Klinger: “The Greatest British Album Ever.” That’s what the New Musical Express famously called the Stone Roses’ debut LP in 2006. Let’s let that sink in for a moment.
The Greatest British Album Ever. This from a nation that has produced the Beatles, the Stones, Led Zeppelin, David Bowie, the Clash, and Showaddywaddy. Mendelsohn, I am puzzled. Does the British critical community undergo periodic memory wipes?
I mean, let me state clearly—this is a pretty good record. Not being British (nor the kind of American who tries to work “bloody” into casual conversation), I have had only a vague awareness of the Stone Roses over the past 22 years. It turns out they’re not the group with Bez. But now, after really forcing myself to settle in with this album, I can say that it’s a well-crafted mix of psychedelia, pop, and I guess elements of dance (Mani and Reni are a solid rhythm section, but I wouldn’t exactly hail them as the Rodgers and Edwards of the 1980s). Well-developed melodies, some fine instrumental craftsmanship, and lyrics that don’t embarrass anyone. But am I missing something here, Mendelsohn?