Oasis @ SECC, 4 Nov

“This one goes out to Lorraine Kelly, y’know, that fat arse.”

The years clearly haven’t diminished Liam’s charm a bit. In fact, recent press suggests that time has almost perfectly preserved the Gallaghers’ antagonistic shtick. Rock ‘n’ Roll Star and I Am The Walrus still bookend an Oasis set as they did when Alan McGee first clocked their swagger in 1993 and - sure as monobrows - Liam still sneers at the microphone, pulling his mouth away before he’s finished a vowel, both nonchalant and engaging all at once.

Musically, Oasis prove that they’re still masters of pastiche; now owing as much to the bluesy timbre of The Doors (the Noel fronted Waiting For The Rapture is uncannily similar to Waiting For the Sun’s Five to One) as they do the latter day psychedelics of The Beatles.

But tonight – regardless of this one trick syndrome that dogs them so many years into their career – their bombastic pub rock stirs a respectable, unfathomable die hard tribalism that few bands will ever sustain.