So here it is at long last. 'Love Spreads' on the radio! After five-and-a-half years of rumour and hearsay, The Stone Roses return. So why all the rumpus?
Because, when we last heard them, they were untouchable. There was Happy Mondays' 'Bummed', there was Primal Scream's 'Screamadelica' and, bang in the middle of this sainted season of British music, there was a marvellous record called 'The Stone Roses'.
And for maybe three years the home scene was more freaky and life-changing than anyone could recall. A collision of drug economics, gifted players and fashion bedlam had transformed the whole topography of young life in the UK.
American journalists decamped to these shores to work out what the hell was occurring. Dozens of camera crews passed through the NME offices asking the same question, and we just answered laughing, "It's ace, isn't it?"
'The Stone Roses' became a set text for all the chart-surfing beat groups of the late '80s and beyond. Songs that were beautifully sensitised and imbued with the sound-warping flavour of the clubs. Chiming guitar figures that were plainly informed by the cosmic adventures of the '60s, but with the funk and savvy of a new era. A drummer whose fatback rumble made a thousand indie drummers tear up the agenda and desperately try to snatch the groove.
THE STONE Roses were space monkeys with attitude. Deadpan, impeccably stoned, urchin wise. They stole folk tunes and couched many of their prettiest songs with dark lines about death and disorder. They copped many images from The Bible, casting themselves as holy souls, beyond reproach. Then they trashed a music biz office when they decided that some guy was taking the piss. Perfect.
The Stone Roses gave rock 'n' roll back its thrilling provenance. The ability to reach beyond the normal core of music fanatics and to charm a whole generation, to change utterly the way you walk, talk and dress. They were a band blessed with splendour and mystery - and at their famous shows at Blackpool, Manchester, London's Alexandra Palace and Spike Island, they brought a sense of occasion that reflected the hysteria of the times.
The band beamed like ready-made icons from the pages of the music press - Ian Brown's ridiculous pout a sure sign that they took their job seriously. Bands like The Charlatans, The High, The Milltown Brothers and Ocean Colour Scene would all aspire to be so cool but they never really made it. Every baggy wannabe was both inspired and perplexed. How the f--k did the Roses do it?
"I THINK we're gonna be huge……." It was exactly six years ago that Ian Brown muttered those fateful words to NME. At that time there was little to suggest that the singer was coming out with anything other than the usual self-obsessed hyperbole.
The Stone Roses had just released their third single, 'Elephant Stone', produced by New Order's Peter Hook. It sneaked into the lower reaches of the charts, yet the Roses were still viewed as another Mancunian cult.
Thoughts of North-west contemporaries The Chameleons sprang not unreasonably to mind, particularly as the Roses' local notoriety stemmed from a nocturnal exercise which almost crippled their career before it had begun.
One morning in 1987, Manchester had awoken to a city centre daubed with the band's name. Buildings, bus shelters, statues…. nothing had escaped the aerosol can or marker pen. Initially, the ruse worked spectacularly, as the Roses' early gigs sold out. Yet in the long term the band was viewed with suspicion as hoolies of the lariest order.
The Roses' first single, 'So Young', ripped the piss out of Manchester's dour image. Yet even by the time they travelled south to Camden Dingwalls, the band's paisley shirts and leather trousers - aligned to a rather ropey selection of half-fulfilled melodic prophecies - mystified an audience used to cheery indie bands.
However, beneath Ian Brown's gormless exterior (sealed somewhat by the enduring image of the singer swinging from the ceiling pipes) wheels were in motion. The stark second 45, 'Sally Cinnamon' was followed by the naïve promise of 'Elephant Stone'.
A deal with Silvertone at last gave the band the financial clout to reach beyond their 2,000-strong hardcore audience.
Which, at the start of 1989, they finally achieved. A rammed show at Manchester's infamous Hacienda raised several sets of cynical London eyebrows and a month later the Roses released 'Made Of Stone', earning themselves an NME Single Of The Week.
A night at London's ICA was disrupted by a 24-hour tube strike, but a privileged few saw the Roses finally finding their live feet, rolling through much of their debut album with a panache and a wide-eyed arrogance that belied their years of bluster.
"'Made Of Stone' is about making a wish and watching it happen," explained a dreamy John Squire in April that year. "Like scoring the winning goal in a cup final….. on a Harley Electroglide….. dressed as Spiderman!" Within six months, even the most ludicrous fantasies would miserably fail to compete with reality……
WHEN THE Stone Roses went subterranean in 1991, to battle with lawyers and eventually go native in a Welsh studio, they left behind a music boom that still held out innocence and possibility as ideals. The death of Will Sinnot from The Shamen was yet to register. Happy Mondays' resignation to heroin and crack, and their wayward signing off record 'Stinkin' Thinkin'', was still to come. Ecstasy psychosis didn't really seem possible back then.
