Liam Gallagher stands as a figure carved into the very eyelids of British musical history. With his snarling vocals, attitude-laden presence, and a repertoire that defined the Britpop era, he symbolised a moment when rock music was a cultural lodestar. Yet, his recent live performance at Wembley Stadium on 21 September 2024, ahead of the Anthony Joshua vs. Daniel Dubois boxing match, has garnered considerable criticism

Performing a set that included classics like Rock ‘N’ Roll Star, Supersonic, and Cigarettes and Alcohol, Gallagher’s strained vocals and lacklustre stage presence have sparked widespread disappointment. Fans took to social media to air their frustration, some even vowing to sell their tickets for the upcoming Oasis reunion tour​. This backlash raises an important question: what happens when the icons of one generation fail to resonate with the next? Is this merely the natural consequence of time’s passage, or does it reflect a broader generational shift in the way we consume, experience, and understand music today?

Liam Gallagher: iconic or irrelevant?

Gallagher’s status as a cultural icon is, without doubt, cemented in the 1990s. In a post-Thatcherite Britain, Oasis offered anthems that spoke to the disillusionment and rebellious energy of working-class youth. Their sound — rooted in raw guitar riffs and unapologetic lyrics — offered an escape from the mundane. To their fans, Gallagher was more than a singer; he was a representation of defiance and charisma, an emblem of a time when rock bands held the cultural power to shape identities. For many, he remains a relic of a golden age of British music, a figure who encapsulated not just an era, but a feeling.

But Gallagher’s recent Wembley performance has raised eyebrows for all the wrong reasons. Many viewers expressed disappointment over his vocal performance, with several criticising his inability to hit notes and deliver the energy expected of him. Gallagher, ever defiant, responded on social media by calling his critics “soft c***s” and “imposters”. However, the criticism underscores a deeper phenomenon: that where artists who stood at the vanguard of yesterday’s cultural relevance now struggle to engage the attention of today’s younger audiences.

For students — many of whom belong to Gen Z — the soundscape has shifted significantly. Gallagher’s anthemic rock, with its brash confidence and stripped-down production, contrasts sharply with the hyper-produced, genre-fluid music that currently dominates. We are living through an era where the boundaries between genres blur, and artists like Billie Eilish, Rosalía, even Chappell Roan, are experimenting with sound, aesthetics, and persona. In contrast, Gallagher’s rootedness in a specific moment of rock feels static. (And God forbid anybody brings Matty Healy into the debate…) Cambridge students today may view music less as an expression of rebellion through a singular genre and more as a multifaceted form of self-expression, crossing borders between pop, electronic, hip-hop, and indie.

The decline of rock’s cultural dominance

Gallagher’s faltering at Wembley Stadium is not just a personal artistic decline — it speaks to a larger shift in how musical relevance is defined and typefied. In the 1990s, Britpop ruled the airwaves, and rock was synonymous with cultural rebellion. But the music landscape today is far more eclectic, with genres such as hyperpop, Afrobeats, and trap, exerting far more influence over younger listeners. The dominance of rock, once seen as an unshakeable pillar of British culture, has been gradually subsumed by sounds that reflect a more global, fluid, and diverse set of influences.

“Many are leaning into sounds that reflect a more complex, tumultuous world than Gallagher’s flat-packed cry to arms”

The shift away from the linearity of rock towards a more fragmented, inclusive sonic arena mirrors Gen Z’s own identity formation. The artists dominating their playlists — those who push the membranes of genres and speak to the experiences of a more globalised, interconnected world — feel more in tune with the modern student psyche than the straightforward, guitar-driven anthems of Oasis. Music has become not just an act of defiance but a form of introspection and exploration, with many students leaning into sounds that reflect a more complex, tumultuous world than Gallagher’s flat-packed cry to arms.

The evolution of the live experience

Where Gallagher’s concerts once thrived on their raw, unpolished energy, today’s music scene demands something more layered. For many, live performances have transcended their original purpose of simply showcasing musical talent. A concert is now an experience — a multi-sensory event that blends performance with visual storytelling, crowd interaction, and an overarching sense of spectacle. Artists are expected not only to perform but to immerse their audiences in something that feels like an artistic collaboration between the stage and the crowd.

In this context, Gallagher’s Wembley set — characterised by its stripped-back simplicity and marred by vocal disappointment — might appear jarring to a generation accustomed to immersive, dynamic performances. Whereas Gallagher’s era was defined by the allure of the live gig, loud, communal, and imperfect, today’s students are just as likely to encounter music through the tightly curated, algorithmically generated playlists of Spotify, or the highly produced spectacle of a festival stage. In an industry where Jack Antanoff’s glossy, omnipresent fingers often make a monopoly of the charts, it’s tempting to wonder if, for each album he touches, another angel weeps. Could it be that what once defined ‘real’ music — the rawness, the imperfection — is no longer the standard by which performances are judged?

“Could it be that what once defined ‘real’ music — the rawness, the imperfection — is no longer the standard by which performances are judged?”

Legacy acts in Supernova

Gallagher’s recent struggles serve as a more elaborate commentary on the fate of legacy acts within a trade that grows ever-more expansive by the day. Take the Cambridge student body, for instance: increasingly international and eclectic in its tastes, a melting pot of different ages and backgrounds, it isn’t entirely surprising that many are growing dismissive to the nostalgic allure of Britpop — a cultural renaissance that they never had any contact with. Local venues like Junction, which host a range of experimental and cross-genre acts, often cater to a crowd that values innovation over immortalisation. Festivals like Strawberries & Creem bring global sounds — Afrobeats, dancehall, and grime — into a traditionally ‘indie’ space, signifying the ways in which musical culture has broadened beyond the confines of the British rock legacy.

Yet, this is not to suggest that Gallagher’s decline is merely the result of a generational shift. There is a broader conversation here about the lifecycle of musical icons. Gallagher, like many before him, is navigating the difficult terrain of ageing in an industry that prizes novelty. His identity — once bound up in youthful bravado and defiance — may feel less compelling to an audience whose relationship with music is more introspective, diverse, and fluid. Gallagher’s performance, rather than signalling the inevitable decline of a musical era, perhaps reflects the reality that today’s audience values transformation over preservation.

Looking Back In Anger

Liam Gallagher’s performance at Wembley reveals a hard truth: cultural relevance is not static, and even the most iconic figures must evolve or risk alienation. What was once celebrated as raw authenticity now struggles to find its place in a music industry increasingly defined by polish and spectacle.

In other words, the gap between past and present has never been wider, and perhaps Gallagher’s faltering attempt to bridge it only underscores that the future of music belongs to those who can adapt to its rapidly shifting tides. Perhaps we just have to wait for the inevitable 360p plague of Wonderwall Instagram story clips to descend before we can say for sure.