Everything's Coming Up Roses

Backstage at Warrington Parr Hall there’s a sense of relief and triumph. The Stone Roses have just come off-stage after a secret show, arranged to get the band into gear for their comeback world tour.

Announced on the chaps’ website at four o’clock in the afternoon, fans were told to bring a Stone Roses album cover to gain admission. Dusty old record collections were raided, and copies of the band’s much-played and mightily-loved debut rushed down to the 800 capacity Victorian venue in the middle of the working-class Cheshire town where Ian Brown was born. The Stone Roses never did do things in a conventional way and choosing to play the gig in their heartland, cheered on by fans who made them legends,. is a perfect move. By kick-off, the place is packed to the rafters.
The UK national media have, naturally, hot-tailed it to the show and whilst the BBC is locked outside, the people of Warrington and some faster than lightening superfans and faces from the old days have wangled their way in. The buzz in the §room is electric, the crowd dancing to tour DJ Phil Beckett’s excellent choice of tunes, which range from punk and classic soul to acid house and even West Coast rock – all key constituents in the Stone Roses mix. And then the moment we’ve all been waiting for arrives.
When the iconic bassline of ‘I Wanna Be Adored’ rumbles across the venue, the gaff goes crazy, a watching Liam Gallagher on his feet momentarily forgetting his own success in Oasis and turning back into the awestruck 15-year-old who saw the Stone Roses play at Manchester International 2 in 1988 (the moment when, like so many of his generation in the UK, he realised what this stuff was all about and copped the Ian Brown swagger and attitude to become an icon in his own right).
The gig is fantastic – strip away the atmosphere and the history and it’s still a great rock ‘n’ roll band playing those quicksilver melodies that mixed melancholia and euphoria and created the debut album that’s become a British music classic just like the best records by The Beatles, the Stones, the Pistols, The Jam and The Clash – building blocks of Britain’s music culture and part of the national psyche.
When the band play ‘Love Spreads’ deep into the set, though, it’s a perfect reminder of just how good the widely underrated follow-up album, Second Coming was. The gritty slide blues guitar and mysterious lyrics combine to create something really special – the song sounding even better now than it did originally, all those years ago.
The audience not only sing every vocal but also every bassline, guitar lick and drum pattern from percussive genius Reni. The drummer was the first of the band to leave last time and, apart from a brief stint fronting his own group The Rub more than a decade ago, hasn’t been spotted onstage for years. As you watch him, you remember afresh what a great musician he is – those loose rhythms are almost melodic as he takes over each song, effortlessly revealing his remarkable prowess.
In the cramped dressing-room afterwards, the band and friends celebrate. A grinning Liam Gallager says it’s the best Roses show he’s ever seen. Ian Brown is as polite as always while Mani is typically garrulous. Reni has gone home and John Squire leans against the wall with the quiet cool of a guitar hero. The band are on top of the world. Their first gig together since the ’90s has gone very well. The future is looking bright.

