The resurrection of seminal Manchester pop group the Stone Roses

I love the Stone Roses. I have done ever since I started listening to their Greatest Hits on the bus on my way to work in an ice cream parlour in Vancouver. In fact I would go as far to say they are my favourite band (along with Oasis and the Beatles). And last week I came a step closer to fulfilling the dream of seeing them play live.

Music doesn’t excite me as much as it used to. It’s sad isn’t it? I think it’s part of getting older. You worry about money, your job, your girlfriend and your ever expanding waste line not helped by that gym you never go too.

I remember counting the days to seeing the Stereophonics at Donnigton Park. I remember creating a mix CD with the best tracks from my first V festival. And I remember my friends and me getting up at the crack of dawn to try and secure Oasis tickets the moment they were released.

Back then, gigs (I always call them concerts, but the sounds a bit Peter Gabriel now) would stay with me for weeks. I would remember the set-list. The words of the front men would go round my head for days. And I would try to learn the songs I heard on the guitar.

But it’s not like that any more. I rarely go to gigs. And even when I do, they don’t stay with me in the same way. The last time I saw Oasis is far less memorable than the first time, even though it was about 8 years later.

The reunion

So, the reunion of the Stone Roses has been refreshing. I first read the rumour in the Daily Mirror on about page 30. But couldn’t quite believe it. Even in the most recent interview I read with John Squire he said he had met Ian Brown for the first time at Mani’s mum’s funeral but was still retired from music and focusing on art. They had all ruled it out for years – “not in this lifetime”.

But by the Tuesday the rumour was too big. I couldn’t wait to see the press conference. What would they look like? What would the chemistry be like? Where has the drummer been all this time?

When I got home in the evening I watched it on YouTube. All 25 minutes of it. They didn’t give much away. But it was worth it for when Ian Brown said: “We’ll do it like last time. We’ll ride it until the wheels come off….and they did, didn’t they?” and when he asked the Daily Mail reporter if he voted Tory.

Getting a ticket was a no-brainer. The anticipation leading up to Friday was intense. I knew I was up against all of Manchester.

The day came. I sat at my desk pretending to work, but was really poised and ready for the tickets being released at 9:30am. As soon as the clock struck 9:29am, I frantically opened up all of the ticket selling websites and started pressing refresh as they literally broke under the demand.

You would have thought they would have figured that problem out by now. After 15 minutes of constant refreshing, my will was broken. They were sold out. Disaster. Disappointment. It was like Knebworth 1996, when I had to go on holiday in Italy instead of go to Oasis’s biggest ever gig.

But unlike Knebworth, this story has a happy ending. I had another look just after 10am. And another date had been added. Without thinking I bought two tickets and this time the website worked. When the confirmation came through on my phone 24 hours later, I gave it a goal scoring fist pump and “YES!”. Stone Roses. Heaton Park. Here I come.