GIG NUMBER ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY-SEVEN
Who
Being out of work in October gave me the opportunity to get tickets and ultimately proved a massive blessing, as I both got to leave the most incompetent company in the world and got to attend one of the most important shows of my lifetime off the back of it, so it's funny how these things can work out. I also invested in as many Roses compilations as I could, including the beautifully packaged 20th anniversary re-release of their debut album which contained a DVD of their show in Blackpool back in 1989. I heard the songs as much as I could and this is usually quite a chore but in this case proved a pleasure, as I learned lots of b-sides and album tracks were practically as good as the big guns such as Waterfall and Resurrection. I also purchased a couple of Reni hats yet sadly one was too big and another too small, and a week or so before the show I invested in the Garage Flower compilation, meaning I now have pretty much everything except the Second Coming b-sides and some inconsequential remixes. Another key moment was when the tickets arrived as they were truly a beautiful sight to behold, and I excitedly posted a picture on Facebook - albeit with the sensitive information sensibly blacked out - and was disappointed by the lack of response. In fact I posted loads of Stone Roses related status updates and was very frustrated by the lack of interest I saw, as it demonstrated either shocking musical ignorance or an unsavoury jealousy from my friends who weren't seeing the band themselves. Also I eagerly awaited the announcement of the rest of the bill and was reasonably pleased that Beady Eye were our primary support because they had the most potential to get the crowd going like mad. Of course it all hinged on if Liam would play Oasis songs, but considering that this was an incredibly special occasion for him too I had high hopes. The support for Friday night was much more solid though, with Primal Scream playing a post-Mani slot along with the ever-excellent Vaccines. However as I'd seen them both before I wasn't too fussed about missing out, and by this time the Roses had announced quite a few more dates before reaching Heaton Park which negated our worry that Friday would be the "big comeback" show and made us more comfortable with our choice of Saturday night. Of course tickets were so hard to get hold of that we didn't have much of a choice, and also it was inevitable that the Friday show would attract most media coverage regardless, but we were just grateful to be going.
The ones I felt really sorry for were those attending on Sunday who'd have to endure Plan Fucking B as the main support, but it was still a surprise when I spotted that tickets were back on sale for the Sunday night show on Gigsandtours, as it's quite amusing to think enough people were offended by the terrible support band that they'd give up their chance to see the greatest moment in Mancunian history. I posted another status update letting everyone know that Sunday tickets were now available but was rudely ignored again, so anyone who missed out had no-one to blame but themselves! Upon studying a map of Manchester I was surprised to see that Heaton Park was so massive it was comparable in size to Manchester city centre itself. Hotel prices had inevitably shot up and it proved impossible to get anywhere near the city centre for a reasonable price. In the end we settled on a hotel in Sale after deciding that the tram journey was manageable and in theory that we could get a direct tram back from the city to the hotel after the concert. We also decided to book Friday off work and make it a bit of a weekend excursion and as the time grew closer our anticipation increased. I'm amazed to read that Reni played only one show with the Roses after their Spike Island gig - in Glasgow Green - and I believe that there were ten shows in the reunion tour before the Saturday night we'd be attending. That meant 22 years but only eleven shows with the original line-up separated this night from Spike Island, which is insane when you think that many groups could do that many shows in just two weeks! I'm surprised to read that Reni never played on the Second Coming tour but ultimately I was just too young at the time anyway, which is a shame as if I were a couple of years older I could have witnessed the band, maybe even supported by a post-Richey Manic Street Preachers at Wembley Arena in 1995, which was John Squire's last gig. I was fully aware of the historical significance of this evening and tried in vain to avoid following the news stories and setlists of their reunion dates. Of course I just couldn't escape the ecstatic reviews of their low-key comeback in Warrington and by the time Reni apparently stormed offstage in Amsterdam the eyes of the world were on the band. Things didn't look good at all and we were wondering whether to call our whole summer off - although the terrible weather was already doing its bit in that regard - so it was a relief that normal business was resumed in Sweden as Reni even donned a dreadlocked wig to make reference to Robbie Maddox - his original replacement. Throughout all this there was never any word about Cressa though! As the time grew closer dawned the realisation that barring the whole thing being called off due to last minute illness or flooding that this was actually going to happen!
On the Friday morning I somehow found time to book all my hotels in Portugal - which I'd riskily agreed for the last week in August, giving me very little time for planning - before quickly packing and eventually running out of time as I'd hoped to research potential attractions we could visit in more detail. Ultimately though I knew my way around central Manchester and had a map to the hotel so was hopeful that little could go wrong. Upon setting out it was clear that the weather wasn't going to play ball, with a bout of sunshine followed by some more rain, although the flooding that had plagued some parts of the country didn't seem to have put the Heaton Park show under any threat. Upon getting to Wolverhampton train station I was frustrated to find that my cards had randomly stopped working but thankfully I had enough cash to hand to buy my ticket there and my concern that my bank had decided to cancel my cards because I'd purchased a few more things than usual that morning came to nothing as normal service was resumed the next time I tried. Nick and I had been in lengthy discussions over when to travel as I wanted to make the most of the day seeing as we'd booked it off work and get down as early as possible. The compromise was to wander around town before heading to the hotel, with the time saved in not having to make a journey to and from Sale more than making up for the late start. Upon arriving at Manchester Piccadilly after being fortunate enough to find seats for the journey we headed straight towards the Manchester Museum, with the sun still making appearances from time to time. I'd researched if backpacks were acceptable to take in and nothing much was said so it was a relief that it posed no problem whatsoever. However as the Egyptian wing of the museum was closed it didn't take anywhere near as long as I expected, but it was gratifying to take advantage of their similarly relaxed photography policy to finally get some proper shots of a museum that was just metres away from where I'd studied. After this we were unable to access the Whitworth Hall so headed a bit further on to check out the Catholic Church, which is intriguing as it's obviously massive yet somehow doesn't feel like it. The whole student area was rather quiet because everyone had gone home for the summer and we had loads of time on our hands when we headed to Deansgate to visit The John Rylands Library.
