Not All Roses

I’m interrupting the regular Saturday Theme series this week for an account of an event I went to on Thursday night, an event which started only two hours after the announcement of the death of the Queen (which had some strange parallels that occurred to me as I walked home). Dave Haslam- DJ, writer, journalist, man abut town- has been writing a series of mini- books over the last few years, published by Confingo, an independent publishing house based in West Didsbury. The books fit in your pocket and are a quick read, more an essay than a full length book and in Dave’s words ‘tell stories that haven’t been told’. All You Need Is Dynamite deals with a terrorist cell based in Moss Side in 1971 linked to the Angry Brigade. Another deals with Sylvia Plath and the few weeks she spent in Paris in 1956. We Are The Youth tells the story of Keith Haring’s adventures in New York’s nightclub world and Searching For Love deals the truths and rumours concerning the six month period Courtney Love spent in Liverpool in the early 80s. His latest book is called Not All Roses, the life and times of Stephen Cresser aka Cressa, the man who was the fifth Stone Rose, an ever present in their live performances and photo shoots in the 1989- 90 period, where the band went from being local heroes to a phenomenon. Dave has arranged a run of A Conversation With Cressa events, one being up the road from me in Stretford at head, a bar in a former bank on the Chester Road facing side of Stretford Arndale. 

Cressa has quite the story to tell and over a series of interviews and conversations Dave pulled it together. Cressa grew up in Firswood, a mile north of Stretford and became a member of the Happy Mondays road crew, a Hacienda face, the man who danced on stage with The Roses and operated John Squire’s FX pedals. In the mid 90s he tried to get his own group- Bad Man Wagon- off the ground and failed trying (Dave said in his intro this was almost what the book was about, the band that didn’t make it whose story is as interesting as the ones that did). More recently Cressa became homeless and addicted to heroin, begging on the streets of the city centre and this is where the public conversation begins, Cressa speaking openly, honestly and passionately about the situation he got himself into. Cressa is a livewire, Dave asking questions, being the butt of the jokes at times, steering Cressa back towards the story and keeping the freewheeling conversation on track. 

Cressa talks of his first musical experiences, albums by The Stranglers, and the time in the 80s when he first encounters and becomes friends with the people who would several years later become magazine front cover stories. On scooter club runs he meets Ian Brown and John Squire and they become firm friends. At the Hacienda, at a time when a crowd of two hundred people was considered a good turn out, he meets members of Happy Mondays and starts to go with them when they play gigs outside the city, the man in the back of the van who eventually gets paid to carry amps and instruments into and out of gig venues. He speaks warmly about Derek, Shaun and Paul Ryder’s dad, the man who was the band’s one man road crew. He talks about John Squire giving Cressa the job of operating his guitar pedals, a job that seems unnecessary in many ways as most guitarists operate their pedals themselves with their feet- he thanks John for doing this and says that when it came to it there was no choice between staying with the Mondays and joining the Roses, it was The Stone Roses every time. Cressa introduces them to some of the musical influences that would hone their sound, 60s psychedelia, Jimi Hendrix, The Nazz, The Rain Parade. The three way friendship between Ian, John and Cressa comes across as the glue that held the group together in the late 80s. He then talks about how after the gig at Glasgow Green, 9th June 1990, that was it- the band stopped functioning. No more gigs, no more records for five years and Cressa suddenly out of the set up. 

As well as the heavier serious stuff- heroin addiction, homelessness, generation defining guitar bands and the way that they blew it after having it all- Cressa, emotions always close to the surface, is also witty, sparky and warm, still able to talk affectionately about the good times. He appears with The Stone Roses on Tony Wilson’s late night, north west only music programme The Other Side Of Midnight, the band’s first TV appearance with the group in their cocky prime playing Waterfall, their dreamiest moment. Cressa by this point is wearing flares, a sartorial pioneer of the bell bottomed jeans in Manchester. In the clip the rest of the group are cool as you like, looking like a 60s/ late 80s street gang, but definitely not wearing flares. Cressa is dancing behind John’s amp, doing the loose limbed rolling shoulders shuffle, his wide legged trousers hidden from view. Six months later, as Cressa grins ruefully at Head, they were all wearing them, Ian in famously 22″ bell bottomed jeans. 

There was an interview in the NME around that time, when The Roses were making their seemingly effortless ascent. In ’89 they often came across as a political band, talking about lemons as protection against CS gas as sued by riot police, the Paris riots of Mai ’68, anti- monarchical and anti- establishment. They placed great store in being against the monarchy. In the interview they talked about the ravens at the Tower Of London and the myth that if the ravens leave the tower, England would fall. Ian (or John) mentions wanting to be at the Tower, shooting the ravens. The interview then goes onto the subject of trousers and their width- in the 80s flares were a big deal, they had been so unfashionable for so long that wearing them was a statement. ‘Flares’, one of them says in the interview, ‘are as important as England falling actually’. 

