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Man Survives visiting London and attending Oasis Concert at Wembley
Johnny Michael feeling super happy at the Oasis Wembley Concert
While the Oasis concert was one of the greatest communal moments I’ve ever experienced… It’s tragic to learn that someone fell from a balcony and died the night I was there. My heart hurts for the family and friends of that fellow, and it sure is an awful way to remind 89,999 people that life is fragile, crazy, and we don’t live forever.
I survived Live in ‘25 — arriving back home alive with a memory that will live forever.
Oh, what a night it was! For some, anyway. On the way in, I saw two people being arrested. During the show, one idiot (or knobhead as Liam might say) had a few too many and was forcibly removed from our row. On the way out, another guy was in tears (crying his heart out), pleading piss drunk with his girlfriend… yet for the most part it felt like 90,000 people came together at the Oasis Wembley show on August 2nd and we’re having an absolute time of their friggen lives.
I wanted to write an article about my overall wonderful experience navigating from Miami to London, and being a solo traveler to go see Oasis. I was one among the many at the epicenter of a truly epic moment — and it was worth every bloody pound Ticketmaster gouged from me. For what it’s worth, this is a giant thank you to Oasis for the experience and sharing what I felt alongside the legions of fans who were there.
Time flies, and I want to head back to 2008 and explore the seeds of why I felt so compelled to take this trip. 16 or so years ago, I couldn’t find anyone to go with or justify spending a couple hundy to see them play at The Palace Of Auburn Hills in Michigan. After Oasis split ways, I felt like I missed out, and I swore if they ever tour again, I’d do whatever it takes to be there.
That was a long time ago. So long ago that the first iPhone had just come out. Makes me wonder about what kind of phone I had back then? Some sort of Nextel with the blue glowing lights? Was it a Nokia with the ever-entertaining snake game? Or a Motorola that would slide up to reveal the number pad? Was Lady Gaga even famous yet? People didn’t hold phones up at the concert in those days. Things have changed, yet so much is the same. And in many ways, I still feel like I’m scratching around in the same old hole.
Nostalgic tangent ends here.
I was also fascinated to learn that you can Google the set list from that exact concert and see what they played. The fact that they played 6 songs from their Don’t Believe The Truth album makes me think it was worth The Great Wait to see them after all.
As for the Palace of Auburn Hills, it’s demolished. Gone. It’s a wide open space, not far from a garbage dump and a freeway. Vansihed and vanquished, faded away like all the moments in the arena and the dreams we have as children.
In 2009, I made a trip to meet friends in London. I can recall drinking a lot while I was there, so I don’t remember the city or experience all too well. But I do know that I climbed to the top of the lion at Trafalgar Square for a photo opp wearing ridiculously sized and over priced Prada sunglasses, I also have proof of me puffing on Parliament cigarettes at the British Parliament building, which I tought was oh-so-hilariously clever, and I definitely (not maybe) brought along an Oasis branded Butka track jacket. The sleeves of here-said jacket came home with a few souvenirs of Guinness stains… and of course, I brought it back this time around to wear at the Wembley concert. It’s been hanging in my closet for 16 years… just waiting for this moment to shiiiiinnneee.
Photo above taken August 2, 2025 at Wembley. Photos below acting like an assclown in London circa 2009
Back then, I was hell bent on proving myself as a professional and someone who could hold a job and build a future for myself. As if somehow, full-on focus on a career could redefine who I was. I was trying to find a job that would be worth working for… something I’m quite sure doesn’t exist.
These two brotherly heathens unite. Their chemistry finally settles from the boil, and they get back out and do it again. I couldn’t miss it. It meant something to me.
This was a short pilgrimage to dig out my soul and reflect on moments where Oasis was the soundtrack of my life. Flashbacks of Supersonic amping the energy up a college tailgate. Or how the electric guitar live version of Wonderwall was routinely on repeat on the way to university. Fond memories of roadtripping in northern Michigan with an iPod playlist playing every single Oasis song ever known to me. Or cleaning the fish tank with my brother in the basement — we’d clean this giant fish tank and put Oasis music on every couple of weeks. That was a thing we did together. It made this mundane task into a great fucking time. There was a thick chapter of my life that felt like Liam and Noel sang along everywhere I went.
