The Waltons & The Stone Roses
Manchester International 1
26/6/87

THE WALTONES are like some kind of post-Smiths Merseybeat band. With tight little songs, lightweight guitars and an unselfconscious, carefree stage image they provide innocent, gleeful entertainment but a lack of certain power or substance.

The Stone Roses generate a much brasher excitement. Their Manchester following, made up of a large, laddish. flat-top crew, have taken these four Stone Roses to their hearts. The music itself is a clash of styles; a clash of the good and the ugly. Their dulcet, simple songs (like the new single 'Sally Cinnamon') make them sound like a smart, verve-ridden version of Primal Scream, but at other times this fine artistry is marred by a sulky, confrontational influence learned from Theatre of Hate.

They've got the most magnificent frontman, a born winner, the most mobile and excitable singer I've seen this year, he delivers his full-throated words with a grin and a flourish, he bobs about the stage like a man on a quayside who knows his ship is coming in. They've got the best young drummer in Manchester town, an obsession (I would guess) with the '60s, and (judging by the audience tonight) an ability, at least, to make you take your shirt off.

Dave Haslam