The Stone Roses

The fact of the matter is that the Roses produced a classic debut album, a patchy second one and live were more miss than hit. But that was then, this is now. With Brown off the beer ‘n’ gear for the duration of the tour, Reni – who’d departed prior to the Pairc Ui Chaoimh debacle – back in the fold and rave reviews all round for their Heaton Park homecoming dates, I’m fully prepared to succumb to the Third Coming.
It starts splendidly with the band sauntering on in willfully mismatched clobber – either that or they’re doing their care in the community bit by hiring a visually impaired stylist. Mani is sporting a groovy baby Austin Powers kaftan; Ian has opted for a designer biker jacket/prison jeans combo; John is rocking the crumpled humanities lecturer look and Reni has gone for a trackies, footie shirt, tea towel and trucker cap ensemble that will give Gok Wan nightmares for the rest of his life.
The opening ‘I Wanna Be Adored’ is goosepimply awesome – the Phoenix Park massive singing the riffs as well as the words with a gusto to rival The World’s Best Fans® at the Euros. Indeed, we get our first failed attempt to get an “olé olé olé” going at the end.
And then they play the lesser-known ‘Mersey Paradise’, the crowd goes mute and the full extent of Brown’s vocal shortcomings become evident again. The odd bum note’s fine, but this is sub-Warrington pub karaoke fare, which reaches its nadir on a version of ‘Bye Bye Badman’ so discordant I count at least a dozen people around me wincing. Not helping is a mix that for the first half-dozen tunes has King Monkey sadistically to the fore.
Thankfully, the rest of the chaps are playing out of their skins. Most of us were too off our bins at the time to appreciate it, but Squire is the Jimmy Page of baggy; Mani is funky enough to earn himself a gig with Chic; and Reni, well, there aren’t words to describe what he’s doing to those drums.
What’s absent though is the joi de vivre we got earlier in the night from Mick Jones and his Justice Tonight compadres as they tore through Clash classics like ‘Train In Vain’, ‘Bankrobber’ and ‘Should I Stay Or Should I Go’. Joined by Shane MacGowan for the chaotic double-whammy of Vince Taylor’s ‘Brand New Cadillac’ and The Farm’s ‘Alltogether Now’, their beaming faces were in stark contrast to the Roses’ joyless ‘let’s get the job done’ demeanour.
On the plus side, the 12” version of ‘Fool’s Gold’ is as psychedelic as the lasers accompanying it – Squire coaxing acid squirts out of his amps while the rhythm section transport themselves back to the Hacienda; ‘One Love’ flipside ‘Something’s Burning’ is similarly mind-melting and the closing ‘I Am The Resurrection’ is loud enough to wake not only the dead, but also Michael D. and the missus next-door in the Áras.
A gig that had its magic moments, but not the all-round religious experience we’d hoped for.