Like the bonds between these brothers. There have been friendships of my own shattered. Was this a sign for reconciliation? Or is that senseless astrological stupidity? Is it a reminder for all of us that we’re better when we come together? Do we need each other? Should we believe in each other? Or maybe, it’s best to stay our separate ways and don’t look back in anger… I’ve taken some lyrical advice and put my life in the hands of a rock and roll band once or twice. The truth you should believe is that your own heart always knows the way.
Oasis fans enter Wembley from the Tube station
All my people, right here, right now. In the UK, they know what Oasis means. They’re not the same band in the States. There are fans, sure, but they aren’t the loyal superfans. The Oasis fans in the UK know which songs are Liam and Noel’s favorites to sing… and you can feel that energy when Liam croons out Live Forever or when Noel reaches into the core of his soul to sing Don’t Look Back In Anger. The crowd sings every song like it’s their favorite. I hope I’m proved wrong, but I imagine the majority of the US fans are merely waiting around to hear Wonderwall and Champagne Supernova and post it on Instagram. (What’s your Instagram story, morning glory?) They are two of the best songs, don’t get me wrong, but my fellow average Americans are a tad shallow in the depth of appreciation for their music.
Radical as it was, I felt that if I was going to see them, this is the right way to do it. I wanted to see them among their people. At the top of their hometown mountain. Wembley stadium baby! I wish I could have captured how people sported their shirts all around the city, like it was the biggest football team in town. For any stranger on The Tube or around the market, it was an open window to connect and a conversation spark. The common thread of an Oasis-themed shirt or bucket hat led to little casual connections and pleasantries everywhere I went. “Are you going?” “How was it?” “I can’t wait!” “It was amazing.” “Time of my life"!” We’re all common bits you’d hear and banter back and forth.
Somewhere on the internet, there is a fan club resource that has tracked every live performance of the band since 1988. It’s full of artifacts and details like a digital museum. I question who is dedicating their time and energy to this? And Why? It’s nice and interesting to see and all, but why? …Why? Why? Why? Why?
I do suppose it’s an intriguing reminder of how the Oasis supernova of musical fame expanded and began. And for all of us, I guess it’s a way to realize that we have the power to use our artistic voice. We can create a massive big bang with cultural resonance by writing our original ideas down and putting them in some medium for connection. Sure, you need luck, and a major label and marketing engine full force behind your back to be at the magnitude of Oasis, but it's indeed possible. You have to light the spark to start.
Hey now! Here’s an idea: what if there was a museum or a theme park land-based around famous bands? How ‘bout… Isle of Oasis. Literally, an island. Rides could be based on and built around the music tracks. Songbird, you could soar on the back of a bird to the melody. Or Supersonic. Some sort of old-school British Airways jet ride.. Champagne Supernova would be some sort of cosmic space ride. Wonderwall could play as you ride up a giant wall…. Maybe Stand By Me, plays in the queues while you wait. Okay, maybe I’m not a natural at this imagineer thing. But it could be something if done right!
D’ya know, I watched it a few hundred times… the concert DVD Familiar to Millions Live from Wembley Stadium. And now I was there. When they make a concert video of the shows at Wembley for Live in ‘25, I know my voice was somewhere in the shouts of the stadium. My arms were in the air. My skinny arse was off the seat, standing and singing away in section 214.
The journey to London was filled with kind-hearted interactions and warm people. My concierge, Ash at the Marriott in Kensington, was incredibly thoughtful and helpful. Ash gave me a lay of the local land in Kensington and tips to get around. He made me feel instantly welcome, and I was grateful for his local expertise.
My London Taxi driver to the Oasis show, Matt.
