At the end of August, I was sore and hoarse and exhausted and broke, and the most content I had been in ages. This is because, like so many men my age in the year 2025, I saw an Oasis reunion show. And like all men who had been there, I’m afraid I’m going to have to tell you about it.

You know this if you have a middle-aged guy in your life, but the Oasis show was life-affirming, a chance to bounce and bellow with a stadium full of fellow fans, proof in these contentious times that even profound differences can be overcome. If Liam and Noel could patch it up, anything might be possible. It brought big choruses, bucket hats, and hope. It made us feel young again.

It was also a sharp reminder that, in point of fact, we are not young again. The upper register of my voice is shot to hell. My

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