It’s the one reformation few dared to believe would come to pass. Welcomed by boisterous applause and cheers, the announcement of one of rock’s most spectacular reunions in recent memory was made official at London’s Soho Hotel on 18 October 2011.

After all four members of the Stone Roses took their seats, the assembled mass of writers and journalists were modestly informed by Ian Brown that they were witness to a live resurrection. “So you’d best be careful,” he jokingly admonished. As a group who’d dealt in music which made people feel great about their own lives, The Roses were received as returning heroes.

Music journalist John Robb was amongst the press throng. “They’re normally very cynical affairs, with journalists asking hard questions,” he said. “But it was great.” As the press entourage left clutching press releases, rock photographer Pennie Smith waited, cigarette in hand, outside the hotel foyer. A new Smith photograph of the reunited Roses was produced in the lobby, a slightly more comfortable and gregarious monochrome pose than the image first released to the world.

By early evening, the Roses emerged, one at a time, from the inner sanctum of the Soho Hotel. Brown appeared to a small coterie of fans clutching cameras. The singer patiently posed for photos in a typical spree of amicable banter and bonhomie. Amidst a throng of well wishers, flashing bulbs and personal security, I asked Brown how it felt to be back with Squire and whether their friendship was still strong since their rapprochement in April at the funeral of bass player Gary ‘Mani’ Mounfield’s mother. “Yeah, it’s good, it’s going great,” Brown beamed, looking me straight in the eye. “Things are really good at the moment.” Asked if they planned to play London after their hometown return, he admitted they were keen to perform a series of secret dates for fans in the capital.

A behatted Alan ‘Reni’ Wren, the band’s drummer, emerged, clutching what appeared to be a rose, to a brief flurry of attention before ducking into a waiting car. Forever the most taciturn member of the group, John Squire’s summation of his reconciliation with Brown proved one of the most memorable anecdotes of the afternoon. Upon emerging, the guitarist uttered a single word during five minutes spent in the company of the group’s fans. How are rehearsals going, John? “Good.”

It’s now more than 20 years since the Stone Roses’ landmark, generation-defining debut album revitalised British guitar music forever. They were a band who’d dealt in empowerment, making people want to write, paint or be in a band themselves, to have the confidence to achieve something. “The best British music does that to people,” John Robb insisted. “They touched everybody in a really powerful way.”

Following a lengthy, tortuous gestation, Second Coming repositioned them in the public eye just as their Mancunian successors Oasis began their meteoric rise in 1994 with Definitely Maybe. One source insisted the Oasis material the Roses heard contributed to the months spent making song revisions during 1994. But if there’s one thing about this generation of Manchester bands, it’s that there’s no competition. Noel Gallagher was privy to the reunion news months ago but dutifully kept quiet, while an exuberant Liam has stated his intention to witness each show once the group venture out on their comeback trail. Brown insisted that the band is reforming on its own terms. And the lucrative financial reward, especially for Wren, who has not joined a band since being the first to quite the Roses in March 1995.

“Obviously there’s the money factor, which is a good thing for Reni,” Roses biographer Mick Middles admitted, “and that’s always going to be able to force their hands. You couldn’t see them passing it up on the back of some old dispute.”

Even when relations between Squire and Brown were as fractious as possible in the media in the intervening years, with tacit insults traded and vehement denials issued over reunion rumours, there remained a sense that, not unlike the long-running Lennon v McCartney press wars of the early 70s, beneath the wounded pride and hurtful accusations both men would be keen to be reconciled if they knew how to do it and the right moment presented itself.

Mani’s mother’s funeral in April proved to be just such a catalyst for their emotional reunion. As Squire conceded, it was the loss of Mani’s mum that “started the chain of events” that brought him and Brown back together: “Everything changed when me and Ian started seeing each other again. It was surreal. We went from crying and laughing about the old days to writing songs in a heartbeat. And I think it’s in some ways a friendship that defines us both and it needed fixing”.

“We think a beautiful thing has come out of a really sad situation,” Brown opined.

“It was one of those things – old friends meet in tragic circumstances,” John Robb reflected. “I guess it made their fall-outs seem small in comparison. It was an emotional day for them and they just became friends again.”

One phone call later, Mounfield was on board. It’s understood that Brown and Squire visited Wren with demos of their new material, and the Roses were soon conducting low-key summer rehearsals in an unnamed Manchester location, where a new set-list is being developed. “We’ve rehearsed, we’ve written songs, and in some ways it seems like 15 years ago was yesterday,” Squire admitted to the gathered press. “It’s quite strange.”

A notable absence of cynicism surrounded developments in the weeks following Brown and Squire’s reconciliation and the group’s subsequent reunion. Meeting in Soho prior to the Roses press conference, Robb was struck by Brown’s ebullience. “I’ve never seen him buzzing that much. He was bouncing up and down, looking really happy,” Robb explains. “He said it was amazing to be in a room playing music with those three people again. He actually thought it would be genuinely great; he wasn’t giving it the hard sell.”

