
14 July, 1990 NME
Take no heroes, take only inspiration.
The Stone Roses take no heroes in their estimation of rock of days gone by. To them The Jesus And Mary Chain (""Psychocandy' had a groove to it"), The Smiths, Public Enemy, and De La Soul were the best bands of the '80s. The others could have been contenders but The Stone Roses knock them cold.
According to lan Brown and John Squire, the Crown Princes Of Pop, U2 are "drivel. Just crap, they don't sound like they mean it, they sound like they wanna be a famous pop group but forgot about the rest of it." Springsteen, dictates John, is no better: "He does nothing for me, all that power and glory chest-beating stuff."
"He always sounds like he's having a shit," adds lan. And what of Lou Reed? "He's a miserable bastard."
YOU CAN hear The Stone Roses swishing down the corridor before you even get to see them, rolling into the bar in their waders, trawlermen fresh off the boat.
Just as a pair of tight trousers ripped PJ Proby's career to a halt, so a few thousand pairs of denim flares have helped lan Brown's destiny, or so it has been said. Today lan Brown and John Squire are decked out in the rib-tickling waterproof fishing waders they wore in the Swiss snow on NME'S last Christmas cover.
"Our clothes get written about more than our music," admits lan. "Did we have safety pins in our jackets when we were Sex Pistols fans? No, I don't think so. I used to have a pair of tight trousers though, when everyone else had flares on. Painted shirts. I was only about 13... 12, 13. John did have 24 inch black cotton drill hipsters in '84 though."
lan Brown's favourite tipple is brandy, "Anything except beer, wine, gin and vodka," he insists. John too lives in his own bizarre stratosphere. His paintings have taken on an important role within the group's identity. At Spike Island they looked brilliant projected behind the band. "I've never tried to pass my paintings off as my own," he says of his Jackson Pollock pastiches.
"We wanted Jackson Pollock's paintings on the covers but they cost three quarters of a million each," admits lan."People ask to buy my paintings but I haven't sold any. I like them," smiles the painter.
"Did you ever see Tom Keating? He had a TV show where he used to rip off Old Masters and show you how it was done. He once sold one, there was a big scandal. It's just that sort of attitude, I'm trying to do me own stuff now though. I've stopped dripping and splashing."
Do you identify with John Lydon or Beefheart or Ronnie Wood. musicians who paint?
"Yeah," he laughs bemused, "I Identify with Ronnie Wood." - "He's always been an Arty twat" laughs Ian.
THEY WENT through grammar school together and came out of it with eight O levels between them. John got time off games to pant and lan was interested in boxing .
Fed on The Stones, Elves, The Beatles, and Northern Soul before coming across The Pistols they than moved on to The Clash, reggae and Primal Scream for dessert. Art, rugby league, rock in and scooters. Fashion, graffiti and fictional pages. All followed accordingly.
After Five years of cleaning dishes, traveling Europe, washing caravans, building models for cartoon sets and intensive dole life, the drop-out band named after art obscure 50s crime thriller were signed to Silvertone label by bows Andrew Lauder. They'd played one brief tour of Sweden and released three relatively unheard singles but they'd built a phenomenal local following.
Local became national and now it means worldwide. Suchus meteoric British rise has caused confusion in the minds of ageing ex-punks and strychnine-humoured soul boys. Initially the tabloid press dubbed them more dull Northerners before cottoning on to their bizarre fashions and their arrogant stance. At the Spike land press conference the over paid hacks sat at the front and asked doclie questions, still out of touch with those with their fingers on the triggers. The Rases posed loftly above them. Lika Dexys and New Order before them, lan, Ranti, Mani and Jotin have demand autonomy and got it.
"its our music" replies Ian claiming ownership as the reason they require such control.
Sweet and tender hooligans interested in art and violence They could be called New Age Droogs who've skipped the Clockwork Orange in favour of a Paint-Splattered Lemon .They admire beauty but refuse to be dictated to. Mike Tyson meets Jackson Pollock for a discussion about The Byrds.
