Oasis are lost. Confused. Blundering around in the foggy zone that swallowed up the Stones after Exile. And like a pair of latter day Ronnie Woods, Gem and Andy have made Oasis a better looking live act but contributed little new to the sound. Mind you, even if the three-strikes-and-you’re-out rule has effectively cancelled the band’s credit as an albums act, Noel can still inspire flashbulb frenzy at a pre-gig photo-op.

Oasis in Ireland right now is a similar social experience to Thin Lizzy after Lansdowne. You know they’re past their prime, but still in good enough shape to get in the ring. But – and it’s a big but – their live stock will surely plummet after tonight’s set, although I think the blame might lie more with the behind-the-scenes players rather than the ones on stage.

Entering the field as the ‘Fucking In The Bushes’ intro gave way to the Slade rewrite of ‘Hello’, this listener thought the PA was playing tricks and scooted down to the front of the sound tower. It was even worse there, the lamest sound mix I’d ever heard from a major band: buckety drums, dry vocals, tinny rhythm guitar, and Noel’s solos almost inaudible. Presumably the fault lay with Oasis’ techies rather than Witnness crew, but for an unforgivable dozen songs – the bulk of the set – Oasis battled to establish some sort of rapport with an underwhelmed crowd bewildered by the tepidity of ‘Hindu Times’ and ‘Go Let It Out’. I don’t think it was just me – people watched the show with that deadened disconnected pallor you associate with late night TV (cheap and nasty ads on the screen for a forthcoming Derry gig did nothing to dispel that impression, making the band come off as touts desperately hawking their devalued wares between songs).

Pity, ’cos it was a strong set list too, but hearing ‘(What’s The Story) Morning Glory’, ‘Cigarettes And Alcohol’ and ‘Live Forever’ rendered so limp and gutless was no fun at all. As ‘She’s Electric’ conjured grim visions of Chas ’N’ Dave playing on the back of a truck, the Oasis of Knebworth and ‘Champagne Supernova’ looked in danger of becoming but a dim memory.

If Sonic Youth’s astonishing set in the Rising tent the night before proved anything, it’s that it’s all about sound. You can cop all the attitude you want, but if you don’t have your front of house in order, you look like a mug. For Oasis, it came together for the last couple of songs in the set proper: the epical ‘Born On A Different Cloud’ with its crackling Live Rust solo, and that reliable old warhorse ‘Acquiesce’. But by encore time (‘Don’t Look Back In Anger’, ‘Some Might Say’, ‘My Generation’), people were leaving in droves. I followed suit, disgusted that the former champions should lose a crucial comeback bout on a technical knockout.

Ever get the feeling you’ve been cheated?