Oasis’ rebellious rock image is tainted by their reunion tour, and poisoned by their ticket price response

Oasis may be rooted in rebellion and their brand may remain one reason for a musical counterculture breaking through into pop, but their reunion has tarnished the memories, and the dreams. That tends to happen when a so-called working-class band begins charging upwards of £300. Noel and Liam Gallagher reuniting after so many years of publicly denying they would ever be one of the biggest reunions in history. Irrespective of your feelings towards their music, it cannot be denied. The Gallagher brothers have since sold out multiple shows at Wembley Stadium and Heaton Park and are set for a sold-out global tour. They caused a similar wave of carnage in the summer of last year as they did at the peak of their rebellious momentum. But the image has become stale, worse still when the dynamic pricing has ruined the party atmosphere before it starts.  

Any band knowing they have only a few outings left will increase their prices. That much is inevitable for those wanting to cash in on the good faith and nostalgia so many hold. But at a time when Oasis’ musical contemporaries are charging more than half the price of those £100+ tickets, the cultural read Gallagher and Gallagher have read rather poorly. A cost-of-living crisis, a troubled time ahead for venues across the country, and not a sincere drop of interest in helping out. There may be those who say Oasis does not need to, they are not a charity after all. But considering their name, their first gigs and their post-Oasis projects are all dependent on those grassroots venues, on the people who can afford the £10 ticket for nobodies set to be big, it is a slap in the face.  

Oasis is now a novelty act. We should only pay so much for that. Gig ticket prices are increasing and it is up to the artist on tour to challenge these prices, as Robert Smith and The Cure have done. Successfully, it should be noted. Dynamic pricing is a choice and, rightly or wrongly, Oasis thought it was ideal. But in implementing a system which benefits the brand, not the fan, they prove those few ties to the working class are all but severed. Just take a listen to Noel Gallagher’s recent album, Council Skies, a piece of work which hopes to hang his hat on the past, though it’s not enough to disguise his soft-Tory responses of late. If not a Tory, then a coward who believes Glastonbury, a resolute and often opinionated, politically charged place of culture, is too “woke”. Pair that with a brother whose biggest offering post-Oasis has been some odd Twitter spats with those calling out the vile ticket prices, and those solo careers feel a tad deranged.  

Deranged too are the ticket prices. Gig ticket prices of the last few years have been appalling. From Sam Fender charging £80 a pop to festivals with lacklustre lineups implementing pre-announcement payment plans which are cheaper than buying a ticket when you find out only three acts are worth seeing, and on tour an hour down the road. None of this is new. What is perplexing is £350 for one ticket. That is indefensible. Dynamic pricing or not, this is a slap in the face to most fans who, new or old, have bills to pay. Have other things they want to do. Pair that price with a hotel in the area and transport. Food for the day or two spent in Manchester, is by no means a cheap city if heading to the wrong pub, and the problem begins to grow. Not all of this is the fault of Oasis, though the tacky bars themed after the Mancunian music scene still boom because of this interest, but the lingering financial disgust is all on the Gallagher brothers and their team.  

We all value ticket prices differently. For £176, you can see Bruce Springsteen. Quite the steep ask, but three hours of The Boss at a flash new arena is fair. The same goes for Oya Festival, which costs a couple hundred pounds for a full pass but for that price, you saw Pulp, PJ Harvey, Idles, Yard Act, a slate of homegrown talents and whatever else Oslo can offer. There are dynamics to what people will and will not pay for. How lucky some may feel to splash £340 on one Oasis ticket and still have some wiggle room for life around it. We all have different thresholds of what we will and will not pay for art. £340 is staggering. It is not to say no art is worth £340, but it is to say Oasis certainly is not.  

This is a cultural reunion past its prime which has depended on a country, on a worldwide dedication, which cannot move on. Demand drives price but for Oasis not to step in, to actively let this price spiral occur and then do nothing to chastise or correct the outcome, is disturbing. It sets a precedent few have, so far, picked up. If you do not like a ticket price, simply do not buy it, that is the defence. But surely a standard must be set by those buying tickets to bands who already make enough from the pitiful streaming services? “Ticket pricing is a scam. It’s driven by greed,” Robert Smith said. He stands correct. But it all comes down to the reunion factor. This is, almost certainly, the first and only Oasis reunion. 

Other bands like Blur or Pulp have left the reunion door open. The former has called time, for now, while the latter seems to be back together for good. It is a supply and demand moment for Oasis, they have commercialised an art form, as they did all those years ago. But to pull from Smith and his interview with The Times once more: “The only reason you’d charge more for a gig is if you were worried that it was the last time you would be able to sell a T-shirt.” That very much feels to be the case with this upcoming Oasis tour, a series of sold-out concerts where the nosebleed seats are ballooning in price, and where the attendees have more sense than cash. There was always going to be an insane demand for Oasis tickets. Actively allowing it to spiral as it did, to increase so horrendously, is an active attempt to fleece the fans who got you to where you are now. For good or ill, Oasis will keep fighting on as this rebellious rock duo, but their hands are in the same pot as those in the industry who are despised for their flagrant cash-grab appearances.