The Stone Roses actually reformed a year ago. John and Ian had met at Mani’s mother’s funeral and on that sad day a broken relationship had been rekindled. They’d no intention of reuniting the Roses, but when they met-up a few weeks later, the songs started to flow and they decided to get in touch with the rest of the line-up to see what they thought.
Soon afterwards, Mani ended his 15-year Primal Scream tenure with their blessing, and Reni finally picked up his drumsticks again. Somehow the collective managed to rehearse over the whole of the summer of 2011 in Manchester without anyone knowing: when they announced their comeback at that famous press conference in October 2011 virtually everyone in rock’n’roll was stunned. Remarkably, in the age of social networking, one band at least proved that it is possible to retain an air of mystique.
I received an email about the press call from a PR acquaintance, who insisted that I had to be there – although he couldn’t mention who or what it was for. A couple of days beforehand, however, a rumour started on the internet that the Roses were about to announce something big. I got unofficial confirmation from Ian Brown, who was bursting to let everybody in on their secret. So I ran the story on my louderthanwar.com site. The huge surge in traffic crashed the server – and the Roses were back in business, blinking into the spotlight they’d left so abruptly in the mid-90s.
Originally formed in 1983, The Stone Roses exploded into the national consciousness with their eponymous debut album in 1989. Their trancey, blissful, psychedelic guitar anthems caught the mood of the times. As the Smiths Generation started to get into this ecstasy thing and drugs became part of the UK street and suburban landscape, The Stone Roses soundtracked the shift perfectly. Their material oozed sublime melodies and those long instrumental passages were perfect for the indie kid who didn’t want to go fully into acid house or the dance head that wanted something to listen to on the way back from raving. Arriving fully formed. they also established their own audience of music freaks and mavericks.
The Roses’ astute grasp of pop culture and instinctive connection to the moment defined them as the right group in the right place at the right time. The fact that they could also write classic songs and had a walking, talking iconic frontman with razor sharp cheekbones positioned them at the apex of British pop culture.
Manchester at the time was the centre of a youthquake, and The Stone Roses were the high priests of the moment, when pop culture turned on its axis and – it happens but rarely – the best band in the UK was also the biggest band in the UK.
Exuding an almost Sex Pistols-ish sense of outrage (their teenage years as punk rock kids or scooter club renegades were never too far from the surface), The Stone Roses also came with attitude. While this was an essential part of their rock’n’roll appeal, it also gave them a built-in appetite for implosion. And so it proved.
The years following their breakthrough saw them mired in a series of court cases with labels and managers, which dragged on – and almost dragged them down fatally. There was also the small matter of trying to record a new LP capable of living alongside the reputation of the first. Second Coming when it eventually emerged was caned by sections of the media still resentfull of these northern upstarts gatecrashing their polite indie party. It was an abject lesson in just how badly the media can get it wrong.
That feeling persists to this day of The Stome Roses as fractious outsiders, with lengthy articles in the quality press sniffing at the band and questioning their motives for returning, whilst bigging up media pet groups like The Pixies and Pulp – as if their motives were somehow better or purer. Undaunted, the Roses have been shifting hundreds of thousand of tickets, with their Heaton Park show establishing teh record as the fastest-selling UK outdoor gig ever. Industry sources suggest they’re on £3 million a man for the homecoming shows, with the band likely to be in the same super-rich bracket as your Muses and Coldplays by the time they get to sit down for their Christmas dinners. Now wouldn’t that be nice...

The excitement caused by the band’s return is tangible throughout rock’n’roll. In the UK, with a rubbish Tory government in power and a biting recession in full anti-flow, the dream is everything – and the myth of the Roses and their perceived defiance matches the mood of the times.
The press conference captured all of this – and more besides. An hour before kick-off, I bumped into a buoyant Ian Brown coming down the street Pied Piper-like, with a tail of eager fans behind him. We greeted each other like croaking hombres from the rock ‘n roll wars. He was on his toes, thrilled at the prospect of getting the band back on the road and showing people what they could do. He told me about the new songs, which he described as ‘psychedelic pop’. He also said how great it was to be in the rehearsal room watching the other three members play and jam together. We talked of Reni and how we would’ve paid to go and see him at the Manchester Apollo even if he was just playing the drums on his own.
Press calls are normally staid affairs, but the Roses’ return at The Soho Hotel was pure pop art. The band had been rpepared fpr the worst. Afterwards Ian explained to me that he thought the media pack was going to tear them apart for reforming – but when they walked into the room they got a standing ovation. The four scruffy Robin Hoods were back – and everyone had something street-wise to write about again after years of being stuck with well behaved, clean behind the ears, college boy rock.
I asked the first question, querying if there would be new songs for us all to hear. Reni looked up and shouted something about me being cyber-handsome and everyone laughed, before the band revealed that there already was new material.
The banter had done the trick. The Roses were relaxed now. Reni continued in extrovert mode, piss-taking and winding everyone up; Brown batted off the tricky questions with charm; John Squire sat in centred silence; and Mani kept going off at hilarious tangents, claiming the band had called the press conference to announce that they’d split up! The whole thing flowed smoothly – at least until Ian cut a Daily Mail journalist down for writing for a paper that he claimed supported Hitler before the war. This was never a band that would go gentle into that good night.
Press conference duties done, Reni talked to me about songs he had up his sleeve and how good the band was sounding, worrying aloud if he would have the stamina after all these years to play the songs – quite possibly he was taking the piss in this respect as well. He may not be quite the skinny, wired firebrand we’d first met in those manky Manchester rehearsal rooms in the mid-’80s when I first bumped into the lads practicing in the room next to my own band, The Membranes, but he looks far fitter than a normal mid-forties rock’ n’ roller, that’s for sure.
The Membranes were pretty big in the cult stakes at the time with top 10 indie singles and albums, whilst the Roses were just another local band with big plans and bigger dreams. Even then, though, they had that extra something that mkes bands great. Ian Brown in particular had a swagger and piercing charisma which suggested the Roses could go any place they wanted to. Which they did. And now they were about to do it all over again.

