A rose by any other name couldn't smell this sweet (The Stone Roses - Stone Roses)

Member Name: oberob

Product:	The Stone Roses - Stone Roses
Date:	16/04/08 (180 review reads)
Rating:

Advantages: Paved the way for every great guitar band since 1989.

Disadvantages: Slightly muted production, "Don't Stop".

Your initial thought upon finding this review may have been "Why do we need another review on The Stone Roses?" On one level, you might be justified in taking that view. Writing reviews on albums by The Stone Roses, The Beatles, Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin et al will always run the risk of carrying the cache of pointlessness. Those who love bands such as these (or other canonical 'greats') will not need any further eulogies to strengthen their ardour. Those who hate them will never have their minds changed.

However, I think it is important that when something is generally considered to be a work of genius that it is highlighted and reappraised down the ages, as a landmark, or a piece of treasure. That is, after all, what led me to this album in the first place.

As a country, we have been very lucky to produce some of the finest musicians and bands the world has ever seen. And since the advent of popular music, it is fair to say that every decade has produced a 'scene' or a phenomenon (although the first decade of the 21st century has left a lot to be desired). In the fifties, it was Elvis and Buddy. In the sixties, it The Beatles and The Rolling Stones. In the seventies, it was Led Zeppelin, T-Rex and punk. And in the eighties, there was new romanticism, acid house, The Happy Mondays and, of course, The Stone Roses.

I only came to their debut album during my own generation's scene - Britpop. I am not going to sit here and analyse The Stone Roses' influence on Britpop, or how they opened the door for guitar bands again. Rather, I wanted to give my own opinion on what is widely accepted as one of the greatest albums of all time, and also share exactly what it means to me.


The Band

The band were:

Ian Brown - Vocals
John Squire - Guitar
Mani - Bass
Reni - Drums


The Album

Ian Brown and John Squire are credited with writing and composing all songs on the album, which was released in 1989 at the height of acid house, the fall of communism across Europe and the beginning of the end for Margaret Thatcher. So, with many reasons to be cheerful, let's put the CD in, and kick off with Track 1.
I Wanna Be Adored (4.52)

The album opener and an anthem. Gliding in with mechanical whispers, one of the most famous bass lines of all time chugs into action. I saw Ian Brown performing this live at a festival a few years back, and the crowd were singing the bass line and the guitar riff at the stage as the song started. Sing-a-longs at gigs are par for the course, but how many songs have their riffs sung at a concert? An insistent drum beat kicks in, and all you can do is surrender, as John Squire's shimmering guitar intro chimes and echoes down your spine.

Ian Brown's vocal is pitched perfectly - half sung, half whispered, the repeated intonation of "I don't have to sell my soul / He's already in me" is mesmerising. As we will see with the rest of the album, the religious imagery is something that was present in a lot of The Stone Roses' work. The meaning of I Wanna Be Adored isn't clear. Is there a religious connotation? Is it a statement of intent, or a swipe at celebrity? It is this mystery that makes the lyrics on this song and this album so seductive.

The song ends with a strangely distorted, yet deliberately empty guitar sequence, as Brown cries out the eponymous lyric one final time. By itself, perhaps not the greatest song of all time (and certainly not single material in my view) but it is perfect in the context of the album. This song whets the appetite and is but a vague sign of the brilliance to come.

She Bangs The Drums (3.42)
A pure pop classic, which only made it to number 36 in the charts - a sign of the times and nothing else.

The cymbals provide a riveting introduction married perfectly to another magical bass line. I have yet to hear another band that can produce such a tight rhythm section. The fusion of drum and bass that The Stone Roses produced fits in perfectly with the acid house craze that was so emphatic at the time.

The guitar washes over you as Ian Brown sings the lyric that defined a generation:

"Kiss me where the sun don't shine /
The past was yours but the future's mine"

The main thing that strikes me with this song is its lyrics. They are so obvious and one finds it difficult to believe that it took until the late eighties for someone to write them. In terms of metre and atmospheric tone, they are poetry.

The tempo is upbeat and doesn't relent through a chorus that makes you want to kiss the sky. The guitar is clearly technically intricate but sounds so devilishly simple. Primarily a love song, or at least a celebration of the rush that love brings with it. I dare anyone to listen to this song and not think of a sunny day.