In January 1985 they were namechecking The Redskins, Alarm, and Slaughter. Their ideal future would see them with lan McCulloch's integrity and Wham!'s bank account. Noticeably they had already decided, either out of choice or necessity, "Time is on our side. We see ourselves as a long-term project.not one-hit wonders."
Talking to lan the boxer and John the painter today it's hard to get them to comment on other bands. John stood in a Swedish hotel foyer recently and picked at Primal Scream's 'Loaded' video for being too close to one of their own. I figured they were equal then, 'Velocity Girl' for 'Made Of Stone', video for video.
They'll admit friendship with the Mondays because they know they've got to, if they don't the press will create an exaggerated rivalry. They're more interested in having their picture taken with fighter planes than with other bands. They recently leant against an F-104 Starfighter in Holland, the fuselage was flattered.
Like their music, their conversation rocks from the gentle to the freaked, it's spiked with mischief. They rarely get animated, they let their eyes do the talking.
The first time we met was on lan's 27th birthday, though he insisted he was only 24. They'd just finished recording 'One Love' in Rockfield Studios, Wales, it is reportedly half an hour long. Spike Island is but an idea.
We chat over rich chocolates and fresh orange juice in a continental hotel in swanky West London. Next door policemen guard the Penguin publishing HQ from insane Muslim assassins. lan reveals the contents of the glossy carrier bag behind him to be his birthday presents; a huge Oriental puppet, bottle of brandy, heavyweight coffee table books about pugilism and subway graffiti, boxes of chocolates.
Answering questions, lan gently rolls his head like a spaced-out monkey, he's either being shy, cool, or has a neck complaint. The huge brown eyes that captured the attention of a fascinated Sinead O'Connor glint larger than life. John sits hunched beneath his fringe, his voice barely audible above the rustle of his waders. He too looks ethereal, calm. His face too peaceful to suggest he's responsible for all those riffs and backward masking.
"We would have done an album earlier if we'd had the money for it. Nobody'd give us a deal would they, huh? Then everyone wanted to sign us. We got a buzz off what we were doing so that's why we carried on, it doesn't matter if the rest of the world hasn't caught up with you, ignores you, it doesn't really matter, there was no feeling of frustration or not getting to sleep at night. If you're into it you just roll with it don't you? Because you know that in the end people are going to get into it. We still have strong self belief.
"You can do exactly what you want," lan continues, "You'read about these groups moaning about their record companies, you don't have to do anything you don't want to do. Nothing. No one anywhere has to do anything they don't want to do. I've always known that since I was a little kid. you're only here once, do what you feel. When I was ten i knew that if you don't want to do this you don't do it, if you get a crack round the head you get a crack round the head but you stili don't do it. You can get a crack round the head anytime unless you lock yourself in a mansion."
At a time when most bands have their careers shaped for them by managers and record companies you exercise total control over what you do, why is that?
John: "It's an important relationship, if people want to know what you're doing, what you think, what you sound like, then you should give them it all yourself. You shouldn't have other people doing your sleeves and telling you how your videos should be, dressing you. It should be you, it should be complete."
lan: "New Order are just another group who know they can do exactly what they like. We haven't got no role models if that's what you mean. I don't think you do shape your attitude, you have it or you don't. You can't contrive an attitude 'cos it's see-through then. There're a lot of sharks about but not to the point of paranoia."
A lot of bands become immensely paranoid.
Ian: "Fing right they are, they're fed up completely, should pack it in because they make spectacles of themselves constantly, it's embarrassing and it's sad. You see them when you watch the telly or read the paper. We don't feel we have to qualify ourselves. Some people want us to because they're really into us and want to know everything about you. We're not trying to make a puzzle.
"I don't think we operate on ego, I don't think we're egotistical. You've got to have a bit of an ego to show off at a live gig and if you don't show off you don't look good and you're not entertaining. I don't feel that different, it's different on a bus or in Safeway's because you get people asking you to write your name on a bit of paper.
"We keep getting asked, 'Is it like being in a film?' And it isn't, so maybe it's an anti-climax, it's just more people know about you."
