I sold my soul for the second time*: Oasis at Heaton Park

Y'alright our kid? Oasis were lush the other night. We well got bevvied, the burgers were well mank, but the boys brought the party on big style.

Crikes, matron, pass the vermouth, I seem to have come over all indie kid. But yes, I went to see Oasis on Thursday, courtesy of a couple of kind-hearted souls. We were some way away, as you can see from the piccie I took (above).

I'd sold my soul to Oasis before* - I was at Maine Road in 1996, when they simply entranced. But now I am older, less wise and probably a lot more cynical.

So I survived this lager-sodden football-chanting ordeal by wearing a pair of white trainers. They helped me fit in perfectly, and I always had the option of clicking the heels three times if I needed a quick getaway.

In the end, it was an incredibly good-natured affair. After waiting in the cold without sound or lights for 15 hours, one of the Gallagher boys promised to refund everyone's tickets, and the excited buzz that rippled through the crowd never quite left.

In fact, it wasn't an ordeal at all. The crowd camaraderie was infectious, and I think Oasis top U2 in that whole stadium rock spectacle thing.

So Supersonic soared like the anthem it's always been. Masterplan had pilled-up Ben Sherman lads hugging each other like they'd just come off a football field. And the band is turning out some pretty decent new songs as well (Waiting For The Rapture, which has the same beat as The Doors' Five To One, and Falling Down, which has almost the same beat as the fab four's Tomorrow Never Knows). (Get the set list here.)

Kasabian were moody and powerful, as I expected, and thank goodness I arrived too late for the other supports. Twisted Wheel are dull, and I made my views crystal clear about Reverend And The Makers in this piece here.

So, Oasis, I salute you. You were the best rock band in the world when Definitely Maybe came out, and 15 years later, you were compelling and funny. You just need a Moog solo in every track, that's all.

*a reference to the opening line of The Importance Of Being Idle. And no, I didn't quite sell my soul: I got free tickets on both occasions. I gave my soul away gratis.

"Vincent Gray. I do remember you. Quiet, very smart, compassionate. Unusually compassionate." "You forgot cursed. YOU FAILED ME!" Bang.*

Bogling on down to the Warehouse Project last night was a bit like-- hold on, my blog-writing lamp has just blown.

Crikes, I've so many bulbs. Why on earth did I buy those coloured bulbs? Oh, there we go: a pack of small Ikea bulbs. Let me just screw this in...

That's better. I can see now.

As I was saying, snooking on down to the Warehouse Project last night was a bit like popping in on an old friend. It was keeping much better since it packed bags and left the cavernous Boddington's Brewery site, and in a snuggly way, it felt like home.

That is until about one in the morning.

You see, the line-up was strong on paper. And there's no doubt that The Whip (record cover pictured) rocked the roof off the place, and Late Of The Pier were head-noddingly spiffing. The DJs, including Simian Mobile Disco, were nothing short of phatasmagorical.

But the rot set in with a dull set from Tricky which was so mired in muddy sound and fearsome feedback, it was just unlistenable.

And then, a terrible thing happened. I can't even bear to write it.

Deep breath.

Reverend And The Makers played. The exact thing I didn't need last night was a cacophonous brew of macho posturing held together by a lead singer who wants to be Tom Cruise in Top Gun but is really just that dribbling guy in his underpants who shoots Bruce Willis at the start of Sixth Sense.

My ears bled. Hammer-headed lyrics. Blundering rhythm. Audience interaction that barely rose above swearing, shit-faced football-chanting moronicism.

Everyone who likes Reverend And The Makers is a crass, sputum-eared simpleton. Oh, I'm angry now.

I've just smashed my lamp. I'm going back to bed.

*that's the guy in Sixth Sense shooting Bruce Willis, by the way. Did you know the underpants guy was played by New Kid On The Block Donnie Wahlberg? You do now.