In the front of Cardiff’s Spillers Records – the oldest record shop in the world – there is a three-by-three vinyl display of records by artists “playing locally soon!”, announced by an orange paper slip inside the plastic sleeve. Despite the mass hoopla outside in the Welsh capital – where the main drag, St Mary’s Street, is a racket of bars blasting Britpop anthems and spontaneous singalongs of Champagne Supernova are breaking out – it is still somehow astonishing to see a copy of Oasis’s 1998 compilation The Masterplan in the top left corner of the shelf.
The band’s reunion may finally be starting on Friday at the city’s Principality Stadium, but after 16 years apart, it still feels so unlikely.
Spillers’ owner, Ashli Todd, has worked at the shop for almost 30 years (and on her first day sold Robbie Williams a copy of Super Furry Animals’ debut album, Fuzzy Logic). “They [Oasis] have never gone anywhere, as far as we’re concerned, in terms of sales,” she says. “Through various phases of their career, they’ve never dwindled. I can’t think of a time where we haven’t had them in the racks. And from an industry perspective, their team do a fantastic job of keeping their records in print.”
Todd says it is “exceptionally exciting to have their tour kicking off here”, adding: “It’s bringing a lot of fans to the city, which is wonderful. I just had a father in his 50s in, who saw them in their heyday, telling me he’s taking along his teenage child, which is beautiful.”
On Friday afternoon in the city centre, there are dozens of stories like these. Families are almost as prevalent as the anticipated groups of lads. In the St David’s Dewi Sant shopping centre, a queue has formed for photographs in front of a specially installed 230-sq-ft (23-sq-metre) mural of Noel and Liam Gallagher made entirely of black and white bucket hats.
Lottie, 11, wearing a Definitely Maybe T-shirt and “Cardiff Live 25” bucket hat, is a big fan. “My dad introduced me to them,” she says “We bond over their songs.”
Her aunt Rebecca chimes in. “I first saw them here 31 years ago, at the Cardiff Astoria, while I was pregnant with him,” she says, pointing at her adult son.
Her partner recalls the ticket price, £7.50, a figure that may smart a little for reunion tour ticketholders stung by Ticketmaster’s controversial dynamic pricing policy. (Daniel and Laura, drinking outside the Traders Tavern, defend the cost of tickets. “A lot of people are making a big thing about it but hotels tonight are also £800, £900,” says Daniel. “I don’t think it’s just a Gallagher thing – it’s this day and age, unfortunately.”)
At an official pre-party at the Blue Bell pub thrown by Pretty Green, the fashion label that Liam Gallagher founded in 2009 (but no longer runs), William is wearing an Oasis Adidas T-shirt. He says has come down from the north-east of England with his dad, Steven, to celebrate his 10th birthday on Friday. For his birthday present, he is hoping they play Acquiesce, the B-side to Some Might Say. “I like the hype of it,” William says. “They both sing on it.”
Steven first saw Oasis in 2000. “I was 17 or 18,” he says. “My dad took me, so it’s come full circle.”
There is a festival atmosphere in the city, the bars overflowing with fans and blaring with Oasis anthems, creating a sonic effect down the high street that sounds like being stuck in an exhaust pipe.
Outside the Principality, Donna, a Big Issue vendor, is holding up the magazine’s dual-cover edition, Liam on one, Noel on the other, and asking buyers who they prefer. It is a trick question: the answer is in fact Donna, AKA the Queen of Cardiff, who is this month’s “My Pitch” profile on the magazine’s back page.
Phil is selling copies of the Socialist Worker newspaper, which is leading on a defence of Kneecap and Bob Vylan. He isn’t getting much interest from Oasis fans. “I don’t think there’s anything rock’n’roll about them,” he says. “Beatles rip-off band from the 90s.” The Gallaghers’ dalliances with New Labour were “runaway great branding” for both sides, Phil says.
Where, say, Bruce Springsteen concerts are a parade of fans proudly wearing vintage merchandise from gigs they saw in the 70s or 80s, most Oasis fans in Cardiff on Friday are kitted out in box-fresh items from the two official stalls the band have set up in the city, showcasing their own products and a bespoke tour collaboration with Adidas.
The vintage shops Hobos and Beyond Retro report a run on old-school Adidas track jackets (though shop staff at both independently say demand is nothing like for Lana Del Rey’s gig here last month, when white blouses and boho skirts sold out). There are warring street stalls selling knockoff bucket hats bearing the band’s song titles. “You look like a supermodel,” one vendor tells a woman umming and ahhing over a blue hat, then sings “would I lie to you?” at her.
Molly, 16, is getting a glittery transfer of Oasis on her cheek from another high street stall. After discovering Don’t Look Back in Anger, “that was it from there”, she says, citing Bonehead’s Bank Holiday as an unlikely favourite song. “I love Liam. He’s so funny. No filter.”
Inside St David’s Dewi Sant, Asad, 24, is one of the staff at the official shopping centre popup, but he’s been drafted out of the shop by security to help manage a queue that snakes around an entire concourse. “It’s been very hectic but surprisingly well behaved,” he says. The shop has been playing non-stop Oasis. “Some songs I didn’t know they were by them,” he says. “I’ve been interacting with people coming from Italy, Miami, Canada – they touch this many people, it’s crazy.” Sadly, he does not have a ticket. “I wish I did.”
In the queue, Trevor, 43, and Michelle, 52, are wearing homemade Oasis T-shirts but waiting to buy some official Adidas jackets. Trevor has an immaculate version of Liam Gallagher’s most famous haircut: long sideburns, a bit spiked on the top. “I’m contractually obliged to have this haircut,” he says. “I’m Liam in a tribute band.”
It turns out that Hemel Hempstead’s own Oh-aces have their own turbulent history. “The first lineup failed,” says Michelle. “Me and Noel fell out,” says Trevor. “It’s been this lineup since January.”
It is when he puts on his stage gear and glasses and has a couple of beers that he starts to feel like Liam. Tonight, he says, “I’ll definitely be looking for some tips, but not judging.”
Outside the stadium there is another merchandise booth, where Marina, 36, and Shun, 29, are waiting holding a Japanese flag. They have flown 16 hours from Tokyo to see Oasis for the first time. It is personal for them, too. Marina translates for Shun: “He has a brother and it was not a good relationship, similar to Oasis. But they are in a band: Shun plays drums and his brother plays guitar, and they have a good relationship now. The music helps.”
At least a few fans seem to have travelled from even further away. Back in Spillers, a group of three friends are wearing T-shirts that say: “We live in desert looking for Oasis – 2025.7.5 – From Shanghai to Cardiff – 8,100km”. The trio travelled to the UK last month for their first Glastonbury and to finally see Oasis live after 20 years of being fans.
Teresa, 37, has loved the band since she was 13. “When I feel sad, their songs make it better,” she says. “The songs mean a lot – their spirit gives me the hope to meet difficult things and it can become the energy for me. I think the concert will become very important for me in my future life.”