Heading to Wembley, I caught a proper London Taxi. These little London mobiles are professional, fit with a bit of London pride in their design and orderly nature. My driver, Matt, made for spectacular conversation. After I told him I got in that morning to come see the Oasis show. He asked, “So, are you a big fan?!” And I said with a smirk and as humble as I could, “Yeah… I would say so.” He cracked up at the realization of his obvious question.
Shortly after, he told me a story about having Liam in his cab a few years ago and mentioned, “He did not disappoint!” He went on to share that Liam got out of his cab and told a car honking behind them to fuck off and sent the man into full shock. The perfect story I needed to hear before hopping out at Wembley. We also took a selfie and I nearly forgot to pay him, because I am so accustomed to using Uber and probably in a whirl of excitement to get to the show. Matt was gracious and also gave me some excellent tips on how to spend the next day in London. HIs suggestion: explore Borough Market and take a scenic stroll along the Thames down to the London Eye. He said I’d thank him for it. And I certainly do.
The walk into the show, I got mixed in with another group who were gently teasing me for feeling like I was following them. They couldn’t believe I traveled from the states just for the show. One guy kept introducing me to all his friends, saying, “this fucking guy came all the way from Miami!!!” On that fact alone, I earned instant respect in this group. High fives and hugs to strangers were the atmosphere right from the gates.
During the show, I had so many pinch-me, bucket-list-checking-off dream moments. Standing across the stadium, right in line with those fellas, right then and there, they were making the music I’ve listened to so many times before. Multiply that by the immense crowd, all caught up in the same swirl of euphoria, singing the songs; it was amazing!
The plane seat next to me on the way to London was empty. In the stadium, the ticket next to me I had to sell because my wife couldn’t travel across the international border. Although I don’t mind being on my own, I also never felt alone. I was united with the people here.
I forgot this guys name already, but he was great!
I eventually met the lady who bought my ticket on Ticketmaster. She was from LA and was very appreciative that I had an extra to sell. There was another couple next to me who were super fun. Naturally, we were all in this experience together. The folks in the rows behind us got engaged. We helped each other take photos, and generally all had a great time. American accent aside, I fit right in. We sang. We danced. We lived it right up.
I struggle with the fact that everyone is filming concerts. But I wanted to share the experience and send it back to my wife, my family, and my friends back home — half the world away. The seat angle I had gave such a grandiose view and you got a sense of how massive the crowd is. I couldn’t help but get snippets of the songs throughout the show. Looking back, it didn’t take me too much energy or remove me from the moment to film some clips, and every time I look back at them they make me smile. Almost in disbelief, it all happened and I was there.
During Don’t Look Back in Anger. I got a feeling in my chest, and I was so elated I thought I might pass out. Not keen on sitting down, out of respect for the band, I did lean back to breathe and let my heart rate settle. It was a realization of being in the midst of a moment I’ve dreamt about. The magnificent sounds, the roar of the crowd, the energy pierced you. Tingles, goosebumps, shivers to the human spirit — a shocking revelation to be alive and in this moment! The feeling was light and euphoric. Before the song, Noel said something along the lines of, “If you’ve never seen us and wondered what it’s like singing Don’t Look Back In Anger with 100,000 Oasis fans … now you fucking know.” Of course, the next 4:48 seconds were transcendental, in harmony we left the planet, portalling to celestial ground carried away by sound — and yes, now I fucking know, Noel.
Sucked down the psychological funnel of Ticketmaster and paying for overpriced tickets. ($1,400 for two in case you were curious). Biting the financial bullets of paying for the flight and hotel. I sucked it up and went. I don’t do drugs, but I certainly was a victim of consumerism and paying for an extravagant trip. This was quite a treat for me. This drug of having to go places and experience things is something that pummeled me into a state of financial famine for the next few months, but sometimes you just have to do it, you just gotta say yes and roll with it.
