When historians of the future look back on 2025, there is a decent chance that the months of July and August will be remembered as the Summer of Oasis, thanks to the comeback of all comebacks.

Even if you haven’t sold one of the kids to buy tickets it’s been nigh on impossible to escape the excitement of one of the biggest cultural events in recent history. Seemingly endless news reports from various venues, amplified by ever-so-slightly smug social media posts from acquaintances who had the patience and enough spare cash to bear witness the brothers Gallagher bury the hatchet.

Every image you see from every concert consists of gurning people, many of whom weren’t born when the band was in its heyday, adorned in either Oasis merchandise or the three stripes of Adidas and of course the ubiquitous bucket hat - it’s like 1995 all over again. Even though I won’t get to murder Champagne Supernova with 80,000 others, this is my kind of nostalgia because the ‘90s were my decade and all the chat about ridiculous swaggers and Brit Pop transports me immediately back to my teenage years and my enormous sideburns..

However, I have been feeling my age more acutely than normal recently because of the growing trend for noughties nostalgia, including radio programmes promising to take me back to the sound of 25 years ago. The fact that we are already a quarter of a century into this Millennium periodically blows my mind, but nostalgia for the decade before last? I’m not sure I’m ready for that.

The ubiquitous bucket hat - it’s like 1995 all over again. Photo: Oli Scarff / AFP via Getty Images)

placeholder image — The ubiquitous bucket hat - it’s like 1995 all over again. Photo: Oli Scarff / AFP via Getty Images)

The whole point of nostalgia is to take you back to happier, simpler times - the ‘80s and most of the ‘90s were very much the analogue age - but the noughties seem so modern, not to mention recent. That was the decade that I along with many of my peers got onto the property ladder, got married, started a family and became more grown up than the previous decade.

As much as I like some music from that decade, I can’t tell you where I was when I first heard a particular noughties classic, because I was too busy putting the bins out. As much as I feel uncomfortable with nostalgia that doesn’t take me straight back to the carefree days of my youth, I also appreciate that the growing trend for television and radio programmes about the beginning of the 21st Century isn’t aimed at me.

This is further proof, even if I did need it, that my teenage years are slipping further into the distance.