“I just couldn’t see it happening,” Squire admitted, having previously resented even the idea of any forced reconciliation or prospective détente with Brown. Yet their rekindled friendship is genuine and they are clearly working as a creative force once again.

One crucial factor that’s been absent from the Stone Roses legacy is the quantity of material to substantiate the legend. Aside from the two studio albums proper, and a brace of collections and classic Silvertone singles, a third album would clearly be necessary, and may well prove to be the yardstick for any musical renaissance on the part of their principal songwriters.

Brown has revealed that their new work is characterised by a strong vein of “psychedelic pop”. Having written new material and looking to mine the classic songwriting vein that produced the likes of Made Of Stone, Waterfall and I Am The Resurrection, it could be that the new songwriting process has seen Squire revert to the guitar melodies of old with Brown focusing on lyrics.

It’s unclear whether Wren has presented his new songs to the rest of the group, one thing which had proved a tough proposition given Squire’s dominance in the past. Said Robb, “It’s important that they’re trying to do new stuff. But as Ian said, they’ve got new songs but if they don’t feel right, they’re not going to play them. They’ve got to be at the level they want them to be at.”

News of a work-in-progress third album prompted one journalist to enquire whether the Roses would call another press conference in five years to announce its release. The famously protracted and tortuous gestation of their last studio album has clearly not been forgotten. As Middles points out, when the group produced Second Coming, they were already older than The Beatles when they’d completed their sizeable canon of groundbreaking work.

Considering the momentum and huge following they’d built by mid-1990, they’d rapidly reached the brink of an international breakthrough. Having been released from their Silvertone contract following protracted court proceedings against the label in spring 1991, the Roses swiftly signed with the American major, Geffen.

They were duly given creative freedom and a substantial seven-figure advance before promptly disappearing, leaving the world to wait and wonder what was happening. More than one insider insists the group should have taken the Geffen advance and never returned.

Ian Brown has admitted the Roses should have worked out a follow-up LP in the rhythmic, guitar-funk slipstream of Fool’s Gold, One Love and Something’s Burning. Middles concurred, “I think those were wasted years after the Geffen deal, and their disappearance during Second Coming is reason alone for a comeback.”

Memories of the sessions seem to have produced something of a collective shudder within the group. Squire has conceded to the uncomfortable experience of this troubling period, while Mani insisted the Roses were a dysfunctional unit whilst making this record. Programmer Brian Pugsley, who worked on the earliest Second Coming sessions, begs to differ. “In my opinion dysfunctional bands, by definition, do not make great records.”

Producer John Leckie was resolute that Second Coming proved to be a collection of tracks rather than a fully-formed album. Maligned at the time, reviews in December 1994 offered as much relief as excitement over their long-anticipated return on record. The benefit of hindsight has amended those feelings somewhat. “With Second Coming, they nearly, nearly pulled it off, didn’t they?” Robb reasoned recently. “What a great album it was. The context is different. It’s a testing record, and that’s what’s great about it.”

Following the pressures, relationship issues, musical challenges and personal setbacks, its single greatest achievement perhaps was that it ever emerged, blinking into the daylight. The album has been re-evaluated to the point where its dense, sprawling blues and peaks of melodic power has ensured its rightful place as a worthy successor to their stunning debut statement. If nothing else, their reunion will certainly encourage fans to actively revisit the group’s back catalogue.

A continental drift both musically and personally found Brown (hip hop, rap) and Squire (heavy rock) moving in polar directions, one of the major stumbling blocks in Second Coming’s creation. Its co-producer Paul Schroeder recalls the challenges in the Brown-Squire relationship after the more harmonious experience of their coveted debut album. “Ian and John had grown up, and now had kids. When I walked in, I saw that the dynamic had changed. But it was workable. You just get on with it if people aren’t communicating. They’ve been together since they were kids; they know how to communicate.”

However, Mark Tolle, who engineered some of the Second Coming sessions, claimed their friendship did not seem a crucial factor in the longevity of the band. “In hindsight, you think, well it was important, but at the time you thought you were reading into it things that weren’t there. There was nothing there that made you think there were issues that might cause them to split up.”

Brian Pugsley recalled Brown’s magnetic persona in and around the studio. “There is certainly something remarkable about Ian’s presence. He has an enormous natural dignity, but that doesn’t quite capture the specialness.”

“This is a great band, but it’s an emotive band. It’s a volatile band of volatile people,” Robb reiterates.

“They’re a tough group, and they’re like the four points of the compass, North, South, East and West,” Schroeder stated, a man who never envisaged the group working together again after their long-winded Rockfield sessions during 1994. Brown has already regaled journalists with his unswerving admiration for his bandmates’ musical finesse, something which has not been lost, despite the years apart.