I'd proclaimed beforehand that it was better than the cathedral and that may well be true, but the low light levels coupled with blazing sunshine through the windows made it rather difficult to get any decent photos inside. My target had been to visit the museum and library by 5pm and I was surprised to find we'd done it with plenty of time to spare and had by now lost all appetite for sightseeing anyway. Although I'd left Manchester seven years before it's incredible to come back and feel so at home, a side effect of which is to lose my desire to look around as a proper tourist would do. Nevertheless I still took hundreds of photos which took hours to sort out so it's probably for the best my interest was slightly restrained. I then continued to follow my itinerary by dragging Nick to the Cask Bar, which in fact was quite close to the metro stop and I had fond memories of visiting it in the sheet ice of January 2010. Nevertheless I'd remembered it to be ruinously expensive so didn't expect we'd hang around long. How wrong I was. The place was loaded with pre-gig Roses fans, some of whom were sporting some rather cool t-shirts including a rather amazing cartoon shot of the band. My first pint of Lowenbrau was absolutely extraordinary and once we found a nice spot in the beer garden it was clear we'd be here for a while. The jukebox was pumping out mostly Roses tracks, including the rarity that is All Across The Sands, and the bar staff were incredibly helpful in picking out interesting beers for us to try. However our stomachs were empty and we'd said all along that we didn't want to ruin the show by gaining a stinking hangover, so after a truly extraordinary pint of Maisel's Weiss and some Kwak in the proper glass we made our way towards the exit. This took considerable strength of mind but if anything could motivate us to be sensible it was the thought of what we'd be up to tomorrow night. By this point we were quite merry, pumped up even further in amusement by the fact that the plants in the beer garden were watered by a couple of beer taps of their own, and for some reason had decided to adopt The Frog Chorus as the anthem of the weekend. As the bar was very close to the Beetham Tower I captured quite a lot of photos of this fascinating modern building, and even passed the Atlas bar which Clint Boon sang about, and we were at the height of our drunkenness as we made our way by tram to Sale, sadly not discovering that we could have purchased a weekend tram pass until it was too late. Our original plan of heading to the cinema to see The Chernobyl Diaries was clearly not going to happen anymore - I caught it two weeks later - and all plans to meet up with friends in Manchester had fallen through, but we simply had no need for any added stimulation so made our way to the Amblehurst Hotel.
It was a very large place - ridiculously large considering it was behind a pub - and I was grateful I had iPod speakers to continue the Roses soundtrack before we headed back out again to see what the town of Sale had to offer. We nearly went into a pub which was playing Sally Cinnamon but quickly walked out when they followed it with a non-Roses track and it was clear that there was nothing decent to drink anyway. We then headed back towards the metro stop and through what is probably the worst town centre in England, with more charity shops than you could shake a stick at. Sale clearly had little to offer except a few nice places near the canal, including the reasonably imposing Town Hall. This was all we wanted though as there was an exceptionally large beer garden extending onto the canal with plenty of seats, as everyone else had for some reason decided to stand inside the loud and unpleasant pub. The range of beers was so mediocre that I had to resort to drinking Jeremiah Weed but this was probably for the best and the food was an excellent consolation, including an unnecessary Indian platter to start with followed by a rump steak. We pretty much spent the rest of the evening here, by now following the Roses gig on Twitter and thinking that for the first time in many years The Stone Roses were onstage in Manchester. Presumably everybody was caught up in the moment and news was slow to filter through, but Gary Neville proved a surprising source of information and once we cast our eyes over the setlist it became clear that this was going to be something extraordinary. The black cloud was still the weather forecast as it was predicted that the Saturday night would have the worst weather, but as long as it wasn't rained off I could live with it! We were very sensible in having a reasonably early night but were frustrated by the lack of air conditioning and the fact the window didn't open, which deprived us of some much-needed sleep and left us feeling a little lousy in the morning despite all our efforts. There was a slight hangover to report as well but the switch to terrible beer at the Sale pub had probably saved us. I made the brave/ridiculous choice of wearing white trousers coupled with the same walking shoes that had started to fall apart at the Field Day festival and after studying the weather forecast we decided that a Reni hat for protection from the sun wouldn't be needed. Nevertheless, many people were wearing wellingtons but I've simply never encountered any situation where enduring such discomfort seemed necessary. We started our day in traditional manner with a Wetherspoons breakfast, surprisingly having the pub almost entirely to ourselves.