Waterfall (4.37)
The song hangs on a famous riff which carries the song all the way to it's final, slightly disappointing solo.

I always regard this song slightly indifferently. Clearly well conceived, with an intro that sounds like the start of a day, it drifts from its final chorus to an anti-climatic solo and closure.

Again, drum and bass are locked down tight, and the guitar seems to harmonise with itself. Neither an upbeat or downbeat tempo, it sounds like a ballad trying to break into a crystalline pop song.

Ian Brown's lyrics are, typically, intense and mystifying. The album carries with it archetypal rock and roll sentiments - rebellion, love, resistance and rapture. They are present here:
"So good to have equalised /
To lift up the lids of your eyes"

Awakening, or the dawn of a new energy, seems to be songs message. It was certainly a timely one as the 1980's drew to a close, long resented structures were pulled down and guitar bands made a comeback after years of Stock, Aitken and Waterman driven bubblegum pop. "Stands on shifting sands", "Now, you're at the wheel" - the times, they were a-changing.

Don't Stop (5.17)
For me, the low point on this album. Essentially, just "Waterfall" played backwards with Ian Brown's hushed intones weaved over the top of it. The song has always felt somewhat out of place to me on this album. With three such famous songs in front of it, with their central themes of love and the possibilities of the future, to suddenly play a song backwards seems ironic.

I make no secret of my dislike for the song. What I cannot deny though, is that it does still hold it's musical richness and rhythm in spite of being played backwards. And you have to admire the audacity of these musicians for even considering putting it on the album.

Bye Bye Badman (4.00)
The repetitive guitar strum at the start is misleading. Just one tap of the cymbal later and the burning arpeggio of John Squire guitar drenches the song in some of the most melodic riffs I have ever heard. The upbeat chorus makes the heart skip, and like "She Bangs the Drums", it is irresistible to dance to. I have studied this song relentlessly, and cannot fathom how the drums achieve that rhythm. It is simply magnificent.

A medium tempo verse dazzles you with a guitar line that sounds innocent and inviting. Contrast this with Brown's rasped lyrics:
"Come taste the end, you're mine"

The Stone Roses were known admirers of the protestors from the French student riots of 1968. The song is full of references: The "citrus sucking sunshine" Brown refers to relates to the belief of the protestors that if they sucked lemons then this would counter the effects of the tear gas. "These stones I throw / Oh these French kisses / Are the only way I've found" - does that not speak for itself?

Another feature of this album, which filters through most of its contents, is the contrast of styles, often oxymoronic. As mentioned, musically, this song seems full of love, or joy. Yet the lyrics, so importantly, give it a cynical, menacing twist. None of the songs on this album should be taken at face value...

Elizabeth My Dear (0.59)
...apart from this one!
A simple acoustic folk song, with lyrics that require no explanation:

"Tear me apart and boil my bones /
I'll not rest till she's lost her throne /
My aim is true, my message is clear /
It's curtains for you, Elizabeth My Dear".
Ian Brown claims that the entire song was revealed to him in a dream about assassinating the Queen. Staunch anti-royalists, The Stone Roses would court minor controversy with this song (one has to remember that in 1989 the Royal Family were still relatively popular). For fans now, though admiring it's pluck, the song is pleasant enough, but pales in comparison to the Roses' other, more subtle, expressions of rebellion.

(Song For My) Sugar Spun Sister (3.25)
A late 80's psychedelic classic. Again the simplicity of the opening guitar strokes lulls the listener into a false sense of security. Brown's half whispered, half mumbled lyrics about the whiteness of 'her' hair, how she "hates all that she does", initially seem contradictory to the sense of youth, purpose and confidence the album has previously recited. And then a soaring bridge to the chorus, which to this day I am not sure I entirely understand:
"Until the sky turns green /
And the grass is several shades of blue /
Every member of parliament trips on glue"

Conventions are being turned upside down. It will take all of these things to make his Sugar Spun Sister is happy. Who this figure is, we don't know. The chorus ends with a stomping drumbeat and crash of guitar chords as Brown moans "It will take all these things and oh much more". Clearly, these are men who are not willing to just settle for tradition. It reminds me of that expression, where someone is so in love with someone else, that they'd believe the sky was green if they told them so.

