"It’s inevitable really,” murmurs a smirking Ian Brown about the chances of his band’s future success. Three weeks later, in 1989, the Stone Roses had changed the pop landscape.
Shane Meadows makes deft use of old footage (the Spike Island gig, the early interviews) in his gushing document of the Manchester band’s startling return last year. Don’t expect a warts-and-all hatchet job here, and drummer Reni’s storm out in Amsterdam isn’t sufficiently documented. It’s a failing from Meadows, but his film aims to eulogise and on that level it succeeds.
The most moving moments come before the free gig they band performed in Warrington, with middle-aged men tearing through the streets for a ticket. Their passion is summed up by one office worker: “There’s a reason I’ve still got my hair like this, there’s a reason I’ve never worn a tie, there’s a reason I listen to that album at least once a week and it still makes me tingle.”
Made of Stone ends rather abruptly, but then so did the Stone Roses.