Next up I'd set my heart on walking down the Bridgewater Canal upon learning that the River Mersey itself flowed right under it. This proved both a nice walk and a double dose of history as the canal itself is known as the first one ever built. I'd distinctly remembered from landing at Liverpool Airport that the Mersey quickly tails away to nothing and was surprised to see that it looked quite large and powerful and it was an added bonus to think we were amongst the few people to see the River Mersey through Manchester that morning, which presumably is the part that The Stone Roses were singing about? In complete disregard for the weather forecast the sun did come out but I wasn't out in it quite long enough to develop sunstroke, and upon realising that there was no way to get closer to the river we quickly walked on further to Stretford, grabbing a Twister ice cream then getting the metro into central Manchester, resisting the mild temptation to walk the rest of the way. Our first order of business after disembarking at St Peter's Square was to see the Town Hall but it was closed - it being a Saturday - and the sun was shining awkwardly on it, and to compound the agony a coach had rudely parked directly in front! We made our way to the centre and I was disappointed to see that the big wheel had now departed and that the National Football Museum in the Urbis wasn't going to open until next week. To rub it in our faces a bit more I'm amazed to read that it will be free entry! It's fortunate that we were in good spirits as next up a bloody bright orange cherry picker was parked in front of the prime photo opportunity of the Cathedral, but we still headed inside for a well-deserved sit down before popping outside to view the River Irwell, which is one of the well-disguised rivers that flows near central Manchester. We followed this with a longer-than-expected walk to the Transport Museum, passing the Jewish Museum which was closed as it was a Saturday, and wondering if they'd failed to signpost it before eventually stumbling across the building in a hideously run-down area. Fortunately it was just about worth the effort and £4 admission charge as it had a quite impressive collection, including a Magic Bus - retired in 2005 - of the kind that I used to see when I was a student and a really old R Bullock bus. Also there was the prototype Manchester tram, which I'd later wish they'd dragged back into service for the benefit of the gig crowds, and it was nice to have the whole place pretty much to ourselves. After wandering down Oxford Road yesterday it was sad not to see any R Bullock buses - as apparently they've been purchased by Stagecoach - or any UK North, who I'm struggling to find any information about but it seems they were withdrawn from service for safety reasons, which is worrying as I used to catch those!
Although we were doing exceptionally well for time we didn't hang around for a drink or anything and made our way outside, stopping only to check out a ruined church - St Luke's - which apparently fell into disrepair in the 1980's and has been quite comprehensively cordoned off. We didn't really fancy another long walk back and weren't quite sure what to do next so caught a bus back into the city for a complete rip-off price of £2.50! The idea was to have a drink and formulate a plan but we didn't see anything else that drew our attention so gradually edged back towards Cask Bar, which was made harder as some moronic builders had decided to seal off the road in front of Beetham Tower. We eventually got there though and I enjoyed one more pint in the beer garden before the heaven's opened and the roof was put up to help shelter us, although in such a torrential downpour we still got rather splashed. Despite having plenty of time to do another activity such as the Museum Of Science And Industry, which was just metres away from the pub, we waited for the rain to pass and remained in the pub before heading back to Sale to freshen up, purchasing some cherryade in Tesco's, although sadly there was only a sugar-free variety. Arguably Tango Cherry is not true cherryade and is rather more expensive so this made for an excellent photo opportunity in the hotel room of Reni hat and cherryade coupled with The Stone Roses ticket! Ridiculously the bottle claimed that the cherryade was in fact made from carrot and blackberries and it proved too sickly to drink for long, but drinking cherryade was something we had done several times in the build-up to the concert and it would have been wrong to not have tried any on the day itself. We found the energy to head back outside again and revisited the bar by the canal side where I was very excited to see that they had Blue Moon on tap, but my hopes were quickly dashed when they said they'd ran out. We headed back into the beer garden underneath the umbrella and it started pissing down again, just in time to destroy any precious grass remaining at Heaton Park and so badly that we almost considered going inside. The next order of business was having an early tea and as the Italian restaurant was randomly closed - especially bad as they were advertising a special afternoon offer - we made our way to the Slug And Lettuce, which was surprisingly quiet and playing yet more Stone Roses on loop.
It was incredible to think that Manchester had probably been playing Stone Roses tunes non-stop for well over six months and it's funny how when the songs are forced upon you it can become tiresome. This is partly because it's always the same few songs that get aired but also it's much more fun when you're in control of when you're listening. This is probably why people don't like loud background music and complain about large gigs, as it's not so much fun when you're not actually there and can't escape it. However it was an exciting reminder that this was The Place to see The Stone Roses and I'd made completely the right decision in insisting on coming up to Manchester, arguing that a show at the NEC in front of an ignorant Brummie crowd just wouldn't be the same, and in the event they never announced any anyway. I did consider seeing them again at V2012 but ultimately it was too much fuss to get to and it takes too long to recover from such a massive event, and the frustration of all the best bands clashing on different stages and an ignorant crowd undermining the experience put me off. There was only one place to see The Stone Roses return and it was Manchester, and I firmly believe this whole reunion has cemented their reputation as the greatest Manchester group of all time. My early tea consisted of a yucky but beautifully presented Japanese beer, along with fish and chips which had been smothered against my will with mushy peas, and we kept a close eye on the weather, witnessing another massive rain shower which made us increasingly concerned. The gates had opened at 3pm and we were hoping to miss all/most of Professor Green but by this point there simply was nothing left for us to do but to make our way to the site. We purchased a return tram ticket to Heaton Park and our trip there made us very grateful that we'd chosen to stay in Sale, although we were a bit miffed to have purchased so many tram tickets but that nobody had bothered to even check our tickets yet. The tram was already too busy when we got on to have any hope of getting a seat and by the time we reached the city centre it was clear that nobody else would be getting on, as it was fully loaded before we even reached St Peter's Square, but still more people boarded and it became truly insane. The vibe on the tram was astonishing as it was somewhat clear that everyone else was going to the same place as us, and it was a wonderful moment when everybody burst into a rendition of Sally Cinnamon! Also one person managed to sneak on at Victoria - when there was clearly no room for them to do so - and got heckled to sing us a song, but he stayed quiet and got roundly booed as a result! Sadly it all calmed down a bit apart from someone shouting that we were there a few stops before in an ingenuous but failed ploy to try and earn some breathing space for themselves. The excitement was palpable once we actually reached Heaton Park and we made our way around the perimeter as quickly as we could, passing the touts who were all wanting to buy rather than sell. By now it had stopped raining and it was a relief to encounter practically no queue to get inside and to see that there was still some grass remaining, even if it had now become more than a little squelchy!
