Turns Into Stone. The Stone Roses.
1992, Silvertone. Producers: John Leckie; Peter Hook.
IN A NUTSHELL: From sixties-sounding psychedelic pop to hypnotic dance grooves, Manchester’s The Stone Roses pump out gem after gem in this collection of singles and B-sides from the band’s early years. Guitarist John Squire is masterful, drummer Reni conjures sick beats and sweet harmonies, and the band is in top form throughout – except for a couple duds.
“We’ve got to have rules and obey them. After all, we’re not savages.”
– Jack, Lord of the Flies
“Can’t crow before I’m outta the woods, but there’s exceptions to the rule.”
– “Diamond” David Lee Roth, “Little Guitars”
On the whole, in my life, I’ve been a pretty fastidious rule-follower. My parents were rule-followers, and they taught their children to be rule-followers. This helped my sisters and me grow into conscientious and respectful adults, however, only after several years as boring teenagers. We’ve come to understand, I believe, that rules often have gray areas, subtleties and complexities that make following all of them all the time rather difficult. However, this hasn’t prevented our default rule-worship outlook to seep into conversations between us as adults from time to time, such as the following exchange from a few years back:
ME: This show I’m in is actually making a little money now! I’ve gotten a little bit of pay, a few bucks a night – not enough that I’d declare it on my taxes, but still something.
SISTER (who had just become a CPA): I need to stop you right there. Don’t tell me anything else about this. As a CPA, if I hear of any wrong-doing or attempts to evade taxes, I am obliged to report that information to the IRS.
I was the type of kid who found it frustrating and upsetting that kids around me either couldn’t or didn’t care to follow the rules.
“Please take one handout, and pass it to your left,” a teacher might say, and I’d dutifully do so. Meanwhile, it seemed like everyone around me was asking, “What’s this for? How many do I take? I don’t want this big stack of papers!!” They’d talk while directions were given, goof off while they were supposed to do something, then interrupt the whole class because they hadn’t paid attention. I couldn’t wait to become an adult, when (I assumed) everyone would follow directions like they’re supposed to.
Then, at the first meeting I attended as a young professional, the entire handout scene above was repeated, but only with grown-ups this time.
My mom didn’t have a lot of rules, or methods for enforcing rules, but she had a lot of expectations. What I mean is, we didn’t have chore charts, or swear jars, or rewards for good grades. My sisters and I were simply expected to help out when asked, to not swear and to get good grades.
Now that I’m a dad, I have no idea how she pulled this off! My kids have rebelled against every family directive, battled every parental edict, and presented complex foundational and procedural arguments challenging both the internal family logic and the standing in the greater society of each and every rule my wife and I have crafted. It has been exhausting.
When I reflect on these parental challenges, I wonder if we made a mistake in not spanking our kids. (Continuously.) My sisters and I weren’t spanked often, but it happened enough times in our young childhood that it did what spanking proponents advise it does: it made us stay in line so that it didn’t happen again. It was the classic deterrent. In my family, it wasn’t called “spanking,” which sounded fancy to my ears, the kind of thing kids with butlers would get. It was called “paddling,” even though it was always delivered with an open hand, never an implement. (My mom liked to threaten us with a wooden mixing spoon that was extra terrifying because it had been stained with red food coloring, earning it the nickname “The Bloody Wooden Spoon,” a nickname my mom detests to this day because threaten as she did, she never really walloped us with it – that I can remember.)
The discipline led to a pretty strong rule-abiding streak through high school. It’s what kept me from joining most other high schoolers at parties where alcohol flowed. Well, that and the fact that I had no friends. But mainly, it was the rules thing. A fondness for rules is also a big reason I consider myself a punk rock poser, despite my experiences with a rock band.
My rule-questioning really only began in earnest when I made the decision to move to San Francisco, which seemed pretty outside-the-rules to me when I did it. It was in San Francisco that I met a woman who at first seemed to be breaking every rule in her path – or at least significantly questioning them. She wasn’t dishonest, and she wasn’t an anarchist, but if there were rules that made no sense she had no qualms about ignoring them. Sure I’d driven over the speed limit and jay-walked a few times, but this woman was the first person who ever made me think about where rules come from, and who it is that is making them and what they mean to me. Her rule-questioning impressed me so much that I ended up marrying her!
Eventually we found ourselves raising two kids, a scenario that elicited the question: how do we go about instilling a healthy understanding of rules to them? Well, I jokingly said above that we should’ve spanked our kids, but I don’t really believe that. We didn’t spank, and my reasoning was always, “I’d never hit anybody else, why would I hit these little beings that I love? (Even when they are huge pains in the ass. Which they can be, let’s not kid ourselves.)” And I think the evidence has backed us up on that decision.
We’ve bought into the late 20th/early 21st century parenting strategy of “consequences.” Of course, this strategy is much easier to implement when you have a two year old who you can outwit, and whose temper tantrum will last 15 minutes until she gets bored and starts drawing or playing with her dolls. It’s orders of magnitude more challenging when you have a 17 year old with car keys who typically goes to bed two hours later than you do.
