The year was 1994, and I was a 14-year-old girl visiting my brother at RAF Chivenor. Little did I know, a simple suggestion to listen to an Oasis CD would change my life forever. As the opening chords of “Rock ‘n’ Roll Star” filled the room, something inside me awakened. It was more than just music; it was an identity, a swagger, a way of being.
Growing up in working-class Glasgow during the bleak Thatcher years, I yearned for something to call my own. Oasis, with their unapologetic attitude and relatable background, became my anchor. I traded in my generic teenage wardrobe for Adidas tracksuits, Fred Perry polos, and Levi’s 501s – the uniform of my musical heroes. Liam and Noel Gallagher weren’t just rock stars; they were “gallus” lads I could see myself in.
Finding Hope in a Time of Despair
As Scotland reeled from de-industrialization and rampant drug abuse, Oasis’s music offered a glimmer of hope. Their songs spoke of a brighter future, of rising above one’s circumstances. I became obsessed, queueing for hours to buy their latest releases and even sleeping on the street to secure gig tickets. Oasis wasn’t just a band; they were a lifeline.
When Tony Blair rode the “Cool Britannia” wave to power in 1997, promising change and prosperity, it felt like a new dawn. Oasis urged us to vote Labour, and as first-time voters, we believed in the revolution they sang about. For a brief moment, it seemed like anything was possible.
The Turning Point
But then came Be Here Now, an album that reeked of excess and hubris. Gone was the relatable, working-class edge; in its place, a bloated caricature of success. Ten days later, Princess Diana’s tragic death plunged the nation into mourning. The hope and optimism of the early ’90s evaporated, replaced by a profound sense of loss.
It was against this backdrop that I found the courage to come out as a lesbian at 17. Armed with the swagger Oasis had instilled in me, I strutted out of the closet – only to be met with rejection and shame. Suddenly, I was alone, drowning my sorrows in dingy gay bars, searching for acceptance.
The Enduring Legacy
Decades later, Oasis’s music still resonates with me. Their songs are a time capsule of a pivotal moment in my life, a reminder of the hope and change that once seemed within reach. Though Liam and Noel’s relationship has fractured, their impact on a generation of working-class youth remains undiminished.
Those two lads made me believe, as a working-class kid, that I belonged in this country.
– The author reflects on Oasis’s lasting influence
In many ways, my story is the story of countless others who found solace and inspiration in Oasis’s music. Their songs were the soundtrack to our lives, the voice of a generation grappling with identity, class, and the promise of a better tomorrow. And though the world may have changed, the power of their music endures, a testament to the indelible mark they left on British culture and the hearts of their fans.
When Tony Blair rode the “Cool Britannia” wave to power in 1997, promising change and prosperity, it felt like a new dawn. Oasis urged us to vote Labour, and as first-time voters, we believed in the revolution they sang about. For a brief moment, it seemed like anything was possible.
The Turning Point
But then came Be Here Now, an album that reeked of excess and hubris. Gone was the relatable, working-class edge; in its place, a bloated caricature of success. Ten days later, Princess Diana’s tragic death plunged the nation into mourning. The hope and optimism of the early ’90s evaporated, replaced by a profound sense of loss.
It was against this backdrop that I found the courage to come out as a lesbian at 17. Armed with the swagger Oasis had instilled in me, I strutted out of the closet – only to be met with rejection and shame. Suddenly, I was alone, drowning my sorrows in dingy gay bars, searching for acceptance.
The Enduring Legacy
Decades later, Oasis’s music still resonates with me. Their songs are a time capsule of a pivotal moment in my life, a reminder of the hope and change that once seemed within reach. Though Liam and Noel’s relationship has fractured, their impact on a generation of working-class youth remains undiminished.
Those two lads made me believe, as a working-class kid, that I belonged in this country.
– The author reflects on Oasis’s lasting influence
In many ways, my story is the story of countless others who found solace and inspiration in Oasis’s music. Their songs were the soundtrack to our lives, the voice of a generation grappling with identity, class, and the promise of a better tomorrow. And though the world may have changed, the power of their music endures, a testament to the indelible mark they left on British culture and the hearts of their fans.
