RIP Mani. The Stone Roses bass player had just announced a music/spoken word tour last week. I’d checked the dates, but all predictably across the pond. They’re still beloved there—especially the self-titled debut album, from 1989. When my wife and I were in London for our honeymoon, bopping around shoppes, no fewer than three of them had this platter playing. Timeless, even if it took me a few times to really fall for it.

The UK madness for the Roses peaked with their concert at Spike Island in 1990. Of all the music scenes I wish I could’ve witnessed, I long held Syd Barrett’s Pink Floyd at the UFO Club as my top “wish I were there” moments—but having read about that legendary Spike Island gig, that may have been even cooler. Noel and Liam Gallagher were there, pre-Oasis, absorbing all that’s great about that proto-Britpop/”baggy” swagger. Mancunians have this unparalleled knack for combining melody, rhythm, song sensibility and attitude, and the Roses—maybe more than any other band/album—managed to distill it with their debut.

The band made for a special cultural moment, and Mani was there, (literally) swinging his bass throughout it all. Thank you!

-Mati

P.S. I need to write more. I’d been holding off writing blogs, hoping to force myself to channel that desire into writing more songs, but I think that’s the wrong mindset; oughta just create whatever strikes me. More on the way.