The Past Was Yours, The Future's Mine (Day 38, 7/2/13)

This is what I wrote the day it became official that my job was ending. The job actually carried on for another year but that year became a time for preparation for the next thing.

Well. It happened.

At 9am 66 HMV store managers sat on a conference call and were told that we are closing in 4-6 weeks.

And do you know what?

I actually don't want to talk about it. With the one very obvious proviso that I have to thank everybody that has been in touch today; by phone, by text, through Facebook, on Twitter, however you did it, it was fantastic. You know who you are and you're all pretty bloody amazing.

What I want to talk about is what I always knew I would talk about on the last day ( and this is the last day really, everything else now is an epilogue) what I always knew would be, apart from obviously the people, the single greatest, single most important thing that I would take away from the last 26 years of this working life.

It's something that bound so many of us together and will continue to link our generation forever.

The Roses.
The Stone Roses.

It goes without saying that the greatest album ever made is The Beatles 'Revolver' - the album that invented everything and I'm sure that I'll go on about it at great length elsewhen- but as a desert island disc, as the album that I'd choose if I could genuinely only ever listen to one album for the rest of my days, it's the first Stone Roses album.

My first hearing of it is vivid; it was early May 1989. Immediately post Hillsborough, obviously an appalling time. I was assistant manager at the smaller of the two HMVs in Liverpool but everybody else had flitted off to conference so I was keeping an eye on Church Street as well. The first Hillsborough benefit single had been released and a TV company needed somebody managerial to give a quick interview on the single. Lovingthe sound of my own voice I was more than happy to do it. I did it in Church St. And as I entered they were playing this album; very sixties-ish, real atmosphere to it, very Byrdsian with more than a hint (to my ears) of Aussie greats The Church. I fell in love immediately, went back to Bold St and ordered it (back when that was the sort of thing we did) and proceeded to spend the summer selling it to anyone who looked as though they knew what guitars should sound like;
"Look, trust me, you want this, you don't know you want it but you want it. If I'm wrong, I'll refund it."
Didn't do many refunds.

I remember playing it to J for the first time. In my old room at my mum and dad's. 'Shoot You Down' "Listen to this, it's incredible" She didn't get it at first, "It's alright" She gets it now.

And it's always been there ever since, there's at least three copies in the house. When the CD player was in the living room back in Hull in 1990, then in Leeds from late 90 to 94, this was always at the front of the rack.

There's not been a week since 1989 that I haven't played it. And it always sounds like it was recorded that day, it never dates, it's impeccable, every note is perfect, it's my favourite guitar work ever. I constantly stand in awe of John Squire's ability. If we need an album in work to pick us up after some soulless shite, it's always the Roses.


Oh, and live...I managed to miss the original line up, never saw them until the Second Coming tour; no Reni but still awesome. Then last summer came. There was the secret gig in Warrington, I was in work, couldn't get there for the ticket, missed out. But my assistant manager wasn't. It was his day off, he could get there. I made the phone call, he saw The Roses at Parr Hall. I don't think I've ever been so happy for someone. He was at Spike Island, he was at Ally Pally, he deserved this.

I got Heaton Park, the Saturday night. Incredible. At some point I'll tell you about the guy that pissed down the back of my leg. But it didn't matter. It couldn't matter. 75,000 people singing I Wanna Be Adored? You genuinely HAD to be there. Transcendental.

And those are the moments.  The album sounds even better now because of the moments. If I ever hear  'Stoned Love' it puts me back at the start of the gig with two hours of splendour ahead. The Roses album makes me want to cry at times because there's so much of my life in every second of it. So much of so many of our lives. How truly great is that?

And in the way that it binds us all I want the last word to go to my brother in law, who I'm probably going to misquote. The Stone Roses changed Col's life. He was the right age for this album to wipe away everything that he'd known before.
And, without apologising for the language because it needs it, this is how I remember him summing it up back when he worked for us and he had to define his favourite album;

"The Stone Roses is just fucking beautiful"

And that is what I wanted to talk about tonight.