The only support we'd missed was Hollie Cook, who apparently is the daughter of the Sex Pistol's drummer, and we made our way inside just as Professor Green was finishing, playing his biggest hit Read All About It. As far as I can gather Emeli Sande wasn't there but I'm surprised to read that Lily Allen had showed up earlier for a guest vocal, but as a music lover I can't say I'm disappointed to have missed that! We were lucky compared to the poor souls attending the Sunday show though as it would have been next to impossible to miss Plan B and to secure a good position for The Roses, and at least I only had to endure a hit from the Professor. I got slightly closer in order to take a photo and we weren't there long enough to establish if he'd gone down okay or had been bottled to within an inch of his life, with pretty much my only observation being that there was a small name banner onstage saying Professor Green. We'd timed our arrival brilliantly though as the toilet queues were surprisingly short and I decided to grab an official t-shirt for £20 featuring the John Squire Heaton Park artwork, which had been strategically modified to include the Sunday show as well as the Friday and Saturday. I joked to someone who didn't quite seem to understand what sarcasm was that it was a weeks wages for me, as my point was it was rather expensive, but as long as it doesn't fall apart I can live with the expense as it's nice to have a souvenir directly relevant to the show. I was already wearing my classic Furrymania t-shirt from 2001 but decided to don my brand new Roses top over it, which was probably for the best as I was certainly never hot. In fact I also heard that some official programmes were also on sale but didn't fancy the idea of carrying one round with me, especially considering it may just end up as a soggy mush of paper! For some reason I ventured towards the toilets, partly thinking I could get changed in there before realising how horrible it was and that it was hardly necessary to have privacy in order to put one t-shirt of top of another! We made our way through the soggy ground past the considerable number of vans selling food, stopping only to purchase a bottle of water, before realising that a cleverly hidden inner barrier was in operation which in fact was the closest to the stage I'd ever seen it. The toilets to the side of it were far, far busier and it was clear that we wouldn't be able to go again so we kept moving forwards until we found the small entrance and weren't impressed to find bouncers guarding it, seemingly with instructions to confiscate any bottles of water! It was clear that this was the place to be but the thought of throwing away the water we'd purchased for the express purpose of lasting through the show filled us with disgust and outrage. I remember reading stories of rip-off tactics at Spike Island and the band denying all knowledge so this wasn't very impressive, as either the band had no control at all or their attitude is to turn a blind eye, rake in the profits then feign outrage for their fans after the event. If I'm ever in a band I'd show some principles by refusing to play anywhere unless I can dictate all policy, including the choice of beer, food and the associated prices.
Yes, it's sad, but all bands seem to do it, and ultimately it didn't matter as I easily managed to hide the water and the bouncer either failed to do his job properly or had the decency to look the other way, perhaps being as disgusted by the profiteering strategy as we were. I guess their excuse is that the bottles may get dropped and create a health and safety issue as I certainly didn't see anything inside except plastic cups but you could make exactly the same argument about the rest of the field surely? It was a real frustration as I believe there was free tap water outside the inner barrier but ultimately I was discrete with the bottle and never encountered any more fuss from security. Upon entering the area we were awarded with a green wristband featuring the lemon logo which was dated 30th June and labelled as front pit. I removed it the morning after, which is a shame, but it was only made out of strong paper and clearly wasn't going to last very long in good condition on my wrist. Most impressive though was the fact that much of the grass in this area had been covered by that cool plastic flooring that keeps everything dry which I've seen a few times before and we gradually edged in towards the centre, figuring the further we get in the less pushing there'd be. We entered from the left side but presumably we could also have entered from the right and we were delighted to quickly secure an excellent position at the very back of the plastic covering just before it reverted to grass and just to the left of the centre. In fact in the very centre the plastic flooring went all the way to the back and we kept on edging right, ultimately finding ourselves just on the corner where it turns back to grass. As we never really got pushed back it worked out rather well, and it seemed that the inner barrier area had been shut off relatively early - presumably that's what the wristbands were for - or that the latecomers simply did not know the barrier was there. Our timing had been absolutely wonderful! It appeared that the stage had originally been covered by a full Heaton Park artwork curtain which had now been drawn back to reveal the platform but the logo was also projected on the large video screens to the left and the right, interestingly being the original logo which didn't acknowledge the Sunday show at all. The DJing was mostly indifferent, with the obvious highlight being a loud version of Thriller being played, after which we either tuned out or they turned it down as I can't remember it, although I vaguely recall that they also played a Clash song.
