Essay: Stone Roses and the Seagull Moment

By Matt McLaughlin-Stonham

Editor’s note: This essay was originally published on Gwangju News Online in November 2011. With the Stone Roses playing at the Jisan Rock Festival this month, we are re-featuring the piece. Please note that this piece contains strong language that some readers may find objectionable.

It was a weekend in June 1989. I was working in a record shop in my hometown of Penzance in Cornwall, England on a busy Saturday afternoon. The punters were buying the usual fare: Transvision Vamp, Now compilations, Stock Aitken Waterman-produced singles and U2.

I think I was filing some cassettes away when a young man walked in wearing a white sunhat, sporting shaggy hair and wearing flares. I automatically wrote him off as a Penwith 6th form student looking for summer work or the latest Cure album.

In a quiet, nervous, shaky voice (in those days walking into a record shop was an intimidating experience: High Fidelity is not wrong), he asked, “Do you have the Roses album?”

“Yes” I replied. “Do you want CD, tape or LP?”

“Er..can I have it on vinyl, please?”

“LP, then.” I lazily strolled over to the Top 10 albums section, pulled out the required record from the shelf and handed it over to the punter. “That’s £5.99 please.”

The young man looked at the album with a puzzled expression, shook his head and smiled. “Er..I’m really sorry but this is Appetite for Destruction by Guns n Roses.”

“What? That’s what you asked for, wasn’t it?” Jesus, can’t please anybody today.

“I want the album by The Stone Roses,” the punter insisted.

Now it was me who was puzzled. I had seen a couple of 12-inch singles by them in stock in the last few months, and they were always on the The Chart Show indie charts.

I checked with my assistant manager, Andy, to see if we had it in stock. He was in the back room sorting out records, chain smoking and drinking tea (one of the prerequisites of working in a record shop back then).

He looked at me with horror and muttered, “Fuck!” under his breath. “I fucking knew this would happen! I told Steve to order more copies. Fucking prick.” I stood in the doorway, bewildered.

“Have we got it then?”

“No, we’ve got one left on LP and I want to keep it in the shop to play. Fuck the customers; they can wait ‘til new stock comes in on Monday. Tell him it’s sold out.” Right.

I returned to the shop floor and regretfully told the boy we had sold the last copy. Had he checked Smith’s (WH Smith)? What about the indie shop Causeway Head? All of them had sold out.

I told him that we would have the album in the shop by Monday afternoon, but considering we were at the arse end of Cornwall, it was more likely to be in by Tuesday. But I didn’t tell him that.

The next day, Sunday, we were open to catch summer trade and we had five more requests for the album. (That’s a lot for a debut album in a small shop in the middle of nowhere.)

So what was all the fuss about? Who were The Stone Roses? Why was Andy so insistent on not wanting to sell the last copy?

Well, Andy consequently played the record to whet my curiosity and I wasn’t sold on the first listening (plus we had to quickly abort the playback because the young punter came back in looking for something else). It just sounded like low-fi cheaply produced indie guitar stuff, very characteristic of the alternative charts of the day.

However, on the second listening I remember staring at this seagull that was sitting by the doorway of the shop whilst hearing the sound of guitars and vocals playing backwards.

I was mesmerised. It was one of those life-standing-still moments; just me, the seagull and The Stone Roses.

Andy shut the shop and we sat at the counter drinking our tea, smoking and listening to this barrage of chiming psychedelic guitar and soft youthful vocals.

My initial positive thought was, how could these scruffy looking young lads from Manchester create something so.. mature? advanced? accomplished? and original, of course, for a first album. If you hear early Beatles, Stones or even Radiohead albums, there’s nothing to equate the confidence and maturity of the first Stone Roses record.

Now they’re back. Hopefully I can relive the seagull moment. Maybe I’ll be standing next to that young man whom we lied to so that we could marvel at the beauty rather than him. I’ll buy him a drink, but I won’t say sorry.

More information:
The Jisan Rock Festival 2012
The Stone Roses – home page