THE BAND that like to think they invented 24-hour drinking opened their Christmas tour with an almighty celebration on Saturday.

Although ten years have passed since Oasis released their best-loved album, (What’s the Story) Morning Glory?, it could easily have been released yesterday judging by their Cardiff reception. Cynics might argue that this is because the Mancunian rockers have remained stuck in a musical Groundhog Day ever since, but their enduring popularity is unarguably impressive.

Saturday’s bash barely deviated from the long-established Oasis formula. Liam Gallagher in buttoned-up tunic, leaning into his microphone at a 30-degree angle? Check. Noel gurning impassively from his perch, stage left? Check. Mildly fractious brotherly banter? Check. Huge, ear-clobbering guitar anthems, most of which only sound good when drunk? Check.

Liam was on unusually muted form, with his scalpel-sharp sneer reduced to a hoarse bellow. To predictably loud cheers, he dedicated Cigarettes and Alcohol to George Best, but otherwise kept his comments to a minimum.

Generally a workmanlike vocalist, Noel came into his own on the chirpy music-hall ditty The Importance of Being Idle and a mighty encore version of Don’t Look Back in Anger, which had half of Cardiff roaring along in unison.

As ever with Oasis, the broad brush strokes were strong, but the finer details weak. Indulging his regular hobby of knocking rival bands in the NME last week, Noel declared: “Music’s not supposed to be interesting.” He insists that rock should be visceral, not cerebral, when the best pop artists have always been both.

Compare this reactionary stance with Noel’s heroes, The Beatles, who evolved and experimented at an astonishing rate. Even his old Blur rival, Damon Albarn, has reinvented himself umpteen times since 1995’s great battle of Britpop, while still challenging Oasis to chart duels with Gorillaz.

There were moments in Cardiff when Oasis, despite themselves, threatened to turn into the kind of art-rock band they affect to despise. Mucky Fingers, sung by Noel, throbbed and shimmered like a minimalist avant-rock piece before coalescing into a fairly straight pop melody. Later, the climactic Rock’n’Roll Star unravelled into a fireworks display of freeform noise and distortion — teasing glimpses of how Oasis might sound if they risked stepping outside their musical comfort zone more often.

Ten years ago, the Gallaghers seemed like invincible underdogs, gatecrashing the Britpop party and mocking its meagre ambitions. Having stormed the palace, they have now bedded in comfortably, pulling up the drawbridge and pouring boiling oil onto pop rivals who challenge their entrenched position.

Like a rock equivalent of new Labour’s landslide victory, they have squandered the limitless potential of their huge majority by settling for business as usual.

Such was Oasis in Cardiff: business as usual. Only an uncharitable Scrooge could fail to be impressed by their staying power but, as ever, the overpowering sense of déjà vu was disappointing.