The Wailers then ambled onstage at around 6:30pm with the most low-key entrance ever and just started playing. This was quite representative of much of their set as they provided the very definition of background music and proved almost impossible to pay full attention to. From what I can gather they are a loose collective of Jamaicans who are mostly too young to have even met Bob Marley, but apparently their bass player Aston "Family Man" Barrett played with the man himself, which was interesting as his age was obscured by his sunglasses and hoodie and I'd presumed that the keyboard player was the only original guy, although as far as I can gather he's not! Sadly their songs just went on too long and completely failed to hold anyone's interest, although when they launched into I Shot The Sheriff I shot a video before the crowd quickly drifted off again back into indifference! One of two moderately familiar songs went down better than it deserved to but the obvious highlight for me was No Woman No Cry, which encouraged more singing and I shot a second video, but maybe the little shower around this point distracted everybody? There really is very little else I can say except they had quite a few members - including a couple of girls as backing singers - but it did make me wonder if seeing Bob Marley himself would have been equally unengaging? They sadly missed a trick by not playing Mr Brown, which is definitely their most dynamic and exciting song and could have gone down especially well on this occasion, but instead they chose to leave us five minutes early, not that anyone really noticed! Next up were Beady Eye who were scheduled to start at 7:50pm and a large black and white banner of their band name was unveiled on the stage. It's scary to think I hadn't seen Liam in action since Oasis at Leeds 2000 and my judgement of his show would be entirely based on how many Oasis songs were played. The hope was that he would be in the most crowd-pleasing mood of his life and would take a leaf out of Ian Brown's solo book and play a full, unexpected Oasis set, but with his arrogance and belief in his own songs it was hard to predict. They made a tolerable entrance with Four Letter Word before following it with b-side Beatles And Stones. One annoyance was that the video screens were out of sync throughout their entire set, making it all rather disorientating to watch from our vantage point. By this time it was clear that everyone was thinking how long he'd make us wait and he was testing our patience in playing Bring The Light, even if it may be their best song, and even more so in wasting our time with new song World Not Set In Stone. Even if it's the best song he's ever written we don't give a fuck, we just wanted classics, and Liam finally obliged with an exciting take on Rock 'N' Roll Star!
I got my camera out and shot a video which shows beers being held aloft in the air but there was no crush or moshing at all, just a massive sing-along. Liam was adopting his typical arms-behind-his-back-singing-into-the-mic pose and we were not at all impressed when he pissed away this momentum by then playing THREE Beady Eye songs in a row, starting with The Roller. The reaction was very muted and presumably it's only out of regard for his past exploits that the crowd resisted booing and bottling Liam offstage, plus of course the hope that he'd break into a run of Oasis hits soon if we were polite enough! Quite a few beers were thrown in the air by some of the crowd - and it's a shame that such a good band have such a large percentage of fans who are complete wankers - but fortunately it didn't impinge on our enjoyment thanks to the crowd-calming effect of the secondary barrier and as we were standing sensibly far back from the chaos of the moshpit. One bottle seemed to make its way towards Liam onstage and he stopped to mumble something we simply couldn't understand - presumably threatening to walk off if it happened again - before continuing with the show. Liam then teased us further as the band launched into a song that clearly everyone was excited about, but it wasn't until he started singing that I realised it was Morning Glory! Everyone sung it back louder than is decent for a support band and it was especially wonderful as Oasis hadn't played this when I'd seen them and it clearly had become a late-era Oasis live favourite. However all this goodwill was destroyed by an unforgivable decision to follow Morning Glory with Sons Of The Stage, which apparently is a song by World Of Twist which Beady Eye had covered as a b-side. Nobody was at all impressed that the momentum had been wilfully destroyed again, and despite the fact that they had a good few minutes of set-time left to make it up to us Liam left the stage to mingle with the crowd and presumably shake hands for a finale and seemingly never came back, most likely making an exit from a side door. I recall he also said that he hoped we'd enjoy watching the "best band in the fucking world" but Liam Gallagher had utterly failed in his duty to warm us up with a crowd-pleasing set of hits, arguably making it worse by teasing us with classics then reverting immediately back to Beady Eye b-sides. The best thing I can say was that the sun came out towards the end which made for some better photos, and it's a shame that NME didn't have the guts to slam Liam's self-indulgence or to acknowledge the air of disappointment when reviewing this, preferring instead to suck up, as when Liam said he'd play Oasis "songs" to then just do two to make that statement technically true just isn't good enough.
Nevertheless, if tonight was to prove one thing it was that The Stone Roses are a greater band than Oasis ever were and everyone was too excited by the thought of what was next to let this underwhelming support slot be anything more than a momentary annoyance. It's especially incredible to think that The Stone Roses are this good despite the fact they only sustained their brilliance for one album and a handful of singles either side of it, but I guess it goes to show that their debut was voted the greatest album ever made for good reason. One of the guys near us was clearly on some rather strong drugs and looked to be barely with it but he seemed quite mellow and no threat to anyone but himself, although why anyone would want to ruin such a special experience by being too drunk/drugged to remember it is completely beyond me. I can't think of anywhere worse to get drunk than a crowded field where it isn't even practical to go to the toilets at short notice, and if anyone needed any added stimulation to help them enjoy The Stone Roses then I'd suggest there is something wrong with them! The stage was now being set up for What The World Is Waiting For as Reni's drum kit was wheeled out, graced with a rather cool lemon motif which my camera struggled and ultimately failed to get a decent shot of. The soundcheck featured some exceptionally loud guitar and I also remember that they played the utterly excellent (Your Love Keeps Lifting Me) Higher And Higher by Jackie Wilson. The Roses were due onstage at 9:10pm and as I recall they were reasonably punctual although the sun was well on its way to setting before the show got underway. By this time it dawned on everyone that this was it, it was actually going to happen, and in a very short time we'd be watching The Stone Roses onstage in Manchester! The band appeared to a heroes welcome and launched into the teasing intro of I Wanna Be Adored, which wasn't drawn out quite as much as I'd expected but everybody would probably have exploded if they'd made us wait a second longer anyway. By the time Ian started singing he was completely drowned out by everyone else - myself included - and the question of whether his voice was on form was utterly redundant as we simply couldn't hear it over our own! The sheer excitement of seeing the four guys onstage together, opening as they should do with Adored, made this the highlight of the whole evening and not even an unnecessary jam at the end of the song was enough to take away the importance of the moment. Of course the second the band took to the stage it started to rain but thankfully it calmed down quite quickly and I was so engrossed in the moment that the thought of filming it was very far from my mind. The start may have been lacking a striking image such as the Spike Island inflatable globe but the sheer scale of the crowd singing I Wanna Be Adored was surely greater than anything the band ever mustered in their heyday. After studying the DVD of their "legendary" 1989 performance in Blackpool I have no doubt whatsoever in saying that this was clearly was a much greater moment, and everyone knows that Spike Island wasn't much cop musically, as much of an "event" as it may have been.