We’ve tried to have rules that are consistent with who we are as people. For example, my wife and I have a tendency to swear – perhaps a lot, who am I to say?? But anyway, I don’t believe that words are “good” or “bad,” but rather “appropriate” or “inappropriate.” We’ve instilled in our kids that they can use any words they want, but they’d better be sure what’s acceptable when they use those words. I’ve always said, “I don’t care if you swear, but your teachers do. I’m not going to tell the teacher ‘My kid’s allowed to swear.’ I’m going to take the teacher’s side.”
So, anyway, my kids haven’t (yet) gotten into serious trouble. They’ve been able to follow enough of the rules around them that we get good reports about their behavior from the schools, their friends’ parents, coaches, etc. They have a lot of time ahead of them, so they might fuck up someday, but so far it’s been good. I think they have a healthier attitude about, and less stress related to, rules than I did as a teen ager.
I bring all this up because there was a time in my life when – in each and every situation involving them – I would have thought, “rules are rules, and darn it – I just have to follow them!” And at that point in my life, Turns Into Stone would not be found on this list of favorite 100 albums. You see, the rules I established years (!) ago plainly state “compilation albums are ineligible.”
Now, it is true that I’ve already had a compilation album on the list, Pizzicato Five’s Made in USA. HOWEVER – I didn’t know that it was a compilation album until I started writing about the record! At that point, my rules committee got together, and after several days of careful consideration they reached the conclusion that because of my lack of knowledge at the time of compiling the list, an exemption would be granted allowing the inclusion of the record. This is not unlike the time I was on the game show Jeopardy!, and in answering a question about a Gene Kelly movie, I said “American in Paris,” and Alex Trebek, douchebag that he is, went to the judges for clarification that indeed, this was an acceptable response for a movie titled An (emphasis mine) American in Paris.
In the case of Turns Into Stone, I am fully aware that it is a compilation album, and I DON’T CARE! TAKE THAT, Alex Trebek and your dumb judges!!!
See? I don’t care about the rules! But before you think I’m just an out-of-control Anarcho-Syndacalist with no regard for a decent societal structure, I’d like to offer a bit of reasoning. The Stone Roses, you see, signed two EXTREMELY BAD contracts as a young band in the late 80s. One was with their svengali-manager, Gareth Evans, a bombastic blowhard who’d fit perfectly as that idiotic, bigoted man-baby Donald Drumpf’s running mate. Evans, in turn, signed a contract with Silvertone Records that was so bad that a UK court eventually voided it. During the time that this court case was running its course, the band was precluded from recording any new material. The band’s first record had been a huge success in the UK (and a big hit on US college radio), so Silvertone Records wanted to capitalize on the success. They compiled several of the band’s singles – songs that never appeared on any other album – and released it as Turns Into Stone.
The fact that none of these songs appeared on any other album is what I like to call a “mitigating factor,” and so I have no qualms about including it. My rules committee, however, was furious about it, and even held an emergency meeting to consider its options. I testified at the meeting and stated plainly that even if they ruled against me, they’d still be left with the problem of STOPPING ME from including it! They did rule against me, and when I announced my decision to include the record despite their ruling, several members of the committee resigned in disgust. It was a tumultuous couple of weeks, but when the band phoned me with their support, I knew I had made the correct decision.
I bought this CD when I was living alone in a really cool part of Pennsylvania called Mt. Gretna. It’s an artsy community in the woods, full of summer cottages, some of which have been winterized, and a big lake for swimming and a big ice cream shop for gorging. I lived there during the summer of ’92, in a one-bedroom cottage, and it was great. I’d go play gigs with my band, go work at the aspirin factory, and come home and listen to records until I went to bed. I listened to Turns Into Stone so much that summer that when I listen to it today, I still smell the pine trees and honeysuckle, and feel the cool night air seeping through the day’s waning, humid sunlight. I can almost see the lightning bugs starting to flicker.
A song that elicits similar warm, carefree feelings is “Mersey Paradise.”
It opens with a nifty guitar figure from John Squire, the drums and bass crash in, and then Ian Brown’s distinctive, Mancunian voice enters. This song has a 60s British Invasion sound, but updated with prominent drums. “Mersey Paradise” exemplifies everything I love about this band, and this album particularly. Squire’s guitar is full (although quite trebley in this song) and fills all the spaces, and his riffs and lines are interesting and sound cool. Brown’s lyrics describe a rather depressed young man along the banks of the Mersey River considering suicide in the river (his Mersey Paradise). Dark lyrics for such a sunny song! Drummer Reni, who helped popularize that “Madchester” beat that was so ubiquitous in music from the early 90s, is one of the most creative drummers of the era. And he also is responsible for the band’s “secret weapon”: the killer harmonies evident throughout the band’s body of work. I love Squire’s guitar solo, at 1:51, and how the band comes out of it with harmonies blazing, culminating with Brown’s breathy “Oh yeah …” at 2:20. It ends cleanly and perfectly, as a perfect pop song should.