“There is no one in the world that can play like these three together. It’s an old thing that bands don’t do anymore, when they play together, that unseen member comes in and there’s something happening musically. It’s magical.”

“The most impressive thing,” recalled Tolle, “was the way they could just work an idea up, and the way they worked as a unit, rather than as four individuals. I very much felt that they were a band. They were jamming new stuff together and they’d work it up in no time.” Brown, for one, has expressed his willingness to pay good money just to sit and watch Wren drum again. As the most complete and accomplished musician, he has, as Pugsley reminded me, an animal fluidity few drummers can match.

“He plays with the power of Keith Moon, but he’s got that funkiness and he’s also a big rock fan,” Robb concurs. “That’s what makes Reni interesting.”

“I can’t believe Reni hasn’t done more since he left the group,” Schroeder confessed. “He’s a total showman.” On the evidence of last month’s press conference, the extrovert Wren was in ebullient, forthright mood.

“Now and again, Reni would come out with something and you’d laugh,” studio owner Noreen Vaughan mused. “He’d make these little cryptic remarks. He’d look at me in a funny fashion, and he’d say, ‘What time is it?’, ‘What day is it?’ and then he’d walk off.” Prior to his cryptic “9T” text, days before the press conference, Wren’s last comments on a speculative reunion came in 2005. “Never say never, but not this year,” he said.

Just two years ago, Squire wrote “I have no desire whatsoever to desecrate the grave of seminal Manchester pop group the Stone Roses” over a piece of his artwork, appearing to end speculation of a reunion.

“I was glad John quashed the rumours,” John Schroeder admitted, a dissenting voice. “Reunions are vulgar. Just look at Spandau Ballet!” Yet Mani has acknowledged the constant enthusiastic questioning from fans all over the world while on duty with Primal Scream. The huge, abiding swell of affection for the Roses made it seem inevitable.

Middles argued, “I think it had got to the point where they thought, it’s either gonna happen now or it’ll never happen.”

“We’re going to take it around the world,” Brown revealed after the confirmation of rumours that the Roses would be going global in 2012. “That’s if anyone buys a ticket, of course,” Wren jested in half-seriousness. Three days later, 220,000 tickets for three dates at the 75,000 capacity Heaton Park venue in Manchester sold out in little over an hour: the fastest selling shows in rock history, no less.

Any hint of cynical speculation over the wisdom of their decision to venture on stage for their first time in 15 years have been (anti-)royally blown out of the water. Unsurprisingly, the group have remained in jubilant mood ever since they heard the news of the comeback ticket blitz. Even at the height of their powers around Spike Island in 1990, the Roses would have struggled to match such public clamour for tickets.

The Heaton Park shows offers the chance to remedy the shortcomings of this “baggy Woodstock” spectacle, when poor sound and organisation blighted what should have been a triumphant musical moment for the Roses. “They’ve gathered more fans and followers. It should be a great event, and I don’t see how they can lose,” Middles insisted. “I don’t see any negatives.”

“I think that playing live will see them drop straight back into it,” Mark Tolle said. “It might have been 15 years since they played together, but I don’t see why it would cause any problems.”

Given the group’s live dynamic, their success may also rest on their long-retired drummer and ever-exuberant bassist. “Mani has said a few times over the years that Primal Scream are his main band and he’s said that he regards them more highly than the Roses,” said Mick Middles. “The other two [Squire and Brown] are not that dynamic on stage, which is strange. That’s where Mani and Reni might come to the fore.”

Despite Mani’s protestations to the contrary, Brown was keen to stress the significance of a hometown comeback for the people who “sent the Roses on their way” back in the late 80s. Tolle agrees. “They were definitely a Manchester band. I think playing there is typical of their attitude. They were firmly rooted, and when you spoke to them, you just felt like you’re talking to another Manchester band. They weren’t rock stars.”

Aside from the certainty of a world tour and the strong likelihood of festival shows, other UK dates, including a possible Liverpool Arena show the following month, have yet to be confirmed. With thoughts turning to Squire’s injury which blighted their great missed opportunity at Glastonbury of the summer of 1995, organiser Emily Eavis has already stated her eagerness to sign the Roses to headline the festival. And it’s clear there’s been a real need for a big act to fill the stage.

It seems the Roses are doing what they should have done way back when. In the intervening years, they’ve gathered imitators and built a growing fan base which has served to fuel their myth and kept hopes of a reunion alive. The Roses required an experienced management set-up for their reunion to be an ongoing concern and with Simon Moran looking after them, they are in good hands.

“We are going to rule the world again,” Brown declared with typical immodesty. There is clearly unfinished business. Perhaps the Roses should view this summer’s live comeback, the subsequent tour and a prospective third studio album as a perfect opportunity to lay doubts to rest and firmly establish themselves, once and for all, as one of the greatest British bands.

Reviewed by RICHARD WHITE
Record Collector 2011