The traditional way to continue would be with She Bangs The Drums but I've never rated it much and I was much happier to hear Mersey Paradise, which was absolutely overwhelming and delivered with utterly perfect pacing and that classic sound completely intact. Ian strolled to the sides of the stage to try and engage everyone but there really was no need. We were already sold and couldn't quite believe that this masterpiece was a mere b-side. I heard some talk of sound problems but presumably people were talking about the other nights as it sounded wondrous to me, with (Song For My) Sugar Spun Sister dwarfed by the might of Sally Cinnamon, which is quite possibly their greatest ever song. The shout of "you taste of Cherryade" wasn't quite as loud as I'd expected to hear but it was still a highlight, and I just hope that they release a DVD as soon as possible so we can relive the excitement again and again. Where Angels Play is a lovely song and was segued into Shoot You Down as it should be, but one of the surprises of the night was just how wonderful Bye Bye Badman was. Admittedly it was largely because a bright red flare was lit in front of us, making me wonder what it felt like to be the guy standing right next to it, but it was still a stunning tune that demonstrated just how strong that debut album is, and it's outrageous that the band left it out of quite a few of their festival setlists. Also I believe this was the point where memorable lemon-themed video footage was adopted and I'd now started to take a lot of photos, before taking my only video of the main event during Ten Storey Love Song. The band wisely kept Second Coming tracks to an absolute minimum and it worked wonders because the two they played were amongst the highlights of the evening and made me want to go back and hear the rest again. Ten Storey Love Song was especially stunning and provoked a massive sing-along, including from myself as I made the mistake of singing almost directly into the camera, completely drowning out Ian Brown. Whoops. Throughout all of this there was surprisingly little pushing and the vibe was positive, with everyone too intent on enjoying the experience to possibly take offence at anything. However the mid-point of the set was unarguably the weakest link, and why the band bother to make room for their b-side Standing Here is beyond me. Yes, the stunning video imagery they used during it was amazing, and I believe it was during this song I shot the photo that appears above, and also it was highly amusing how our eyes seemed to turn to John Squire when Ian sang "I'm in heaven when you smile" as it simply wasn't going to happen, although I swear I caught a full-on smile earlier in the set!
John just quietly got on with it and Ian Brown showed little sign of nerves, but it was interesting to watch Mani, as usually he's the brash joker but when he appeared on the video screen it appeared he was completely terrified by the whole occasion! Perhaps he was just trying very hard to play well and live up to the legacy, but it's strange as he's had much more recent experience of massive crowds than Reni or John. During Standing Here he donned an exceptionally bright guitar, and it may have been the light reflecting off it, along with the fact that the sun was now fully down, that meant the quality of photos I was taking greatly improved. Also the video screens strangely seemed to change, because at first there was only one thin strip but this seemed to double up (as in the shot above) before coming together to create one massive image. I didn't even see them moving around so it must have been happening slowly or we were all engrossed, but I was exceptionally impressed to see the band utilising screens facing sideways as well so that those far to the side could see what was going on as well. During the set-up I was wondering what they were doing there but now I'm sold that it's an excellent idea. One Stone Roses song that I will never, ever rate highly is Fools Gold because it simply is far from being their best yet is often treated like their indisputable masterpiece. Nevertheless the band made the most of it with a reasonably mixed-up version which featured some excellent lasers and even a snippet of Day Tripper towards the end! It also showcased just what an excellent drummer Reni is and we were even more excited when he switched from his bandana to the proper classic Reni hat, although less people in the crowd were wearing one than I'd expected. It was interesting as the audience didn't go as mad to Fool's Gold as I'd expected, perhaps suggesting that the real fans understand it's not their best either, but the unarguable low point of the evening then followed with the adequate yet completely unnecessary Something's Burning. This would be a good time to point out that the band chose to leave Elephant Stone and The Hardest Thing In The World out of the mix - and as far as I can gather they haven't played them at all since they reformed - yet with such a strong set it seems wrong to criticise them too strongly. However it simply makes no sense that they always find room for Something's Burning - for the festival shows they actually seem to be dropping other songs instead - and let two masterpieces we'd all rather hear fall by the wayside. Perhaps the main reason this was frustrating is to think how close they were to playing a perfect set. Also this may be the time to mention that, despite their claims of being well on the way to recording a new album, that no new songs were aired. This is a decision that I heartily agree with as, even though I'd be more interested to hear Stone Roses new tracks than perhaps any other group, tonight was about celebrating their legacy and cementing their place in musical history. It would be nice if they'd sneak out a new album around Christmas before doing another world tour next year, this time with a more forward-thinking setlist after giving us time to fall in love with the new songs and to genuinely want to hear them. I hope the guys are taking notes here, maybe Liam Gallagher should too!
