
In two years, the Stone Roses have gone from stodgy semi-goth rockers to the hottest young guitar band in Britain. Craig Ferguson discovers their blossoming appeal
You can only go around telling people that you're the best band in the world for so long before they start believing you. The Stone Roses told me a year ago; since then, two well received singles, a 'buzz' as loud as a chainsaw, and now a sparkling debut album, 'Stone Roses', have more than helped to kick aside accusations of hollow arrogance. Excuse the pun, but it's been a good year for the Roses.
A group that is prone to saying that they'd like to be the first band to play on the moon are a writer's dream, but reading some articles, you'd think that the Stone Roses were the product of a magical inter-planetary explosion that took place just 12 months ago. In reality, their current success is the result of five years hard work. They've been well known, and well supported, in their hometown Manchester for some time, if not always for the right reasons.
Up to two years ago, they were still serving up a stodgy semi-goth rock to halls full of 'lads' intent on giving each other face rearrangements. Then suddenly, the ugly duckling disappeared, before returning to the golden pond of pop as a swan. A swan with a fringe.
The primeval grunge of yore had been replaced by thoughtful, well crafted melodies, more reminiscent of the Monkees and wait for it the Beatles.
"I don't think we were any good until 12 months ago. We realised that we needed good songs and that arrogance and good haircuts weren't enough on their own," admits singer lan Brown.
It is the be-fringed frontman who has been responsible for many of the quotes that have been interpreted by many as sheer arrogance. "I don't see that as arrogance," he defends. Maybe it's just 'attitude' as our American cousins would say.
The last time I met the Stone Roses, they'd just sacked their last bassist because he didn't like the Beatles.
Exactly what the Sex Pistols said in reverse! Now there was a group with 'attitude', something lan feels the Stone Roses definitely have an affinity with. "They're still my favourite group," he says, "even if the idea behind them was better than the actual thing."
A debate ensues, with drummer Reni the man leading the beanie hat revival questioning the adoption of Pistols ideology, before the two finally agree that what the Stone Roses are really into is "extreme change". And extremes are important to this group. On the one hand, they want to be as musically 'sorted' (Mancunian term meaning 'spot on', 'well good' etc) as the Beatles, and on the other, they want to have the impact of the Pistols. In other words they want to be everything to everybody. There's nothing like a bit of healthy ambition.
The Stone Roses are from Manchester, but they're not about to ride on the back of some petty northern patiotism.
"It doesn't matter where we come from really patronising when people seize hold of the Manchester/northern thing. Like, if you're in a northern group now, you must be a drug-taking Scally. Three years ago, you had to be miserable, you wore a raincoat and you hung around in graveyards. Which brings us onto the Smiths; probably the group that ord Mirror has got nearest to that Beatles/Pistols balance and the band Manchester pop bands will forever be compared to. They certainly stirred up a little controversy in their time and reaped the benefits. Could the Roses also find themselves in line for angry words from tin-pot MPs outraged at 'Elizabeth My Dear, their paean to her majesty, featured on the album.
"It's not being controversial for the sake of it -we've got to say what we think. It was about time someone had another go at the royal family; why does it always have to be a pop group?"
While their music is for the most part uplifting, and, let's admit it, sometimes exhilarating, the Stone Roses do have their dark side. After all, lan does sing, "I don't have to sell my soul, he's already in me" on 'I Wanna Be Adored'. Is he really the son of the devil? "I'm not gonna answer that," he answers enigmatically.
Watch that space in the Sunday Sport
Craig Ferguson
Record Mirror
20/5/89