They can't take it much higher, can they? Being on a stage in front of 125,000 people two nights running. Blasting out their brilliant noise and hearing an eighth of a million people roar back at them in appreciation. Hearing and seeing it, making it happen. It doesn't get any higher, does it?
Liam and Noel Gallagher, Paul "Bonehead" Arthurs, Paul "Guigs" McGuigan and Alan White, collectively Oasis, have had ten months to ponder over that question, to listen to the sound of Knebworth echoing around their heads and figure out just where they can go next.
In these ten months, every time they've gobbed on the floor, got engaged, looked at a house, had a haircut, flicked a V-sign, drawn the curtains, caught the plane, got married, gone down the pub - every time they've done anything that's had nothing to do with making music, they've made the front page of the daily papers.
They could so easily have become consumed by that world of professional celebrity, become just another load of pointless zombies with suntans. What they've chosen instead, what they've been doing on and off for those ten months regardless of the media, is to immerse themselves in what they're best at - making a classic record.
And if you want to know what it felt like to be on that stage at Knebworth - well, you're about to find out. 'D'You Know What I Mean?', Oasis first single in 18 months, takes you right back into the eye of their hurricane. It's a celebration of all that the band have achieved with their help of their audience. The band of the people, back playing for the people.
In 1994, when Oasis first arrived, the scene they blew apart was parochial, piddling, introverted and meaningless. Where everyone else seemed to be making withdrawn, apologetic music, dicking around on the edge of getting it on, Oasis were so direct that it took them barely a couple of months to electrify British music.
They drew together not only threads of other songs, but also a whole patchwork of existing musical ideals. They were obviously striving for what people in this country have always believed popmusic can achieve. From The Small Faces and John Lennon, via Punk Rock, through to The Stone Roses and Acid House, Britain's youth have always looked for a vision behind their heroes' tunes, a higher sense of common purpose in which to believe and find strength when the chips are down (which they usually are).
Unlike any other band for some years, Oasis were after just that. What they had to say was uncomplicated (urban life sucks, love conquers all, drink beer smoke tabs, er, what else?), but then if you look at rock's greatest ideologues they never stay the course. Oasis were just interested in that mega cultural impact which had rarely been achieved since the '60s - for its own sake, for the excitement, for the sense of mass communion, for the pure buzz of music.
By Sony Records