The guitars here are more reliant on chords than a single definable riff like the previous songs. The song jams out on a chorus of "Yeah Yeah Yeah". It is fun, it is driving, and it is the perfect lead up to the darker, even more anthemic eighth song on the album.

Made of Stone (4.10)
I have thought long and hard about how to review this song. But it is nigh on impossible.
The guitar intro is majestic. Shimmering down the scale for 15 seconds as the bass blends in to Brown's perfect vocal. Bass, drum, guitar are in perfect harmony for the next 35 seconds leading into THAT chorus.

The reason I have broken down the seconds is because of how quickly this song builds. It is utterly relentless and the medium tempo start crashes into an insistent rhythm that drags you off your feet and takes you into the air "No land, just sky, it's so serene". One can almost imagine the four players, looking at each other, knowing at exactly what point to hit every note. Musically, it is one of the most well constructed, perfect songs I have ever heard.

An anthem of indie and beyond, the song naturally hangs on it's magnificent chorus. Again, the themes of despondency, and a desire to leave these crumbling institutions is present:

"Sometimes I fantasise /
When the streets are cold and lonely /
And the cars they burn below me".
In spite of the songs anthemic musical qualities, the coldness of the lyrics is frightening. It sounds like a nightmare. Burning cars, twisted grills, deserted streets, and loneliness - the world seems to lack any warmth or hope, or indeed any human touch. Is it a call for people to touch their own spirits again?

John Squire's mesmerising and cutting solo after two and a half minutes gives way to a sound that makes you feel that the song is about to take off. And all the while that drum beat has cast a spell on your feet, which have been tapping for three minutes quite unbeknown to yourself.

One last, triumphant chorus later, Brown asks a horrifying question: "Are you made of stone?" In my eyes, a call to the listener to look at himself. Do you feel lonely? Do you fantasise? Does this song send chills up your spine? If the answer is yes to any of these, then The Stone Roses clearly believe they can help you!

The song plays out on its intro again, and the subsequent silence is deafening.

Shoot You Down (4.10)
The album slows down now with a chilled out and groove infused number, that always sounds more like a jam than a song to me.

The bass is nice and high in this song, which is important because The Stone Roses bass lines were in the main perhaps more indispensable than their guitar riffs. That's a tribute to their appeal to people who liked dance or acid house music at the time too. This song is perfect for those who have been dancing all night and come home to chill out to a psychedelic offering, which in truth never rises much beyond its chilled out bass licks.

One feature that is a highlight is the moment when the music stops and Ian Brown sings solo for a moment. Brown was always criticised for his live vocal performances (which was often fair as he did sound like he was shouting into a bucket) but here, he sounds like a choirboy.

This Is The One (4.58)
Although "Made of Stone" is the undisputed classic song from this album, this song is my personal favourite and one that, in my view, would have made a better finale (and that will be considered sacrilege by some).

I can't lie - I fell in love to this song, and it was my first love. I realise that sounds quite cheesy given the name of the song but that's the truth of the matter. So there.

All the contrasts are present and correct again. A guitar intro that sounds like it has been cut from glass, giving way to the whispering wind and almost unheard bass line. The guitar riff rejoins for a moment, followed by a crash of drums and Ian Brown's vocal about another unknown, beautiful woman, calling on her to immerse him in her splendour. Think now, when you first fell in love (and I was 16 or 17 the time), that was exactly how it felt wasn't it? You wanted to immerse yourself in their flawlessness, their beauty and run away with them.

It is a slow and downbeat rhythm, which is dragged to it's feet on 1:42, as Squire's guitar soars above a maze of tricky riffs, and the drums get faster and faster, like a rush of blood, and before you know it you are being driven through some of the most beautiful music ever committed to vinyl by an indie band:

"I'd like to leave the country (ohhh) /
For a month of Sundays /
Burn the town where I was born /
If only she'd believe me (ohhh) /
Bellona Belladonna /
Burn me out or bring me home."
This lyric represents so many things. The disaffection with home - which could be disillusionment with England and its values or just a young kid wanting to run away. The ebullient yell of Bellona Belladonna, or "Beautiful Woman" (although in my head, I hark back to Eliot's "The Waste Land", where Belladonna is the lady of situations). The call to be taken home or burnt out, a desire for extremity that says if I can't burn this energy and experience this love then I might as well be one of these rotting institutions and suffocate.