Some might say, I’m crazy. And maybe so, this was a little crazy — flying to London for a concert. But now I can say I know what it feels like. It made me so happy, soaking myself to the bone with all the wonderful feels. How was it? At times, I would say I was… Overjoyed. Truly overjoyed. I’m much more comfortable not having that amount of joy. It’s not a sustainable amount to handle every day. While headlines have made jokes about “Beer Here Now” and all the pints they sold at the concert, one pint for me was plenty. The atomically pure high came from the roaring buzz of Wembley and the Gallagher brothers together on stage.
Fluttery fuckin’ butterflies for the soul while the sound was pummeling me. I could feel the waves rocking my chest. Effortlessly, they attacked and powered through the songs. It was a persistent prize fight with the audience to hold the energy levels, and they were knocking it clear out of Wembley. The sheer endurance of Oasis was impressive. The setlist was a testament to their timelessness. And the audience gave it right back, maybe looking back at fan YouTube videos, we were individually out of tune, but when roaring in unison, it’s truly beautiful.
Throughout the concert, occasionally I’d look to the right or left and around to notice how lost in the music some people were. A kid waving his arms on his dad’s shoulders. A guy without a shirt. Me without my voice. I sang it away and left it at my seat.
At the Wembley concert, we weren’t just there watching a band perform. There were 90,000 people, fans of one band, folks touched by their music, blokes (if I may call them) who had played their songs over and over, taking life advice from their lyrics, dancing and singing by themselves in their cars and rooms… they came together. They showed up to sing the songs with the band and be part of one incredible moment after the next. Oasis is genius enough to know their songs aren’t theirs. Their songs belong to the people. That might be why the magic works so well. And somehow that energy, those sonic waves, become part of the story of our own lives; they are fuel for our energy, sedatives to soothe the frustration and agony of daily grinds. Hymns to help us all keep on. “Nursery rhymes for chavs.” is what one guy wrote on my YouTube post… Apparently, that’s an insult. But I’m not the least bit offended. Had to Google it to figure out what it meant anyway.
Oasis is a lovely combination and contrast — Noel’s soulful and sleepy spell, Liam’s primal energy and aggression. It’s this blend that gives Oasis the ability via Noel to create sounds of recognition for the suffering while swaddling you with hope and optimism. Or in Liam’s case, arming you with an attitude to tell the whole world you’re something special and they can all go piss off.
To the officer working crowd control on the way out of the stadium to the Wembley Tube Station after the show: I’d like to send major props for playing Half The World Away on your iPhone and channeling it through the megaphone speaker to soothe any tensions of the crowd. Like a sweet sedative, it turned an antsy bunch into a memorable impromptu sing-along and maintained the calm in an otherwise miserable situation. You saw firsthand what the music does. In life, this crazy, chaotic, crowded mess, where we’re all rushing to head to the same final station and not even sure why. All part of the masterplan, just trying to get home, to be safe, to be loved… along the way it’s nice to hear a song that plays to our peaceful nature.
Something is amazing and surreal about the whole thing. One wonders, how can I do something massive? How can I build something that resonates and creates a community of fans? It’s a meaningful and also a multi-million dollar question to crack. Can my art and emotion, and lived experience have a value? While walking along the Thames riverwalk, (following the advice of my cab driver) there was a guy playing violin in the tunnel, another painting a canvas, and one particular fella shoveling sand. It was a unique thing to do. But can you imagine live sand art being performed at Wembley?! Massive swails of crowds, flocking to come see a sand art dude! Sweating and carving the fine grains of what were once rock and stone into recognizable octopus shapes! Ya know, some people spend their life doing a thing that brings joy, but will never create the experience like music can. But could you imagine… crowds screaming “SHOVEL IT MATE!!!” As this man gracefully goes about building his castle of sand. It’s a silly thing to think about, but he’s got talent. Shine a light on him, Simon… why can’t a sand digger be a Rock and Roll star?
This impact doesn’t come easy, and you can’t not be inspired by the persistence, resiliency, and work ethic of Liam and Noel Gallagher. Squash their feud and drama aside… some might call it a comeback. They might have gone their separate ways, but the fact is, neither of them quit music. They kept going. They kept at their respective crafts. They worked their tallywags off under their own bands and names and cranked out new tunes. They both climbed a mountain of their own and met again somewhere on the way up. Eventually, they found their way back and did what the fans deserved. And whatever PR teams are working with them deserve a firm pat on the back. The Oasis Live In “25 was witnessing their story at another peak.