Nevertheless there was no messing around when it came to the home straight, and Waterfall proved why it is The Stone Roses finest four minute pop song, putting She Bangs The Drums firmly in its place! Although I've warmed more towards Sally Cinnamon in recent months I was dismayed that an NME poll asking what songs people wanted to hear failed to include Waterfall, but perhaps it only really makes sense when followed by Don't Stop, which proved one of the most extraordinary live moments of my life. It's something I've always thought of as a studio-only experiment so the fact that the band were capable of bringing it to life was an incredible testament to their skill as musicians and it was highly amusing that the ever-ignorant Joey Barton demonstrated his foolishness by asking his Twitter followers why The Stone Roses were playing Waterfall backwards. This was followed by Love Spreads, which the band had wrongly decided to open with at a few of their comeback dates. It worked much better buried in the second half of the set where it belongs, allowing us to admire its anthemic status and intricacy as it again tricked us into believing that the best songs came from that second album! I've never rated it that highly yet will always admire Made Of Stone, but it was greeted by an absolutely crazed reception tonight with an utterly epic sing-along. One thing the evening missed was the chant of "Manchester la la la" or "Ian Brown" to the tune of "here we go" but at around this point Ian took off his leather jacket to unveil a black t-shirt with an awesome green logo around the neck, like a clever inversion of the classic white t-shirt with dollar notes which he wore in his heyday, which presumably has long since disintegrated. It may have been around this point where a second flare was let off - although apparently quite a few more were unleashed behind us not that we paid any mind to what was going on behind - and the band then launched into This Is The One, which didn't go down quite as well as Made Of Stone but for me will always be a much stronger anthem. I can't recall anything of note about She Bangs The Drums but I presume it went down well and the band strangely decided their penultimate tune was going to be Elizabeth My Dear. Although there is something admirable in sticking to your guns - and arguably not changing your mind can be a sign that you were right in the first place - but Ian Brown should really give his monarchy-bashing a rest. The Queen is possibly the most admired person in Britain, especially in her Diamond Jubilee year, and in an era of corrupt bankers and politicians she is the last person that anyone's venom should be aimed at. If you've got a problem with unelected people ruling over you wouldn't David Cameron or Gordon Brown - neither of whom won elections - be a more legitimate target of your criticism, especially as they hold true power?
I've got to hand it to the crowd though that they maintained a dignified hush rather than blindly agreeing with Ian Brown's anti-monarchist sentiment and I guess one preachy song that clocks in at under one minute is far preferable to hearing Bono bleating on about global warming for three hours, or whatever it is he does! Also you can probably forgive any band when you know that they're about to play I Am The Resurrection, completing the task of having sung every single song off the debut album. Up to this point we'd sung a lot but I finally embraced some proper moshing - which was admittedly harder on the slippery plastic surface - and there was the briefest hint of pushing and shoving, which was far more genteel then you would expect considering the band and the city. The song is so stunningly awesome in the first place that all the guys have to do is recreate it competently as there simply isn't anywhere better to take it. Apart from that lull in the middle the set had been amazing and the only problem was that we were so spoiled that practically the whole thing was a highlight, making it harder to pick out specific moments, especially as we were all singing so hard we couldn't hear Ian anyway. After drawing the epic song to a close the band indulged in a bout of sincere hugging before taking to the front of the stage to recreate their awesome arms-aloft-in-triumph-while-standing-on-a-mountain pose. NME reproduced this image as a poster which I now proudly have on my wall and it simply was the best way possible that four guys can finish a live show without resorting to some clever gimmick. Ian and Reni hung around the stage a bit longer and shared a few more hugs and it seemed clear that the Amsterdam moment was firmly behind them and that Ian no longer considered Reni to be a cunt! There was no encore but what would have been the point, and the band finished in time for the 11pm curfew. We all turned around and faced the right to watch a reasonable fireworks display, which almost felt like a cunning ploy to distract our attention from the stage, and by the time we turned round again the stage had been turned into a public information service, with a sign pointing us left for buses and right for the trams or to walk. We stuck to our guns, ignoring the advice that trams would be very overcrowded, and made our way out, quickly getting caught in a bottleneck and making our way closer to the stage before breaking through and escaping.
Unfortunately we had to follow the crowd for quite a while and at one point the mud became utterly ridiculous, but fortunately my shoes remained on my feet and it was a relief to finally set foot on the concrete road outside. Dodgy t-shirts were on sale for just £5 outside - just like in the good old days - but we made our way towards the Bowker Vale metro stop as instructed because some bright spark had decided that the solution to the overcrowding problem was to close Heaton Park station! We resisted the temptation to stop for food and drink and joined the insane queue outside the metro station, which moved acceptably fast at first as special trams were being shuttled between the city and the gig. However once it hit midnight the trams suddenly stopped coming, which wasn't very impressive at all considering they were supposed to keep on running, and the queue started to move far slower, with some trams going past with inexcusable "out of service" signs on them or travelling in the wrong direction. It was disgusting that the drivers didn't seem to be committing to one iota of overtime when they had a duty to keep services running at maximum frequency until the crowds are cleared, and I dread to think how long those behind us had to wait before getting out. Also the utter lack of any live departure boards on the network explaining what was going on - or even where the trams were going - wasn't very helpful at all. The worst part was that we'd just attended one of the greatest gigs of our lives and wanted to spend the time basking in the memory, not enduring a long and miserable journey back to the hotel. Eventually we boarded an express tram to Manchester Victoria which they didn't even bother filling up to capacity but it was nice to get back into the city, and then we continued to Cornbrook where the timetable advised us that the last tram to Altrincham had been due just a couple of minutes before. We were again taunted by the desperate lack of staff or any kind of live information and the trams rubbed it in a bit further by running two services to St Werburgh's Road long after the last-advertised time along with some more out of service trams which were no doubt returning to a depot in Altrincham! After waiting for a while though we gave up and decided it would be easier to make our own way back, heading outside the station to find that the road to Sale randomly didn't have any pavement, before finally having a stroke of luck in managing to hail a taxi which presumably was heading back into the city centre for more custom.