That's why Spike Island, May 1990, is still such a burning memory; upwards of 30,000 high souls jammed under the smokestack and edifices of an industrial dump alive with the flapping of Wrangler 21" flares, Afflecks Palace T-shirts and beanie hats. No two people had the same vision of how the coming days would pan out, how this marvellous gathering of freak power would register in the real world. Anarchy in the fun sense of the word.
Summer 1990 was the high tide of The Stone Roses Mk I. The previous year had ended with 'Fools Gold' - ultra long, dubbed up, plenty of wah-wah - another mighty template for the contenders. With the upcoming 'One Love' and the baggy come-together at Spike Island, everyone reckoned we'd be led in our thousands to the promised land.
And all right, the sound system was duff that day and 'Fools Gold' wasn't actually the top banana. But you can't take away the magic of such an event. After years of being force-fed images of the swinging '60s, of Carnaby Street, of Woodstock and Haight-Ashbury and all that tedious you-kids-don't-know-anything-about-real-fun retro shite, we knew better. This was the one. This was our movie, and it was extraordinary.
And the closing credits to our movie went like this: Wardrobe by Joe Bloggs. Headgear from Millets. Pills from Bathtub Labs Inc Music…. from Heaven, somewhere above Manchester.
That's why the Roses' resurrection makes our heads rotate. That's why their return matters so much.
So what the hell has happened over the past five years? Over the next few pages, PAUL MOODY and JOHN HARRIS recall the tortuous road to 'The Second Coming'.
JANUARY 1991
John Major has been Prime Minister for little more than two months. The Glastonbury Festival is cancelled, following mini-riots the previous year. Happy Mondays are due to play the Rock In Rio festival in Brazil.
ON January 13, The Stone Roses book into Bluestone rehearsal studio in Pembrokeshire, South Wales. Their manager, Gareth Evans, is keen for the band to stay as long as possible, to keep them away from the public eye while the legal dispute with their record label Silvertone continues. It soon becomes evident, however, that their behaviour is too erratic for them to remain here long.
It's the middle of winter and the band entertain themselves any way they can. They use pool cues as baseball bats and fire pool balls across the studio, eventually breaking a large double-glazed window. Ian apologises the next morning, Reni's catchphrase becomes "What day is it?"
After a heavy snowfall, the four of them take large silver trays and toboggan down a nearby hill. Their favourite pastime (besides shooting lit balls of paper at each other through a spaceheater) is to build a bonfire outside the studio and throw aerosol cans into the blaze, causing lumps of red hot metal to explode outwards like shrapnel.
In tribute to Noreen, Bluestone's owner, John takes her £400's worth of Harrods carving knives and, helped by the others, fashions a circumcised nine-foot phallic symbol out of snow (in the style of Henry Moore) on the doorstep. Such is its impact the local farmers dub Noreen 'The Old Cock And Ball', a nickname she has yet to lose.
The band refuse to eat anything other than chips. When they are served baked potatoes they throw them in the fire, much to the distress of Bluestone's waitress, Pippa. On leaving, in the dead of night at the end of February, a van comes to pick them up. It gets stuck in the snow, and a local tractor has to dig them out.
As they depart, John Squire assures Noreen that all damages will be paid for. Ian Brown signs the Bluestone's guest book as 'The laziest man in showbusiness'. Reni writes, 'What time is it?' Manny scrawls, 'Nothing off for good behaviour, Viva La Proletariat' and, 'PS The sheep are tight'. John Squire, in tiny letters, simply signs his name.
FEBRUARY '91
The IRA launches a major attack on Downing Street while the War Cabinet is in session. The Allies launch a land attack on Iraqi forces in Kuwait. Manchester's Hacienda closes down following repeated threats of gang violence.
AFTER MONTHS of whispering about their wish to leave Silvertone, which resulted in an injunction preventing them from recording new material ("The Stone Roses next LP may have to be shelved for at least a year," said NME), the Roses announce that they will go to court on March 4 to free themselves from their contract. Their lawyer, John Kennedy, has prepared a 40-page document explaining why their deal is not legally binding.
Associates of the band claim they have enough new material "to fill two new albums", and a behind-the-scenes bidding war is in full swing.
MARCH '91
Shaun Ryder bemoans the censoring of lyrics of 'Loose Fit' in the wake of Gulf War broadcasting restrictions. Happy Mondays are due to headline a baggy-fest at Leeds Elland Road with The Farm and Northside. Iraqi leaders agree to a ceasefire.
