Brothers In Arms

Disclosure: I’ve spent an inordinate amount of time around men directly related to each other recently. To that point, in three out of four recent weekends, I was surrounded by brothers, including my own. I’ve always enjoyed feeding off the fraternal vibe, yet I went to a college without Greek life. The camaraderie, the internal knowledge, the handoffs one can only perform with a certain degree of intimacy: this is what gets me.

From back-to-back bachelor parties through, of all things, a Phish festival, the brotherly tone has been a strong presence for me recently. And then, lo and behold: rumors of an Oasis reunion began haunting my phone on a recent Saturday.

Then, that following Tuesday, it became official, via the social media accounts of both brothers as well as the band’s corporate joints: the Gallagher brothers, Noel (57 years old) and Liam (51), are finally burying the hatchet and doing a tour of the British Isles next year, on the occasion of the 25th anniversary of their globally-popular album (What’s the Story) Morning Glory?.

Assuming they get through more than a photoshoot together over the next year, this lines up to be among the last rock band reunions that can fill stadia. It will almost certainly be the most anticipated reunion of brothers since wherever you think Cain and Abel last found each other.

The cynicism surrounding these two reconciling after Noel’s second divorce is a window into parasocial relationships writ large, but it had something to do with this, either on Liam’s personal end or on Noel’s pointed statements, which seemed to borrow heavily in tone and distance from those of his fellow Mancunian and partial artistic inspiration, Morrissey. To either of those ends: that at least one British radio DJ thinks this will dwarf demand for Taylor Swift’s Eras Tour is, well, certainly a thing ITV would publish, if not an attempt at a self-fulfilling prophecy.

No matter. With the shared broadcast duties of even more brothers, John and Patrick McEnroe, working at the US Open, the Gallaghers of Oasis, seemingly one in the same once again at this point, shared their statement. I’d typically be loath to quote LADBible in this space, but really, what two people have earned that distinction more? 

Lads aren’t lads as we know them without the Gallaghers. Such a decorated source has attributed the reunion to their mother Peggy, who is 81, as well as the oldest brother Paul (58), ever the mediator and accomplice on their individual, separate tours in his capacity as a professional photographer. One can only venture to guess as to how much of Manchester City’s recent success contributed to this; did Pep Guardiola reunite Oasis???

Word is that, apart from their beleaguered rhythm guitarist Paul “Bonehead” Arthurs, Oasis as a band will not look anything like we remember them, instead bearing more resemblance to Noel’s High Flying Birds project of the last decade (an aside, but a necessary one: it’s always funny to think about an integral part of England’s most successful band of the nineties colloquially going by Bonehead, and everyone just sort of accepting that. Of course all of the band’s original members are of Irish ancestry, and, of course, they’re from the lower income suburbs of Manchester).

Sitting up, or waking up, over two weekend mornings, adjusting to Greenwich Mean Time, I fought and lost a familiar battle against Ticketmaster’s lottery system. On the one hand, I want to be filled with rage toward Chloe from Ipswitch, 21, who wants to hear “Wonderwall” live and get a video while it’s happening. On the other: isn’t that the point, to expose new people to the songs of a generationally-important, if not necessarily “great,” band?

They keep adding dates, and they’ll keep adding dates until they either kill each other, or we get sick of them. The thing with the Gallaghers is and always has been: we never get sick of them. They’re two of the most entertaining people of the last three decades in the popular sense. Their whole thing is to live whatever they think rock and roll is, and while the rest of us are trying to decide what it looks like (Is it MJ Lenderman, now? Is it St. Vincent? Yves Tumor?), the Gallaghers just keep walking with big steps in parkas. There’s something to be said for deciding what to be, and then going and being it.

What they couldn’t decide is what they’ve always been: brothers. I choose to believe that they believe in and need each other. Let’s hope they continue to find whatever is sleeping in each other’s souls.