Each time that I want to write about The Stone Roses' legendary debut, something gets in the way (lack of time, mostly). So I think I will just do it now, finally, a few days after the death of Gary "Mani" Mounfield. Because even though I have never been a fan, this was shocking, tragic and so really uncalled for.
The Stone Roses has the mystique that cannot be denied. It is a statement of intent, a big send-off to the 80s. It is a self-contained world. It effortlessly mixes beautiful guitar melodies with sonic grandiosity. It is conservative and also wildly experimental. Really, so much of 90s music in Britain would not have happened without it (I'm not passing any judgement here, just stating the obvious). Critics loved it, as did the audiences. In fact, they loved it to the extent that the second album never stood a chance.
And yet... I never quite bought into the mystique. Do not get me wrong, I like this album. I just never got the adoration (no pun intended). John Leckie, the album's producer, once spoke about how The Stone Roses was conceived as a perfect album. Just look at the way the whole thing is structured: you start with a classic opener ("I Wanna Be Adored") and end with a huge sprawling epic ("I Am The Resurrection"). And there is indeed something about the concept and the idea of this album that is grand and self-important and also a little... overreaching. You would not know it from the beginning, though. A beautiful rumble, then cleverly constructed guitar build-up and then Ian Brown singing the classic opening line (truly, one of the best opening lines in history):
I don't have to sell my soul
He's already in me
It really is a magical moment, and it is all the more painful that nothing that follows even comes close. I would expect fireworks after this, but nothing here lives up to that initial blast. Already the next song, "She Bangs The Drums" is little more than an unremarkable, if catchy, pop-rocker. I'd rather take "Waterfall" that follows - with a jangly groove and a timeless vocal melody. Next comes... "Waterfall" again. Only this time it is played backwards and bears the title "Don't Stop". It is an artistic choice so bizarre, it is actually quite brilliant. "Don't Stop" is a subdued psychedelic experiment that works.
Following that, the album settles into its confident proto-Britpop rhythm that is only broken once by the short acoustic ballad "Elizabeth My Dear" that rips off, quite unapologetically, the melody of "Scarborough Fair". Nothing on side two feels like a major highlight, but "Made Of Stone" does manage to stick out due to the superior melody and John Squire's flashy guitar solo. Regrettably, I have never been in love with the closing "I Am The Resurrection" that starts as a pleasant enough pop-rocker and ends with a lovely guitar freakout. Nothing about it justifies its title, though, and that encapsulates my main issue with this album: it is great all right - but does it really sound that great to someone not caught up in the Manchester craze of 1989? Does the actual songwriting warrant the 'adoration', the 'resurrection', the 'second coming'?
Sometimes I do get this urge to crack the mystique. Once in a while, I put this album on, and God knows it always blows me away for a few minutes or so. Sadly, it rarely, if ever, goes beyond that.