I’d love to know how much they practice. I’d love to see behind the curtain what it takes. As I wandered London, I wondered where they get inspired from. The grunge and beauty of the city. The chaos of the downtown. The charm and pleasantness of the surrounding areas. The movement of the underground… Some of the music I’ve been intrigued about the most: The Who, Elton John, Phil Collins, Rod Stewart, The Rolling Stones, The Beatles, Oasis… It’s all come from around here. Some of the greatest humorists: Charlie Chaplin, Mr. Bean. Monty Python… In film, Alfred Hitchcock’s house was next door to my hotel. Harry Potter and JK Rowling, Ozzy Oz… I could go on and I wonder what kind of person I’d be if I grew up around London. I wonder how it would shape me. Squishing around with the Londoners and the mild torture of riding on the tube every day. The quaint strolls in the parks. Being in the same neighborhoods as royal blood. And then I say, I need to be myself, I can be no one else. But I do wonder what would happen if I changed up my location.
Traveling this great distance and seeing so many strangers made me realize how damn lucky I am that I have found my wife. This person who doesn’t give up on me. This person who inspires me and chooses me. She is my wonderwall. Love is a constant choice we make. Romance is a feeling that comes and goes. And if our mind is a garden, we need to do a fair share of weeding and pruning of the thoughts so we can let blossom the things we want to focus our energy on. I thank her to the moon and back for being part of my life and for nudging me to go along on this trip. She seemed to know what it meant to me. Although she couldn’t travel, she was happy I could go and thrilled to see me do it. And she would have probably hated the Tube ride back home and being smashed like a sardine. So, I’m kinda glad I was own my own for that part of the trip.
A few side notes:
My custom Oasis “Hello” shirt; I wish I could have sold more.
I am tempted to post on LinkedIn… “Is it worth the aggravation to find yourself a job when there’s nothing worth working for?!”
Here are some rock and roll reminders courtesy of Oasis — where I turn musical lyrics into personal mantras
I am freeeee to be whatever I choose...
I need to be myself, I can be no one else
I will live a life where I say the words I want to say, not chained to the places where I don’t wish to stay
I will keep life in perspective, asking why, why, why… maintaining a humbling wonder as to why the world spins and we’re all here
I’m gonna roll with it.
The last thing I want to mention: “When was the first time I heard Oasis?” My brother had the What’s The Story album. Probably in 1996. I was 9 years old. I used to take it from his room and play it a lot. But I think the first time I heard the word Oasis was when I was a kid. And it was tied to another one of my favorite things… golf. Golf was my Oasis. Music might be Noel and Liam's… but mine is a golf course. And one particular golf course called Moravian Hills, there was an Oasis in the Oasis.
The course was near our house and we’d spend a lot of time there as kids. After the fifth hole, or if you were on the back nine, near holes 13, 14, 15 was the halfway house. It was named The Oasis. A beautiful name for a halfway house in a golf course. The word was both an intriguing and fitting mental formation. The tuna sandwiches and iced teas there were so satisfying, it felt like we were desert travelers, parched and starved after chasing birdies and shrugging off bogeys.. The Oasis was our little place to reset, rest, and recharge. Our watering hole, the little hut with triangle-shaped sliced sandwiches from heaven. You left refreshed with an extra heap of energy for the next tee.
Brush those crumbs from off your shirt, you ain’t gonna burn my heart out… the next drive over the hill and into the valley at the sixth or punching it out to the nearly reachable par 4 13th… The Oasis was always something to look forward to on the round. And the best part, you didn’t have to pay, or at least we didn’t, we signed the checks with a four-digit member number and our last name. Put it on the tab! At the end of the month, our parents would have a bit of an outrage about the bill.
But that’s nothing to look back in anger about.