THE CASE begins in earnest. Peter Prescott QC, on behalf of Silvertone, tells the court that the Roses, "Can't now be heard to say 'Boo hoo, I now want to get out of the contract'." Gary Gersh, head of A&R for Geffen, has made manager Gareth Evans a huge offer and guaranteed that, if the Roses' quest to get out of the Silvertone deal is successful, Geffen will cover all legal costs. Evans, staying at the plush Russell Hotel in North London, is in noticeably buoyant mood, dodging journalists while wearing a permanent grin.
The band turn up in court to hear Geoffrey Howard, the man who represented them when they signed the Silvertone deal, give evidence. London begins to get in a lather about rumours that the Roses will stage a huge summer comeback gig in the south-east of England.
APRIL '91
Sounds newspaper closes. The Hacienda is reported to be re-opening on May 21, the club's ninth birthday. Manic Street Preachers release 'Motown Junk'.
IAN BROWN and Mani appear in court, sitting with fans while the case meanders on. It is revealed that Gareth Evans' real name is Ian Bromley, and Silvertone allege that he has a ten-year management deal with the band and receives 33.3 per cent of all their earnings. Silvertone also claim Evans has never provided The Stone Roses with any detailed information about the finances of his company, Starscreen Management.
The case takes a decisive turn when it's revealed that the contract with Silvertone is somewhat one-sided: according to two of several bizarre clauses, the label isn't obliged to release Roses product anywhere else in the world and the band only get half-rate royalties on any greatest hits package.
Evans announces that the Roses - whose debut album has sold 250,000 copies in the USA - will play New York's Madison Square Garden and the LA Forum.
MAY '91
Two Birmingham girls are imprisoned in Thailand for heroin smuggling. Richey Manic carves '4 Real' into his arm in an attempt to prove the authenticity of his motives to NME journalist Steve Lamacq. Will Sinott of The Shamen dies in Ibiza.
THE ROSES win their case. They sign to Geffen for a reputed £20 million, with an initial advance of £2.3 million.
"Gazza misses out but the Roses clean up," says Gareth, alluding to Paul Gascoigne's career-endangering injury in the FA Cup final. "We are looking forward to a new release this autumn," says Mel Posner, head of Geffen's international A&R department.
The band resume rehearsals in a rented house in North Manchester but proceedings are cut short when John Squire flies to Tenerife with girlfriend Helen.
The band travel to the Cup Winners Cup final in Rotterdam to see Manchester United beat Barcelona 2-1.
JUNE/JULY '91
Croatia and Slovenia declare independence from Yugoslavia. Six doormen are stabbed at the Hacienda. A spokesman announces that the club will not be closing down.
SILVERTONE ANNOUNCE they are to appeal against the court's verdict. Proceedings are not expected to start for nine months, triggering the Roses' conscious retreat from public view.
Football occupies them more than anything else. Aside from the Rotterdam expedition, they occasionally have conversations with their publicist Phillip Hall, letting him know their immediate intentions and engaging in animated conversations about 'the beautiful game'. Reni begins playing with a BBC team that also includes members of Yargo and A Certain Ratio: the team plays at Platt Fields - Manchester City's training ground - on Tuesday nights. Ian Brown occasionally shows up, too.
AUGUST '91
John McCarthy is freed in Beirut after five years in captivity. Happy Mondays headline flop Cities In The Park festival in Manchester. The Farm appear on the cover of NME.
SILVERTONE, STILL smarting from reported Roses-related losses of £1 million, release 'I Wanna Be Adored' as a single, and re-format the album: a gatefold package is now available.
The increasingly wayward Reni appears at Manchester Magistrates Court on four charges, including threatening behaviour and illegal parking. He pleads not guilty.
Aside from legal hoo-hah, he is also the owner of three houses in Manchester - including one maisonette in a desirable mini-estate near the G-Mex centre - and is earning reasonable amounts from being a landlord. He and his girlfriend - a paediatric doctor at St Mary's Hospital - are expecting a child.
SEPTEMBER/NOVEMBER '91
Robert Maxwell goes for a midnight dip. 'Nevermind' and 'Screamadelica' are released. Freddie Mercury dies.
RENI'S GIRLFRIEND gives birth to a son, Cody. The drummer is cleared by Manchester magistrates on charges of disorderly behaviour and police obstruction, having refused to move his car which was causing a blockage on Burton Road, West Didsbury. He admits two offences - parking in a no waiting area and causing an obstruction - and is fined £50. In court, Reni states: "I have already lodged a complaint about the way I was physically abused by the police."
Prompted by the increased availability of bootleg tapes and albums of old material in Manchester, Ian Brown returns to Strawberry Studios with tour manager Steve 'Adge' Atherton to buy back 16 old session tapes - produced by Martin Hannett - from 1985.