Another 60s-style guitar pop song is the beautiful “Going Down.”
Singer/lyricist Brown this time spins a lovely description of that joyful lightness one experiences during the early phase of a romance, when everything seems perfect. His love, Penny, who lives just thirty minutes away at No. 9, listens to Jimi Hendrix on her record player, tastes like sunscreen, and calls to mind great art. He sums up the feeling of new love in the final stanza: “To look down on the clouds/You don’t need to fly/I’ve never flown in a plane/I’ll live until I die.” Reni provides amazing harmonies throughout, sometimes in counter-melody. Squire’s guitar is cool, yet restrained, but the hero is bassist Gary “Mani” Mounfield, particularly at 1:43. It’s not intricate or challenging – it just sounds cool. And that’s what I like about all Stone Roses songs: they sound cool!
Guitarist Squire is not well-known in the US, but in the UK he is regarded as one of the greats. He plays a funky style, with great tone and creative licks. “Going Down,” above, mentions Jimi Hendrix, and in the song “Standing Here,” Squire shows his love for the man in his opening riff.
His guitar throughout the song is complex and requires repeated listens to catch all the neat little bits he throws into the mix. Drummer Reni provides a shuffling beat that keeps the song bouncing along while Brown sings of unrequited love. I particularly like how the band stops and starts around the lyrics “I don’t think you think like I do,” for example around the 1:28 mark. It’s a subtle thing, one of the many small aspects of the song that makes it so enjoyable to me. The song turns into a different song around the 3:09 mark, with an extended coda with nice bass work and the repeated refrain “I should be safe forever in your arms.”
These 60s style pop songs, featuring clever guitar and groovy bass and drums, make up one side to the band’s recorded material. Another example of this style is the lush “Where Angels Play.” It’s one of Brown’s best vocal performances on the record, featuring a wide-ranging melody and a catchy “there’s something happening” bridge. Brown is notorious for being a disappointing singer in concert, but as a solo artist he’s had several top ten songs in the UK. He’s built a career on stage presence and confidence, and on the Stone Roses’ studio work, he sounds terrific.
Another style of song that The Stone Roses perfected is the catchy-guitar-rock-song-that-also-sounds-sort-of-danceable-but-sort-of-not-really-but-is-regardless-really-cool. Two examples are featured on Turns Into Stone, including “The Hardest Thing In The World.”
This song again has the ripping John Squire guitar, the bouncy Mani bass and classic Reni backing vocals. It’s a song I belt out whenever I listen to it, singing about life on the road, and I play air guitar and air bass and air drums and sing harmonies, as well.
Another in the same vein, and my favorite song on the album, is “What The World Is Waiting For.”
It’s a guitar and bass workout. Reni provides the funky shuffle, and Brown sings about the folly of financial pursuits. It’s getting repetitive, I suppose, but I love listening for all of Squire’s tricks he pulls. There’s so much happening on his guitar, supported by a brilliant rhythm section, that I always find something new each time I listen.
The Stone Roses also were known for lengthy, groove-oriented jams, with repetitive drums and bass and plenty of space for Squire to create his unique soundscapes; these songs were perfect for the ecstasy-fueled raves common in “Madchester” and elsewhere at the turn of the 80s/90s decade. Turns Into Stone contains a number of these, and the most familiar is “Fools Gold.”
This is a hypnotic song that I find can transport me, and make me move. The melody is catchy, with lyrics again featuring an anti-materialism theme. The first 5:40 contains the melody, with vocals and cool guitar, and then the final four-plus minutes are a canvas for John Squire and his wah-wah pedal to go to work. Throughout, Reni and Mani work their magic. Two other songs in the hypnotic-groove category are the rangey, guitar-workout “One Love” and the smoldering “Something’s Burning.”
The other songs on the record include a Peter Hook remix of “Elephant Stone,” from their debut album, that I think sounds ridiculously lame; and a backward version of “Where Angels Play” (another type of song The Stone Roses recorded, thankfully in far fewer numbers than the other genres) titled “Simone.”
So there you have it. My rule-breaking selection. I’m awaiting lawsuits and a barrage of negative press from this selection, but I will hold firm. Apparently those paddlings I had as a child didn’t keep me in line like my parents hoped they would! But this is how I roll. In the words of Ian Brown, from “What the World is Waiting For”:
Here comes the wise man
And there goes the fool
You see that burnt out world that he is living in
I don’t need to look for the rules
“Elephant Stone” (12″ version)
“The Hardest Thing In The World”
“Where Angels Play”
“Fools Gold” (12″ version)
“What the World Is Waiting For”
“One Love” (12″ version)
“Something’s Burning” (12″ version)