Their debut album came out in early May 1989 and they toured extensively to support it, Cressa there every night, part of the gang, the man who gave them a strong part of their look, dancing away behind John Squire. When you flipped the record over, side two opened with this.

Elizabeth My Dear

And here we are, several decades later. 

Scooters, flares, homelessness, heroin, cough medicine, the Festival of The Tenth Summer, albums by The Stranglers, the Hacienda, Bez, Joe Strummer… you can find it all in the book here priced only eight pounds. 

Another former Stone Rose present at Head was Andy Couzens, another man who suddenly and unexpectedly found himself an- ex Stone Rose. Andy took his guitar and went off to form The High. I had a brief chat with him, told him how much I liked his records and said I saw The High play at Liverpool Poly in 1990, a gig he said he remembered. Talking to Dave afterwards we both mentioned the Newcastle gig on the same tour where singer John Matthews was taken ill and Cressa, by this point touring with The High, was persuaded to go onstage and fill in on vocals. The gig ended in what the NME described as a riot. They never quite got the sales to match their still wonderful sounding 1990 debut album, Somewhere Soon, a record with three shimmering guitar pop singles in Box Set Go, Up And Down and Take Your Time. This song, chiming guitars and reverb soaked vocals, is one of the period’s lost gems. 

Take Your Time

Chlorine Box

Two singles from 1990/ 1991 today, both of which I’ve posted before but neither of which I ever tire of hearing when they pop up on shuffle, in the sidebar on Youtube or when flicking through the 7″ singles box. First from 1990 The High and their calling card Box Set Go…

Box Set Go

And then to follow Chlorine Dream from Spirea X…

Chlorine Dream (album version)

Both bands married 60s melodies, chiming Rickenbackers and a shuffly early 90s beat. Both were seen as offshoots of other bigger, more fashionable bands. Both could have been much bigger than they were but never got beyond the lower end of the charts and the lesser pages of the music press. These two songs alone justify their ongoing online existences in the pages of blogs like this one.

The High were from Manchester and signed to London Records in the mad dash to gobble up Manchester guitar bands. Guitarist Andy Couzens served his time in The Stone Roses before they began to gain any kind of acclaim outside south Manchester postcodes. He left following an argument with manager Gareth Evans and Ian Brown and John Squire about songwriting credits and royalties. The High recorded with Martin Hannett shortly before his death. Their 1990 debut album, Somewhere Soon, is well revisiting- Up And Down, Take Your Time, PWA and Dreams Of Dinesh all fizz and buzz in all the right places. Follow up single More… is also a lost classic. 

Spirea X were formed by Jim Beattie, a founder member of Primal Scream and 12 string guitar slinger. Chlorine Dream was their debut followed in May 1991 by Speed Reaction. They were very much a Brian Jones/ Love, speed cut with ecstasy type of band, who signed to 4AD so had the benefit of beautiful Vaughan Oliver sleeves to go with the songs. The album Fireblade Skies is a minor 1991 treat with an obligatory Arthur Lee cover (Signed D.C.) and some very 60s in the 90s song titles- Rollercoaster, Fire And Light, Confusion In My Soul, Nothing Happened Yesterday all spell fringes, love beads, Levi’s cords and white denim jackets. 

More Mores

Three more mores. The High came out of Manchester in 1990, four men with their backgrounds in various previous groups (not least drummer Chris Goodwin who was in an early version of Inspiral Carpets and guitarist Andy Couzens who left The Stone Roses when manager Gareth Evans convinced Squire and Brown that the song writing should be credited to them alone). The High’s debut album Somewhere Soon and the singles that surrounded it were all fine fare, Byrdsian guitars, swirling 1990 rhythms and the clear voice of singer John Matthews. A year later they released More…, the lead song from a four track EP that should have taken them to the next level, it’s chiming guitars and sweet singing were ready made for the charts and some music press front covers in 1991 but it all fell apart. 

More

From a decade earlier, The Clash and the unmistakeable voice and influence of Mikey Dread on Sandinista! One More Dub is the second half of the righteous rock- reggae song One More Time with the rhythm section of Simonon and Headon proving they’ve mastered the dub swing. One More Dub closed side two of the six sides of Sandinista!, a perfectly paced, pitched and sequenced side of vinyl- Rebel Waltz is one of the group’s lesser known gems. Look Here is a bizarro world cover of Mose Allison’ modern jazz. Then comes Paul Simonon’s The Crooked Beat, his writing contribution to the album, a superb bassline and spoken/ sung vocals about South London blues parties. After that we’re into the screeching tyres and sweeping, breathless, sleek rock of Somebody Got Murdered and then the One More Time/ One More Dub double bill. 

One More Dub

On their 1994 single Sour Times, one of the stand outs from their debut album Dummy, Portishead presented three new versions of the song. Lot More opens with some scratching and a vocal sample, one phrase borrowed from a Black Sheep record, before the bassline from Lalo Schifrin’s Danube Incident kicks in and Beth Gibbons pours her heart out. There was a point in 1994 when everyone was listening to Portishead. 

Lot More