Why Liam Gallagher is right
It seems that Edinburgh Council has a bit of a snobbery issue—and, somewhat surprisingly, Oasis frontman Liam Gallagher isn’t happy about it. Even more surprisingly, he might actually have a point.
It seems that Edinburgh Council has a bit of a snobbery issue — and, somewhat surprisingly, Liam Gallagher isn’t happy about it. Even more surprisingly, he might actually have a point.
In documents released under a Freedom of Information (FOI) request, it was revealed that Edinburgh Council is less than thrilled to be hosting the Scottish leg of Oasis’s major comeback tour. During a meeting attended by council workers, event organisers, and emergency services, concerns were raised about the crowd expected to attend. They reportedly branded those planning to go as “rowdy,” “middle-aged men” who “take up more room” and would drink to “medium to high intoxication.”
Naturally, the former Oasis frontman—never one to hold back—took to social media to express his strong opinions on the matter. Putting it mildly, he said their attitude “stinks.” And honestly, I find it hard to disagree. There’s a glaring hypocrisy in their statements and an unfair, elitist assessment of one group of fans compared to another.
Perhaps more worryingly, the document also revealed that some councillors were concerned the 210,000 concert-goers would disrupt the Edinburgh Fringe Festival. As if Oasis fans would be looking for a punch-up with an improv troupe before heading to the gig. It’s an outdated and lazy stereotype—one rooted in the 1990s and early 2000s. Most of Oasis’s original fans are now nearing or over 50, many of whom are family people, professionals, and, more importantly, just music lovers.
The tone of the band may have been more rebellious in their heyday, but things have evolved. The fans have grown up. And even if they hadn’t, this issue goes beyond just who is attending. This is about classism—plain and simple. Edinburgh Council appears to be sending a message that one cultural event is more ‘worthy’ than another, even though both bring in huge numbers of people to the city, all of whom contribute economically.
Meanwhile, those same visitors are scrambling for outrageously priced accommodation because the council has failed to implement any real protections for tourists or locals. Instead of addressing the real issues plaguing the Fringe—such as exorbitant registration fees, unsustainable marketing costs, and housing inflation—Edinburgh Council is more concerned about a group of people who want to sing along to Wonderwall.
Furthermore, this situation lays bare the Council’s ongoing prioritisation of corporate sponsors and big, London-based art companies over the interests of the artists themselves. The Fringe Festival, once based on grassroots performers, and independent performance, has become increasingly unaffordable for performers and audiences alike. The idea that it needs "protection" from Oasis fans, but not from commercial exploitation and gentrification, is laughable.
What does this say about the Council’s attitude toward the Fringe itself? Oasis fans will primarily be in town for the concert, sure—but this could be an opportunity. Why not introduce a new audience to the Fringe? Why not make the arts more inclusive, more welcoming, instead of reinforcing the idea that it’s only for a particular social class?
God forbid the arts festival should be attended by what the Council seems to think of as “hooligans.” But let’s be honest—Edinburgh should not be a museum piece for the middle classes. It’s a working city that’s lucky enough to host world-class cultural events throughout the year. These should be accessible to all and treated with equal respect.
Some might say we’re making a mountain out of a molehill, but this is a class issue. Oasis has always been a band rooted in working-class culture. Yes, the Gallaghers were rowdy. But they also spoke for where they came from and the people who came with them. They were—and in some ways still are—representatives of those who felt marginalised in a music industry (and society) that often elevates the privileged few.
Over the years, their fan base has diversified, crossing class and age divides. Still, their core appeal to working-class fans remains strong. And yes, during their peak, they were tied to lad culture. But so were many aspects of popular culture in the 1990s. It’s reductive to blame the band or their fans for that era’s cultural trends.
We’ve moved on. Today’s concertgoers are more likely to be reliving a piece of their youth, bringing their children along, or ticking an item off their musical bucket list. Sure, there will always be a few who get too drunk or cause trouble—this happens at any major event. But to pre-emptively paint the entire fan base as problematic says far more about the Council than it does about Oasis fans.
Compare this to the fanfare surrounding Taylor Swift’s recent visit to Edinburgh. The Council was tripping over itself to praise the economic boost and even decorated trams for Swift’s arrival. The contrast couldn’t be more stark. And while her audience may skew younger, that shouldn’t translate into more respect or support. Everyone should be able to attend a concert without being made to feel like a public nuisance before they even arrive.
This kind of prejudice isn’t limited to Oasis or music—it extends into other areas, like sport, where working-class men are often portrayed as burdens. It’s an age-old narrative that continues to play out in different forms. And while I acknowledge that Oasis has a massive female following too, this situation seems particularly aimed at men. The Council has chosen to frame the “problem” as being middle-aged males.
What does this say about how we view men, particularly working-class, in 2025? Where is their place and why are they always painted as a burden before they’ve even done anything, put into a box as a problem? It’s hard to argue when we know how Edinburgh Council feels about the ‘average Oasis fan’.
They’re told they don’t belong—whether at an art festival, a gig, or even in the public spaces of their own cities. When the average Oasis fan is labelled a threat to the cultural fabric of Edinburgh, we need to ask ourselves: who is culture actually for? Edinburgh Council might want to take a look in the mirror and decide whether they truly represent the whole city—or just the privileged slice of it.
