Last year, it felt like the entire world was an Oasis fan, even when they weren’t. That Oasis Live 2025 ticket was like the Golden Ticket. And the hysteria surrounding the shows, record re-releases, and the Gallagher brothers themselves were bigger than their heyday in the Nineties. Although I was more of a pop fan, preferring Spice Girls to Oasis in 1997, even I found that reunion exciting. But then, I felt the same for the Harry Potter reunion, the Friends reunion, and now I’m even following the Pussycat Dolls’ return with the “PCD Forever” tour. It’s not my beloved Spice Girls, but three members of a 2000s girl band will do for now.
Reunions have certainly been rolling in nonstop, often overshadowing what is current. In 2025, more people went to see Oasis and Coldplay than Dua Lipa and Billie Eilish, and in film, most of that year’s top 10 blockbusters were franchises like Jurassic Park or Avatar. Isn’t there a Michael Jackson biopic out now? Obviously, we can’t get enough of nostalgia!
I guess, even after something we love ends, we don’t stop consuming it. My Nineties and Noughties records are still on heavy rotation today, probably as much as anything released in 2026, and the last film I regrettably watched was Scary Movie 6. I watched it because it reunited Anna Faris and Regina Hall, taking me back to the sweet year 2000. It was one of the worst films I’ve ever seen—I wish I’d spent that time on a 2026 K-drama instead.
Reunions are rarely better than the first time around. I’d say at best, they’re just as good, and, at worst… well, bad, but… you’re happy to see a familiar face. That Friends reunion special, when it finally arrived after years of fan campaigning, felt less like a grand homecoming and more like watching six millionaires recite trivia answers about a show they made two decades earlier. There was some warmth in it, and it was nice to see them, but at the same time, it felt like an underwhelming cash-in.
Reunions have been accelerating for quite some time, with a fresh crop every year, each one seemingly bigger than the last. Marketers are extending the shelf life of a trusted product. How many times has Courteney Cox come back for Scream now? I’ve lost count. Nobody needs convincing that a heritage act is worth seeing, because that convincing happened decades ago. Now all that’s left is the selling. Compare that to breaking a new artist, which requires marketing budgets and lots of algorithmic luck in a culture that doesn’t pay attention to anything for longer than 15 seconds. No wonder labels and promoters would rather bet on sure things. Oasis didn’t need a single new song to become one of 2025’s biggest tours. All those takings came almost entirely from a decades-old back catalogue.
We are willing, even eager, participants in all the nostalgia going on. I suppose we don’t care if it’s actually good or bad; we just want to relive the good times in any way we can. A reunion is our chance to finally get the version of the experience our younger selves couldn’t afford, weren’t old enough for, or didn’t realise we’d miss until it was gone. Maybe you were a child when the band split and never made it to their first farewell tour, or maybe you hadn’t even met your lifelong friends yet. Now that you have, you finally get to share the experience you’ve been talking about for years. My girl friends have been cranking up the Pussycat Dolls playlist in the car, and the other day by the barbecue. Well, mainly “Buttons”, “Don’t Cha” and “Club Song” on repeat, all so we could fine-tune the moves. I’m guessing rock fans do something similar, minus the choreography.
New music and new shows are a riskier investment of time for us, busy millennials with far more responsibilities than we had at university. Old music and old shows come with a guarantee because we already love the setlist and rate the artist, so we know we’re basically going to have a good time. Oh, and now we’re old enough to drink at the venue!
So, maybe the verdict isn’t that reunions are always a letdown, just that they’re a gamble dressed up as a sure thing. Sometimes you get something better, and sometimes you get Scary Movie 6. Either way, I don’t expect the trend to slow down. There are still names on everyone’s wish list, and these days bands seem to break up only so they can get back together later. As long as nostalgia keeps outselling novelty, someone, somewhere, will keep dialling the old number to see if anyone still picks up.
