The Stone Roses: The Resurrection 

Today, I’ve decided I’d blog about something less controversial and not slate Alex Turner into next week. Today I’ve decided to write about my passion for the one and the only Stone Roses.


You see, I remember the days of sitting around at fifteen years old smoking cigarettes with a bottle of cider in my hand in a run down park screaming ‘I Wanna Be Adored’ at the top of my lungs. It’s an English tradition. However, that’s not exactly the only reason that I’d be passionate about The Stone Roses. Beyond all of the drunk nights I’ve spent as an adolescent being serenaded by Ian Brown’s mint voice is an era, an era which has refused to fuck off, an era which will never die no matter how hard modern music tries to silence it. 

The era I’m talking about is the past, the eighties, the nineties, the time when people didn’t care less what car you were driving or whether you could take them to nando’s, this was a time of simplistic living with unemployment sky high. A time where people didn’t have much joy in life beyond the realms of music, it was a way of being liberated and a way of forgetting about how corrupt the English government is and how much money they squeezed out of you. Ian Brown formed a band a way of life called The Stone Roses in 1983 consisting of himself, John Squire (guitarist), Mani (bassist) and Reni (Drummer) which revolutionised the already thriving Madchester scene which was flowing through every nook and cranny of the red bricks of Manchester. People soon came to realise that this wasn’t just any band. This was THE band.


The Stone Roses had a perfect medley of tunes which hit you in the face like a train in Piccadilly combined with a voice which physically pulled your ear drums, it was the sort of pull that couldn’t be ignored, it was the type of pull that you get after 12 jars of lager down the local pub and you see that fat bird. It was exactly that. Irresistible (well, maybe the ‘fat bird’ metaphor was a bit shit but whatever, you know what i mean man)

They gained headlines for being out there, they were the type of band to stand for the working class of Manchester, no. The country. Ian Brown saying hard hitting things in the news whilst packing out Spike Island which was hands down, the best gig that I’ve never had the chance to go to. They brought songs out which sold like the theoretical ‘hot cakes’ if I’m honest they simply conjured up a recipe to unite the people and bring them all together in one pill-fuelled place and blast them with music which hit them where it counts. The dick The heart.

They made songs about lesbians on trains, Waterfalls and even a fucking Elephant Stone. Whatever and whoever you are: you cannot deny the invigorating feeling of being overwhelmed by a band which refuse to die and their incomparable lyrics. If you’ve never heard of any of this and have spent the last five minutes reading through this post thinking ‘who are these dickheads’ then here’s one for you kid, listen to the song below and tell me you didn’t suddenly buy a bucket hat and some adidas trainers whilst feeling like taking your glow sticks down to a field.

The Stone Roses – Sally Cinnamon

Now that we’ve cleared that up and I’ve calmed down from almost waking up everybody in the house with the melody of ‘Sally Cinnamon you’re my worlddddddd’ (not that it’s the worst way to wake up) we shall now get down to the real reason anybody should be here, to see about The Stone Roses revival gigs which are taking place in just a few fucking months (yes, just a few months) I’m nearly falling out my bed in excitement writing this because fortunately I’m one of these lucky boyo’s to have a ticket to what should be, what will be the biggest concert of this year and probably this century.

But, fear not my young bucket hat head bangers- as I’m a decent lad and have a good amount of respect for you I’ve scoured the web for pretty much any place possible to get your hands on some of these tickets and well I’ve found one but you aren’t going to like the price. To be fair if I didn’t have a ticket I’d probably be throwing my money at anybody with one or trying to plot a way to scale the walls of The Etihad Stadium so I don’t think it’s a bad option. I know some of you won’t have the money which is fucking alright because who does and who’s got 1000’s to spend on a ticket for a few hours? You lot can instead buy their new album which they’re releasing around the same time and hold your own rave in your garden with a few cans of special brew.

For those who are lunatics and want to find tickets then eBay is the place to go with tickets popping up constantly for four-digit amounts so get a ticket or make your own rave, whatever suits you fellow lemon head.





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