The Stone Roses have sold out the first two Manchester shows announced at this week’s press conference, which heralded their reformation. I am not surprised – neither by the ticket sales or the band’s reconciliation.
There’s a notion that certain bands will never regroup (The Jam, The Smiths, the proper Guns and Roses) and The Stone Roses were on that list. But I don’t buy it. Unfortunately this isn’t thanks to my unwavering belief in the strength of friendships forged in creativity, it’s just a conclusion born of experience. The fact is, when the circumstances are right, a handful of people who used to sell records will gladly grit their teeth and take to a few of the world’s stages. Those circumstances are usually a string of failing solo careers, the odd sizeable tax bill and a few promoters with big cheque books. Whatever the band might claim, the burning desire to recapture that old magic almost never enters the equation.
Let’s examine The Jam. Foxton and Buckler are already on the road as From The Jam (literal band name ahoy!), so I think we can see where their ambitions lie. The stumbling block is one Mr. Weller. On the rare occasions he discusses the matter, Paul is adamant there is absolutely no possibility of his first band doing the business again. As things stand, it’s pretty easy for him to stick to his guns. He’s still new wave royalty with various Gallaghers and Ashcrofts filling his court. His albums continue to shift the odd unit and his tours attract sufficient punters. But let’s imagine tastes and affections drift (and in the heady world of the rock and the roll, this is one thing you can hang your hat on) or writer’s block sets in – or both. It wouldn’t take a great mental leap for him to pick up the phone and tell the fellas they can dump the ‘From The’ prefix. It is nothing like as unlikely as we’re led to believe.
Besides, these arrangements aren’t really ‘reforming’ in any genuine sense. The agreements and contracts are always for one tour, and possibly an album. In fact, the re-split is built into the plan. When the hits have been wheeled out a few dozen times, the nostalgia addicts sated and the cash banked, everyone knows it will be back to the status quo. Or some other twelve bar rock geriatrics in need of a session man.
And now here come indie/rave’s prodigal sons.
When rock magazines with space to fill and unimaginative editors do their ‘most influential bands’ lists, penny to a pound you’ll find The Stone Roses in there somewhere. It’s a status they clearly enjoy (who wouldn’t?) and one the wider media are delighted to buy into. BBC, ITV and C4 news programmes all trotted out the party line this week, dutifully covering the press conference and building the hype nicely. But on closer examination it’s clear The Stone Roses were little more than a highly derivative indie act that happened to be from the right city at the right time. Jangly Byrds guitars and funky drummer fills were nothing new in the early nineties when the band were peaking (The Chameleons or The Bluebells anyone?), but a bit of tweaking managed to convince the rave kids they could dig a ‘proper’ group rather than just a roster of DJs. Look at the early shots of the Roses and they’re in Doc Martens and bomber jackets. I’m not saying the adoption of flares and fishing hats was entirely cynical, but it was entirely useful.
But this just explains my scepticism regarding the band’s greatness. It’s no reason they shouldn’t regroup for some shows and for those who disagree, it’s a great opportunity to catch a favoured act they thought had gone forever. I only hope they aren’t bitterly disappointed - because, while Squire, Mani and Reni are certainly a tight combo, Ian Brown cannot and never could, carry a tune in a bucket. Indeed, when he launches into ‘I Am The Resurrection’ he isn’t so much off key as separated from it by a foot thick wall of lead.
Brown’s live vocal makes Bobby Gillespie sound like Marvin Gaye. So by all means, don your Joe Bloggs baggies and enjoy the chance to relive the intoxicating Madchester heyday, but bear in mind there’s a good reason Tony Wilson never invited The Stone Roses to join the Factory family.
There’s a notion that certain bands will never regroup (The Jam, The Smiths, the proper Guns and Roses) and The Stone Roses were on that list. But I don’t buy it. Unfortunately this isn’t thanks to my unwavering belief in the strength of friendships forged in creativity, it’s just a conclusion born of experience. The fact is, when the circumstances are right, a handful of people who used to sell records will gladly grit their teeth and take to a few of the world’s stages. Those circumstances are usually a string of failing solo careers, the odd sizeable tax bill and a few promoters with big cheque books. Whatever the band might claim, the burning desire to recapture that old magic almost never enters the equation.
Let’s examine The Jam. Foxton and Buckler are already on the road as From The Jam (literal band name ahoy!), so I think we can see where their ambitions lie. The stumbling block is one Mr. Weller. On the rare occasions he discusses the matter, Paul is adamant there is absolutely no possibility of his first band doing the business again. As things stand, it’s pretty easy for him to stick to his guns. He’s still new wave royalty with various Gallaghers and Ashcrofts filling his court. His albums continue to shift the odd unit and his tours attract sufficient punters. But let’s imagine tastes and affections drift (and in the heady world of the rock and the roll, this is one thing you can hang your hat on) or writer’s block sets in – or both. It wouldn’t take a great mental leap for him to pick up the phone and tell the fellas they can dump the ‘From The’ prefix. It is nothing like as unlikely as we’re led to believe.
Besides, these arrangements aren’t really ‘reforming’ in any genuine sense. The agreements and contracts are always for one tour, and possibly an album. In fact, the re-split is built into the plan. When the hits have been wheeled out a few dozen times, the nostalgia addicts sated and the cash banked, everyone knows it will be back to the status quo. Or some other twelve bar rock geriatrics in need of a session man.
And now here come indie/rave’s prodigal sons.
When rock magazines with space to fill and unimaginative editors do their ‘most influential bands’ lists, penny to a pound you’ll find The Stone Roses in there somewhere. It’s a status they clearly enjoy (who wouldn’t?) and one the wider media are delighted to buy into. BBC, ITV and C4 news programmes all trotted out the party line this week, dutifully covering the press conference and building the hype nicely. But on closer examination it’s clear The Stone Roses were little more than a highly derivative indie act that happened to be from the right city at the right time. Jangly Byrds guitars and funky drummer fills were nothing new in the early nineties when the band were peaking (The Chameleons or The Bluebells anyone?), but a bit of tweaking managed to convince the rave kids they could dig a ‘proper’ group rather than just a roster of DJs. Look at the early shots of the Roses and they’re in Doc Martens and bomber jackets. I’m not saying the adoption of flares and fishing hats was entirely cynical, but it was entirely useful.
But this just explains my scepticism regarding the band’s greatness. It’s no reason they shouldn’t regroup for some shows and for those who disagree, it’s a great opportunity to catch a favoured act they thought had gone forever. I only hope they aren’t bitterly disappointed - because, while Squire, Mani and Reni are certainly a tight combo, Ian Brown cannot and never could, carry a tune in a bucket. Indeed, when he launches into ‘I Am The Resurrection’ he isn’t so much off key as separated from it by a foot thick wall of lead.
Brown’s live vocal makes Bobby Gillespie sound like Marvin Gaye. So by all means, don your Joe Bloggs baggies and enjoy the chance to relive the intoxicating Madchester heyday, but bear in mind there’s a good reason Tony Wilson never invited The Stone Roses to join the Factory family.