You've been brought in front of the courts for allegedly attacking a record company with paint, blown up a BBC TV studio live, refused to go on Jonathan Ross, and you refuse to tour in favour of creating one-off events. Are you deliberately attempting to become notorious?
J: "It's just.
I: "Us. It's what's happened to us."
J: "It's just the way it is, we don't see it as revolutionary or anything."
How would you feel if people started chucking paint at you at gigs?
J: "I'd probably get stuck in with my guitar if someone chucked paint at me."
You wouldn't see it as a form of tribute?
I: "Not if they got it on his best pants, man."
J: "We've had lemons chucked at us, sliced or full."
I: "With messages written on them. I've been hit on the head a few times, but you just carry on. At least it's not bottles or gob."
J: "We'll have to put some shit on the next LP sleeve, see if they throw that at us."
Your audiences are very mixed sex-wise.
J: "We're told it's 60/40, how can you tell a boys' band? Do the audiences smell more sweaty?" 1: "We used to be called a lads band. Now we get called a girls' band."
Do you think you're the Intelligent teenager's crumpet?
I: "He heh hey, dunno, we might be, hah hah hah. If that's all we're worth then fing hell, it's all in vain. We've got no responsibility to no one but ourselves.
Someone's gotta be put on a pedestal as sex symbols and it might as well be us."
You're not re-affirming the same rock values that the spandex-trousered crowd are.
J: "Maybe, I just don't like spandex trousers. The average spandex-clad guitarist might be a really nice guy, a feminist even, but I doubt it."
"They're likely to be fuelled by pure ego and nothing else, but then it's good fun because you watch their downfall. I like watching public downfalls. David Bowie, when he came everybody thought he was from Mars then you realise he's just this businessman. A chancer. I like seeing pricks make pricks of themselves in public, especially when they don't know they're doing it.
Bowie a hero? Oh no! I hate him, useless, rubbish. His songs never meant anything to me. I like bits of that 'Low' LP, we don't want him in the article anyway though. David who?"
Were you aware of the difference between dance records and rock records when you were growing up?
I: "No, I think they're the same, 'Needle In A Haystack' was the same as 'Anarchy' and 'Too Late' by Larry Williams and Guitar Watson was the same as 'Janie Jones' by The Clash. A record needs a feel or it's nothing."
Do you deliberately blur the meaning to your lyrics?
J: "Do you mean we don't know what we're on about? The records we like ourselves are ones that last because they're not so obvious on the first listen."
I: "Sometimes more direct stuff works really well, it depends how it's done. 'What's Going On' by Marvin Gaye works really well because it's him, whereas if Billy Bragg sung those words it'd sound daft. We both do the lyrics. He does a line I do a line, he does ten lines I do one word.
"We know how to communicate with each other without embarrassment or inhibition. The way to lose inhibitions is to realise that no-one's better than yourself.
Everyone's capable of it. You don't have to think you're the best, you just have to know that no other one person is better than you, is worth more than you yourself.
"We don't care if our records go to Number Nine, it doesn't mean nothing, if it goes to Number One it does. It needs more than one group to change things, it needs loads of them. If we give strength to people then it's good."
You've just recorded a 30-minute long single. How do you break that down to a six-minute 12"?
J: "Cut out 24, ha ha ha. The first six minutes are good, then it goes on a bit."
I: "If the two tracks were good then we would put out a two track album. Anything's possible, anything at all."
DESPITE SHAKING Britain with their talented musical dexterity and panache The Stone Roses are hardly hurting to get to the USA. When asked how they intended to approach the States lan replied:
"We're not going to get stuck into all that 40-date tour shit, the main reason being that I don't believe anyone's got enough energy to make every gig as good as the last one. It'd just turn you into morons. They're already on the phone every ten minutes, 'Why aren't you coming? Things here are ripping.' As they say. Another high-and-mighty fat bastard thinking he can...
" J: ""Will you go and play just for the record company just to encourage them?' There's not much need to go over there yet, you can watch it on telly every day, here."