And then we are quiet again, with that guitar line still trickling in the background. A rattle of cymbals begins to whoosh through and you know that you are heading for another rush. The song surges in tempo and "This is the one" is repeated incessantly, save for a brief lyric incanting "It might go right / it might go wrong / this is the one / this is the one she's waited for". A sign that they know things are uncertain, naïve maybe, but the feeling is right and their souls are certain. And that means so many things - it is youth, it is rock and roll and it is love.

One thing I have failed to mention so far are the angelic backing vocals of Reni, the drummer. He compliments Brown so wonderfully on this song, and it is a tragedy that he has not gone on to have his own solo career in the wake of the Roses' split. His is a talent that needs to be heard.

I Am The Resurrection (8.12)
The finale, and THAT guitar solo.
Perhaps the most contritely structured song on the album, using a very simple verse / bridge / verse / bridge pattern and built on an insistent drum line that stomps all the way through like a rock and roll bailiff kicking down the door to your soul.

After being an album of so many stylistic contrasts, where the music is tight but the lyrics don't seem to fit in tone, and vice versa, we have a song here where the spiteful lyrics are in tandem with a raw and intensifying guitar, bass and drum triumvirate.
"Don't waste your words /
I don't need anything from you /
I don't care where you've been /
Or what you plan to do."

In other words, I don't need you, I don't want you, and there is nothing you can do to draw a line on my memory.
Contrast this with the final chorus as the song builds towards, what seems to be, its climax:
"I am the resurrection and I am the light /
I couldn't ever bring myself to hate you as I'd like"

Love wins out. Be it through religion, music or the spoken word, human unity and optimism are the order of the day here.
The song would be distinctly average if it were not for the five minute jam and guitar solo that is plugged firmly, but appropriately, into the end of the song. I think this is an important point - to me, it is not the most complete song in the world, and the opening three minutes do seem a little detached from the final frantic five. However, musically, the outro is simply triumphant.

The guitar gleams and then snarls, before turning into a fairy box and back again. The bass is thick and meaty, supporting the distortion and then opening out into a jazz infused line that frees the drums to weave the magic. It is the sound of musicians at the peak of their powers, and words do not do it justice.


The Verdict

A regular in any list of the greatest albums of all time, I think it earns it every time. No one, fan or otherwise can deny its influence on British music. Arriving at a time when guitar music was considered to have had its day (with The Smiths already a distant memory) it pushed open the door sufficiently wide enough for Oasis, Suede, Blur, Pulp etc to come crashing into the room in the early nineties, ironically while The Stone Roses themselves were busy pressing the self destruct button.

If one has to find a criticism, aside from "Don't Stop", it might reasonably be said that the production is slightly muted. However, the genius still shines through and the impact is still the same. A great album can be one of two things - a concept album, where each song only makes sense in the context of others, or a singles album, where you think every song could be a single. With the exception of two songs here, it achieves the latter spectacularly.

It is a precious piece of work. Clearly, these four men could produce sensational music and lyrics. Yet this album, their first, was also their last for 5 years and their "Second Coming" was an almighty disappointment. Here, their minds and talents are in harmony and they have produced an album that genuinely changed people's lives. Chiming with the times is an achievement, albeit with some element of luck. With acid house and the second summer of love in full flow, they were in the right place at the right time. But what separates this album from its peers is not only it's musical diversity, intricacy and brilliance, but also it's timelessness. I only truly discovered this album in 1998, and it was the soundtrack to my own summer of love. If one album can reach across the ages (albeit a mere decade) and touch one man in the way it touched those who first heard it, then it is a piece of work that must be treasured. Because the effect it had on me, will be the same effect it has on someone else in 10 years time, 20 years time and 50 years time. It's vibrancy and message will last forever.

Summary: Always worth a revisit.