up until 3am spinning Oasis vinyl’s and grinning to myself, so it’s a miracle I even made it out of bed.

I rocked up in my brand new Oasis 25 adidas football shirt with a slight Gallagher brother swagger, feeling chuffed for myself. This was not in keeping with the Book Festival vibe whatsoever. Visualise Liam Gallagher at a Jane Austen tea party! I stood out like a sore thumb in a sea of linen shirts, brogues, and polite applause.

But do you know what? I was buzzing. Still am and I couldn’t care less!

“’Cause I’m freeee… to be whatever I…”

**Oasis inspired tote bag - ideal for carrying vinyls, nostalgia, and unresolved Gallagher-related emotions!**

Check out my Oasis merch, now available in my online shop!

Designed to celebrate the band’s long-awaited reunion tour and inspired by the spirit and style of Oasis, featuring tote bags, greeting cards, and prints.

Click here to have a look!

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