When the Roses hinted earlier this week that they may be getting back together, I called bullshit.  I’d heard it all before, and in the past, it’d always been some overly eager shithead reporter who forcibly mangled a quote out of one of the former members and twisted the shit out of it to suggest that a reunion might be in the works.  Why should this be any different – I’ll believe when I see it was what I thought.

Then came the press conference.  This was real.  This is really happening.  This is happening now.  John Squire will put down his plaster and paintbrushes and pick up his Gretsch Country Gentleman again.  Mani will walk away from Bobby Gillespie and company for a bit.  Ian Brown will need to stop making shit records and start tapping on bongos on stage again.  And Reni… dear old Reni… Reni will quit his job as night manager at a BP station and sit on that throne again.

Some people will cry at this tour.  People will scream.  People will lose their minds.  People who haven’t so much as gotten a contact high in the last 10 years will be doing massive amounts of drugs at these shows.  Some people will feel some sense of redemption.  And some people will get proper closure on this band’s bullshit break up in the ‘90s.

But hang on… wait one fucking second here.

Should I really be getting this pumped about this reunion?  Where the fuck have you guys been the last 15 years?  Why get the band back together?  Why now?

Just look at this incredibly douchey press photo I nicked off the interweb yesterday.  Do you really buy the idea that these four guys really want to spend several months on the road together after being apart and hating each other for 15 years?  It’s like the most forced press photo since Chaz Bono took off  her his shirt to show her his freakishly fat and mutilated torso.


Who really needs this reunion now?

Ian Brown cranked out some decent albums when he first went solo.  I fucking loved his first three albums.  “F.E.A.R.” will always be one of his most brilliant (albeit, terribly commercial) songs.  But everything since then has been a lot of shite.  You just want to punch him and tell him, “Listen, if you’re not gonna try, then don’t make the rest of us listen to your crap.”

John Squire said something a few years back to the effect of being done as a musician.  He was an artist now.  He was pumping out contemporary art like there was no tomorrow.  Had showings in galleries and museums and all the shit.  Which, for me, was quite frankly a complete waste of talent.  I believed Squire was the heir apparent to Jimmy Page.  Most folks hate the Roses’ second album for that.  I fucking love it for that reason.  I loved that he went mental on the guitar work (suck it, haters).  Then it seemed like the talent quickly drained away.  His subsequent bands – The Seahorses, his solo albums (OMG, the groaning!) – weren’t terribly interesting.  Then it was Squire The Artist.  And now I’m supposed to believe that Squire The Guitar God is back?

I was talking this over with a friend last night, and of Mani, he agreed, “I don’t understand what’s in it for Mani – he’s got a better band to play with now!”  And he’s right.  The genius of Primal Scream’s Vanishing Point, XTMNTR, and Evil Heat had to have come from Mani’s monstrous bass work.  No Mani, no Kowalski, no Kill All Hippies.

The one who needs this the most has to be Reni, hasn’t it.  I feel bad for Reni.  Pound for pound, Reni was the single-most talented member of the Stone Roses.  For me, I genuinely believe he’s the greatest drummer alive today (Rush fans, you can all fuck off for free).  Reni was – is? – simply brilliant.  When the band go back on tour, I want to see Reni more than anyone else.

This is classic “I want what I cannot have, but now that I can have it, I don’t really want it anymore.”  Perhaps I’ve overthought this, but I like the idea of the Stone Roses much more than the actual reality of seeing the Stone Roses back together again.  But then again, the idea of the Stone Roses seems to be about comebacks.  This is a band that was seemingly obsessed with comebacks (“I Am The Resurrection”, “Second Coming”).  Might as well have called the band “Jesus Complex.”

But I am also a person who rates this band as one of the top 3 most influential bands of all time and I never got to see them live back in the day.  I wasn’t at the famed Spike Island show.  So when you get a second chance – a Second Coming! – at seeing a band this influential to you, you tuck away your cynicism, buy the ticket and lose your mind at the show.  While wearing a bucket hat.