Although the taxi went at a fair pace it took quite a while to get back to Sale, making us grateful that we didn't attempt to walk it. In fact we may well have got back quicker if we'd just walked back to the centre from the show then got a taxi but at least this way we expended less energy. Perhaps the bus would have been the wiser choice, and we had indeed seen a sign at Piccadilly station advising that we could get it for £10 return, but if they'd simply continued running a proper tram service after midnight we'd had easily caught the last one to Altrincham anyway. It's just fortunate that the curfew wasn't at 11:45pm as another source had indicated, and who knows what the chaos was like on Sunday where presumably the services finished even earlier! Upon getting back I grabbed a chicken variety meal which I struggled to eat while walking, managing to get the first stain on my new t-shirt before finishing the food off in the hotel. Even though it must have been around 2am the hotel bar was still quite lively and it was clear that we weren't the only ones who'd attended the show. Indeed the next day I saw a cherryade-stained cup lying around outside the room! Once again we didn't sleep too well but at least the room was cooler, and the advantage of waking up early was that we managed to get my first possible train home, arriving back at an impressive 11am without even stopping for any breakfast. Not one single ignoramus complimented me on my awesome t-shirt on the way back though! After going to great lengths to be sensible I was not at all impressed that my body decided to punish me for being active and exposed to the mild cold by making me ill for the entire fucking week that followed but at least I was sufficiently well on the Sunday to write some fairly comprehensive notes and to watch Spain trash Italy in the Euro 2012 final. I'm surprised to read that The Stone Roses played exactly the same setlist all three nights running and apparently our night was better as the band were a bit nervous on the Friday, and surely Sunday was worse due to the awful support. The thought of being at the best Stone Roses gig of all time was certainly very exciting and overall it probably lived up to the ridiculous hype we gave it, with the lack of Elephant Stone, badly organised transport and a poor effort from Beady Eye being the main downers. It took quite an effort to clean my shoes and I suppose it was inevitable that the mud stains would not come out of my white trousers but it was all worth it in the end. The Stone Roses had cemented their place in history as the greatest Manchester band of all time, and it is impossible to exaggerate the excitement and historical importance of this event. I just feel sorry for those who weren't there.
Mark: 9.5/10
The Stone Roses
Support
Beady Eye
The Wailers
Professor Green
Where
Manchester Heaton Park
When
30th June 2012
Price
£55.00
Who with
Nick
Position
Towards the front
Comments
And, at long last, this is the one! Arguably this was the most eagerly anticipated gig of all time, with NME even being excited enough to proclaim it the gig of the Millennium. Personally the only comparison I can give to the months of awaiting the show and state of sustained anticipation would be Macca back in 2008, which itself was a homecoming event. Yet somehow I probably felt even more excited by this one, which is ridiculous really as The Stone Roses are hardly as great as The Beatles, although perhaps the difference was in knowing that this was the full, original line-up as opposed to just the most famous member playing loads of the hits, similar to what Ian Brown was doing in his later solo shows. Strangely enough I never felt any desperate urge to see that, and the fact that this reunion finally happened more than made up for missing out. The closest I'd come to seeing The Stone Roses before this was watching their three tribute bands in Manchester - The Complete Stone Roses, The Clone Roses and Fools Gold - plus that brief moment in 2001 when Ian Brown had played a snippet of Fools Gold to us at Manchester Apollo. I'd also been at the Love With Arthur Lee gig in 2005 where all The Roses - barring Ian Brown - had got back together to watch the great man, although I'd only found out about that happening afterwards, and I had seen Primal Scream with Mani four times. I'd also seen Ian Brown playing solo three times and after over four years of living in Manchester I understood just what a seismic event this was. The fact that they would be playing over three nights to 70,000 people at a time in no way diluted the sense of occasion, if anything it increased it by demonstrating what a big deal their reunion was, especially considering that these were the fastest selling shows in English history. Their press conference way back in October - which I covered in my Miles Kane review - grabbed everyone's attention and even though I was quite late in becoming a fan - circa 2001 - in an old list on this website I rated The Stone Roses as #4 act in the world I'd like to see who were no longer performing, behind The Beatles, The Beach Boys and Michael Jackson. This was quite a declaration as The Beach Boys and The Beatles are the two most significant bands of all time and Michael Jackson the greatest solo artist, so it just goes to show how highly I rated them, even before the hype machine commenced. Sadly my big chance to see Michael Jackson was snatched away by his death and I'm still waiting for The Beach Boys to announce some sensibly timed dates, albeit knowing it won't be the same without Dennis and Carl, whereas I've grown to accept that a full Beatles reunion is looking increasingly unlikely.
Setlist (Beady Eye)
Four Letter Word
Beatles And Stones
Bring The Light
World Not Set In Stone
Rock 'N' Roll Star
The Roller
Standing On The Edge Of The Noise
Wigwam
Morning Glory
Sons Of The Stage
Setlist (The Stone Roses)
I Wanna Be Adored
Mersey Paradise
(Song For My) Sugar Spun Sister
Sally Cinnamon
Where Angels Play
Shoot You Down
Bye Bye Badman
Ten Storey Love Song
Standing Here
Fools Gold
Something's Burning
Waterfall
Don't Stop
Love Spreads
Made Of Stone
This Is The One
She Bangs The Drums
Elizabeth My Dear
I Am The Resurrection
