I couldn't ever bring myself to hate you

When I was about 17 I went to work in a record shop. A marvellous way, I thought, of mixing a passion with a practical method for putting some badly needed coins in my pocket. Sadly I was wrong as the wages were pitiful and the store manager a completely joyless fascist whose idea of the heights of musical achievement was the prog rock dirge of Yes. In a word*NO! But you win some, you lose some. For some reason, however, I have always remembered the application process, and particularly a question whereby you had to name five albums you considered to be influential, and explain why.

A cunning ploy to weed out any would-be workers with a penchant for Rick Astley over Rick James I supposed, my naïve young head still filled with the notion that here was a shop that valued the tastes and musical knowledge of its staff. I revelled in the task at hand, my first attempts at justifying and explaining records I loved. And as you can see, writing about music is still something that gives me great pleasure. Whether I have improved any is a matter of debate, of course. But for this posting I find myself returning to that very first dip into the waters of critical review.

For the first record on my list, and still sitting high in my albums of prime choice, is the eponymous debut from Indie giants The Stone Roses. I don't recall what pearls of wisdom I spouted in my ill-fated application form, but suffice it to say that “The Stone Roses” released in 1989 was, and is, one of the greatest records of all time, and as such the prose that appeared was probably of a similarly gushing ilk to that which now follows. When I first wrote about this record a few brief years after it was released, to my mind it was already a classic and stood out from other offerings, even the brilliant work of fellow Mancunians the Happy Mondays, or the Las, My Blood Valentine, or any number of similar high-points in the Indie canon. It is just peerless and magical, from guitarist John Squire's virtuoso display, to the flawed vocal range yet utterly convincing iconic swagger of singer Ian Brown, and the funk of Mani and Reni's groove as backing.

From the brash confidence of the group's music, to the epic status of their sound and lyrical content, and from the nonchalant coolness of their imagery to the Squire-designed sleeve work. This album is just brilliant. Considered to be the band that really fused guitar music with the drug-induced joy of the emergent rave scene, in fact this label does them an injustice. Though clearly an influence on them collectively and culturally, the so-called rave scene and it's influence on the music is only subtly suggested, rather than explicitly evident. Rather, this is an album that harks back to bands like Love and Big Star, with a psychedelic swirl of genius on a grand scale, pop accessibility and musical brilliance, albeit soaked in the sweat of legendary Manchester nightclub The Hacienda.

Consistently rated as one of the best British albums of all time, the irony is that the Stone Roses, through record label, legal and internecine struggles, could not follow up their debut sufficiently quickly to cement their position of greatness. Follow-up “Second Coming” arrived over 5 years later, and while itself under-rated and containing some moments of brilliance, represented a band with perhaps too many pleasures up their noses, and creatively searching for a direction that never came. The moment was lost and thousands of fans still feel the pain of these missing years. As Oasis themselves asked on “Champagne Supernova” from the record-breaking “What's The Story” album and reputedly towards their fore-runners, "where were you while we were getting high?".

This from a band who surely could not have existed without the Roses let alone achieved their eminent status as kings of "Britpop", pretenders to the throne of the mythic monarchs of 90s British guitar music. And the Roses, in their own absence have assumed an almost mythic status, the curse of the what-ifs. But perhaps, as with other things in life, some things are best left unknown. Could the Stone Roses have ever matched the sublime output of their early years. Was their debut album, and uniquely fantastic single releases such as “Sally Cinnamon”, “Fool's Gold” and “One Love”, just a reflection of a moment in time when four musicians gelled in a quite inspired and inspiring burst of creativity, a moment best appreciated for what actually resulted, rather than what might have been? Probably so.

And if a band are going to burn brightly and then fade away, this album is probably the archetype of how to do it. As Ian Brown demands on the opener, "I wanna be adored". He was, and they remain so for a whole generation of fans. As for his claims that he and the band were the resurrection? Probably that too.