oh good, more capitalism
outfit yourself for the Summer of Healing
When the guns fell silent and the stars aligned just under a year ago on my 30-18th birthday, I told myself that if there were any humanly possible way for me to see an unbelievably reunited Oasis on the West Coast of the United States, I would find a way to go.
When the UK tour sold out in twelve seconds (despite not a single bit of ocular proof the Gallaghers had, indeed, made peace and were, indeed, making music again), my wish was granted, a handful of US dates were added, and I “won” the Ticketmaster “lottery” by which I mean I was granted the privilege and honor of paying about $250 Human Earth Dollars PER PERSON BEFORE FEES for two seats in the lower stands of the Rose Bowl on for the Sunday night show.
When the opening day of the reunion tour actually came — July 4, I guess of some significance in the U.S.? I’m a nonpracticing American so I don’t know — I sent my daughter to her dad’s (technically he REQUESTED TO TAKE HER for a few hours for FUN because they LOVE EACH OTHER?) and told everyone else not to talk to me as I located a wobbly TikTok live from some apoplectic dad named Steve or Dave or Stan or something else British, balancing his iPhone in one hand and his pint in the other as first Britpop deep cut Cast took the stage (they’re not playing “Alright,” alas), and then my favorite artist of all time, Richard Ashcroft (frontman and sole songwriter of defunct band The Verve) — I wept — and then, after about fifteen impossibly long minutes of silence, it actually happened.
Despite the brothers doing literally zero publicity — indeed, not even appearing in the same place at the same time in public at any point other than, allegedly, the original promo photos for the tour — these two curmudgeonly fiftysomethings who have spent the better part of the last three decades lobbing insults at each other even as they cashed their check(que)s, swaggering onto the stage hand in hand and then TEARING 90 MINUTES’ WORTH OF THEIR GREATEST HITS TO ACTUAL SHREDS as multiple generations of fans scream every lyric and weep and lob pints and proclaim a literal stadium show where most seats are 400 feet away from the stage to be the actual best gig they have ever attended…well, if this is possible, all healing is possible.
I will write about it in more detail after the show, but basically the sight of the Gallaghers in absolutely top form, despite their ages and histories and everything this wretched world has been through — sometimes even embracing on stage — has helped to heal my shattered heart more than anything else in the world combined. My shattered heart is approximately .05% healed and it is entirely Oasis-related!
Anyway, on to capitalism. In a 2017 interview (during his respectable but distinctly Oasis-bereft solo career), Liam Gallagher revealed that several of his children (he has four THAT WE KNOW OF ha ha ha) were fans of an artist he referred to as “WhatsApp Ricky.” Eventually it transpired that he meant A$AP Rocky (whose music I, like Liam Gallagher, have never heard, because I am a middle-aged loser), but when corrected he proclaimed that WhatsApp Ricky was “a better fucking name anyway.”
Oasis fans emulating Swifties during the Eras Tour started as a joke, but it’s become real: friendship bracelet exchanges (I plan to make about 50) and seas of band merch OF THE BAND YOU ARE GOING TO SEE have flooded social media feeds. (My fellow GenXers, could you IMAGINE that many people wearing the merch OF the band going to SEE the band in 1994?) It’s a new (pun intended) era in fandom regalia, and I, for one, am here for it.
So largely for my own use, I awakened my nascent powers of graphic design (everyone involved in “publishing” had to learn it in the 1990s so now I still have an “eye” for visual composition and no formal training, which I largely put to use in my amazing classroom presentations that nobody pays attention to), and created a few garments festooned with “WhatsApp Ricky” in the HISTORICALLY ACCURATE OASIS ORIGINAL LOGO FONT that I carefully researched, which is none other than Helvetica Black Oblique. It took a few tries and a free trial of Photoshop that I will have to remember to cancel next week, but I created my deeply unsanctioned (but also un-copyrighted) design and plunked it upon three different dropship options, now available not just for my wearing pleasure, but for yours.
So, if you enjoy donating to the Things That Go Directly Into the Lost And Found at My Daughter’s School Fund, or if you like Oasis, or if you are going to see Oasis, or if you, too, feel like the Oasis Live ‘25 reunion tour is accidentally healing the world, I now have a merch store for you.
Later: Disneyland; a Weird Mall Trip to Portland; My Accursed Automobile.
Speaking of shameless capitalist ploys, thanks to Jon, Jessicca, Rachel, Mike and Ce (and all earlier contributors) for buying me way too many coffees. I am going to try to keep pumping this writing out the best I can.