I: "I'm really looking forward to going over but in our own time, not just to see someone whose daughter wants to see us."
J: "I don't see it as any sort of rock 'n' roll conquest, step up the ladder. I'd rather go to Egypt or Goa or Bhali or Thailand."
I: "That's why we wanted to do Japan before America because we wanted to go there more."
Did visiting Japan affect your attitude towards Britain?
I: "It reaffirmed beliefs I had about our culture. Britain's just a little toy town with a lot of people riding on the backs of most people, this stupid Royal Family. I can't understand it."
J: "It's sexually repressed as well. In Japan, women could walk down the streets at four or five in the morning without being harrassed, we didn't see any fights, no one staring you out as you walked down the street."
I: "You get women walking up backstreets at 3am with an air of confidence and that's quite a major thing. Women don't feel safe on these streets, which means we're backwards, dunnit? Less clued in.
"The first Tokyo gig was like being in Manchester. We'd been told they'd be quiet and polite and clap between the songs, but they all started dancing as soon as we walked on, for a second we were properly gobsmacked. You go to the other side of the world and 2,000 people are singing along and screaming. That was the most satisfying gig. People told us not to expect too much but we were sure they'd dance and they did and it showed that it doesn't have to be any set way." J: "It was just commercialism in overdrive there. Every 20 yards down the street there was a drinks dispenser with hot coffee and tea, restaurant windows had plastic meals in them just like the food you could order, video screens in the street, it was like Blade Runner. I know there's an estate there that they leave off the maps because it's so horrible and they don't want tourists to see it.
I: "I got a letter from a 15-year-old girl in Japan who got beaten up by her dad every time she came home from school, about how she put the album on and it stopped her committing suicide. All the secret messages she was picking up from it. Double heavy letter. I don't know what she was asking me to do for her, that was a bit odd, there's loads of wacky bastards though.
Do you think the radical change in British music and the revolutions in Eastern Europe could have been linked with the end of an old decade, people seeing the oncoming '90s as a chance to create cultural and social change?
J: "Human beings have realised they can make things change, it's got more to do with having beert put down all your life than merely the end of the last decade that could have something to do with it. There's still time in China, they probably haven't heard much of what's happened in Europe"
I: Its positive thinking, then again, Phil Collins just won British Single Of The Year, the one about poor people, so maybe he's got more of a link with it. Did you see his speech? He said "When When you're driving home tonight after these awards in your nice big car don't look away from them, look at them. That's what he said, ha ha ha. "Look em in the eye and it'll be alright. He's so out of touch it's not trum, hio own guilt's fueling sim "He should have but them to buy em a house"
WHEN THEY were out in Sweden the Roses were at ease and at play, rolling around Scandinavia in a double decker tour juggernaut with a sound system blasting out 50s pop and House music. After the Stockholm gig in an Abattoir, the band went out in search of a club. The one they landed in, followed by just a few fans, played Fool's Gold on their amival then went back to the zing zang disco that Swedes listen to. The entourage drank champagne and aped at their leisure.
Later John and I cruised Stockholm at dawn, hopping from calb to cati in search of an open cafe, a bar, a pool hall, life! Little was said but there are times when you know your life is one of luxury. When pockets of fans are met with pockets full of crumpled Foreign currency.
For me The Stone Roses are the most exciting British band make it big since The Jam. Like Weller's seminal band they've mixed different styles and come out on top with their own definitive feet. They exude arrogance without appearing like the lipstick and fannying around on a yacht video bands of the mid-80s.
They're natural and easy on the ear and the eye. They're not the star strangled tossers most big bands become, yet.
When did you first notice a change in your position?
I: "When Made Of Stone (the second Silvertone single) was Single Of The Week probably, that was when we realised that the press knew we existed.
We'd already sold out Inter 1 and 2 and the Hacienda at that time we could play anywhere in Manchester, London we'd maybe get 200.
After Made Of Stone went POW and you can couldnt get into the London gigs, it felt right, it felt natural, it felt like we were in the right place at the right time.