A few weeks after the Soho House shindig I’m on the Justice Tonight tour with Mick Jones, Pete Wylie and The Farm, singing Clash songs to highlight the fact that the families of the 96 Hillsborough dead are still waiting for answers from a judiciary that doesn’t appear overly concerned about their fate. It’s no normal tour. Mick and his merry men won’t get paid a penny. I’m their compere and official diarist, writing running blogs on louderthanwar.com to document the tour.
There’s talk of secret guests for the Manchester Ritz show tomorrow night, but don’t tell anyone! John Squire and Ian Brown will be getting up and playing a couple of songs but no one is to know in advance. The Roses veil of secrecy is crucial. The gig is already emotionally-charged. With the bitter rivalry that exists between Manchester United and Liverpool, performing in the memory of Liverpool fans killed at Hillsborough, in perceived enemy territory, could be a tricky business. Thing is that Brown and Squire are massive United fans. However, Ian and I have always agreed that if Liverpool and Manchester could be joined together we’d be ready to take on the world – or at least London! And either way, a gig like this is a powerful act of solidarity, which goes beyond football.
When Ian and John shuffle on after the Clash set, no one seems to notice at first. Their secret has been kept safe – but as they prepare to play there’s sudden rush of excitement in the room. For the first time since 1995, the pair are live on stage in Manchester, and playing their anti-monarchy song ‘Elizabeth My Dear’. It is an electric moment. Then the rest of the Justice band scramble back onstage for a run-through of The Clash’s ‘Bankrobber’, with Ian taling hte lead vocal and Mick Jones trading licks with John Squire, who adored The Clash in his youth.
Rock’n’roll magic of this kind happens only rarely and so the post-gig mood is upbeat. Ian Brown comes back to the hotel with us and settle in for a long night. We talk of old times and new, and he calmly deals with an aggressive drunk who for some dumb reason wants him to slag off Oasis.
“We stick together in the north,” he tells the six-and-a-half-foot buffoon, who has the good sense not to argue the toss.
Fast forward a couple of months and the Roses tour proper is up and running. The opening night in Barcelona couldn’t have gone better, but gig number two in Amsterdam ended with Ian Brown marooned onstage thinking there was gong to be an encore. He publicly called Reni a cunt, in that typical mixture of northern sarcasm and frustration. Things could yet get hairy.
Thankfully, it’s all smiles and hugs onstage the following night in Sweden. By Germany, the set has stretched to nearly 100 minutes, with the obligatory likes of ‘I Am The Resurrection’ and ‘Fool’s Gold’ joined by the lesser-know, but every bit as well-received ‘Mersey Paradise’ and ‘Something’s Burning’. The band are hitting full stride – they are ready for Heaton Park, ready for Dublin.
Unpredictability is part of The Stone Roses’ magic. Ian Brown told the press conference that they’ll continue until the wheels fall off. Just like his childhood heroes you just don’t know what will happen next.
But for now at least, the last of the great British bands, who play by their own rules, defying the odds and delivering greatness are heading your way. This is the one! The Stone Roses are back.

The Stone Roses play Phoenix Park, Dublin on July 5. John Robb's The Stone Roses: Reunion Edition is out now on Ebury Press