Don't Look Back in Anger

There's a brand-new retro music trend out there right now. Does it mean we've merely hit peak nostalgia, or does it suggest a world in the throes of full clinical depression?

- By Dave Holmes

AS I WRITE THIS, I AM SORE AND HOARSE AND exhausted and broke, and the most content I have been in ages. This is because, like so many men my age in the year 2025, I have just seen an Oasis reunion show. And like all men who have been there, I'm afraid I'm going to have to tell you about it.

You know this if you have a middle-aged guy in your life, but the Oasis show was life-affirming, a chance to bounce and bellow with a stadium full of fellow fans, proof in these contentious times that even profound differences can be overcome. If Liam and Noel could patch it up, anything might be possible. It brought big choruses, bucket hats, and hope. It made us feel young again.

It was also a sharp reminder that, in point of fact, we are not young again. The upper register of my voice is shot to hell. My glutes ache from climbing the 4,000 steps to our nosebleed Rose Bowl seats, and I think I pulled my right deltoid throwing my arm around a stranger. If I concentrate, I can still smell the Modelo the guy behind me spilled in my hair, just as I am certain the fans in front of us are still finding our churro crumbs on their Oasis Adidas track jackets. This one left a mark. You and I still think we're gonna live forever, but our bodies have some bad news.

I DID NEED TO EASE MYSELF DOWN INTO MY office chair just now, and I have no regrets. I wanted to relive those mid-1990s days when