The Roses are confirmed as headliners for a vast summer show in Hertfordshire in aid of Oxfam.
DECEMBER '91/JANUARY 1992
George Bush collapses at a state banquet in Tokyo. The Farm allege that they have been the victims of a "Scrooge-like interpretation" of Gallup chart rules when 'Love See No Colour' fails to chart.
IT IS reported that the Roses won't be releasing any new material until autumn, as the trauma of the Silvertone case has blunted the band's creative edge. "After the court case," says a friend, "John Squire showed the band what he had written - and the others turned round and said it wasn't good enough. Instead of going into the studio, the band wanted to get it right. They realise they can't rely on hype."
The Roses, Gareth and Geffen have a summit meeting mid-way through a frenzied bout of house-hunting on the back of the Geffen advance. Insiders confirm that the court case "took a lot out of them."
FEBRUARY/MARCH '92
Mike Tyson is found guilty of rape. A rumour that Kurt Cobain is dead turns out to be false. Nirvana are confirmed as Sunday night headliners for the Reading Festival.
THE ROSES part company with Gareth Evans after months of speculation surrounding their deteriorating relationship, and plan to start recording their second album with producer John Leckie. Geffen schedule it for release in early summer.
Keen to record near Ian's house, but not enamoured with nearby studios, the Roses hire The Rolling Stones' mobile studio and move into the Old Brewery, in Ewloe, North Wales, a rehearsal studio with 12 bedrooms. Sessions tend to start at 4 or 5pm and crawl to a close in the wee hours.
The Roses bring six songs to the sessions, and work proceeds satisfactorily, although they continue to indulge a passion for throwing eggs at each other. Ian continues his teetotal lifestyle and goes ashen-faced at the mention of mixing his chips with any other food, and is sufficiently consumed by keeping fit to take up boxing-style skipping exercises. John restricts himself to a few glasses of wine. Only Mani, already calling himself "the rogue Rose", expresses an interest in beer.
The group last six weeks at the Old Brewery, resolving to return after a break. It becomes obvious that the Eastnor Castle gig for Oxfam will not be graced by the Roses' presence; The Cure are eventually announced as headliners, but the show never takes place.
APRIL/JULY '92
John Major is unexpectedly returned to power wit a majority of 21. The Mondays come back from album sessions in Barbados in disarray. Kurt Cobain is rushed to Belfast Royal Victoria hospital suffering from crippling stomach cramps, denying that he is a heroin addict.
RENI'S BROTHER Paul Wren appears at Manchester Crown Court on three charges of false representation. Over a three week period he has taken £1,400 from his brother's account, claiming to be Reni. Reni's bank branch reportedly authorise payment when told that the man at the counter is "a drummer who's a bit vague".
The Roses return to the Old Brewery with Leckie for a month-long stay, working on a handful of new songs. At least ten of these are destined for eventual release, among them 'Driving South', 'Breaking Into Heaven', 'Love Spreads' and 'Tightrope'. They're heavier than the first album, riding on what studio employees describe as a "killer groove".
Leckie tells them that they really ought to go on a creative sabbatical and do some demos on their own, as studio rental fees are getting exorbitant. The band ignore his advice and make a New Year booking at Square One in Bury. No-one from Geffen has visited them: an air of nonchalance continues to surround the Roses camp.
AUGUST/DECEMBER '92
The Charlatans' Rob Collins is arrested on charges of armed robbery. Madonna's Sex is published. An increasingly desperate Farm score a minor hit with a cover of The Human League's 'Don't You Want Me' from NME's 'Ruby Trax' compilation.
THE BAND return to Manchester, where gang wars have all but obliterated the baggy idyll. Clubs are wracked with violence and corruption, and the city's glitterati move out of the spotlight. The city's slide is epitomised by the Happy Mondays, degenerating rapidly as they announce that they're playing smaller venues to enable them "to see the whites of the audience's eyes". A crucial European tour is subsequently cancelled.
Ian Brown is variously spotted in Mancunian supermarkets, the upmarket southern suburbs, and parking a new BMW outside a chip shop on Beech Road, Chorlton. Once inside, he continues his one-dimensional culinary adventures by ordering a portion of chips. More curiously, he makes a habit of wandering up and down nearby Wilbraham Road and enthusiastically acknowledging anyone he deems to be cool. The band are regularly spotted in two Chorlton pubs, the Beech and the Horse & Jockey, indulging in concerted drinking sessions during which they sample every variety of bitter available.
Mani continues to be a devout disciple of Manchester United, flying to away games and regularly attending home matches at Old Trafford. The whole band celebrate United's victory over Man City at Manto's, a plush bar in the raffish Whitworth Street corridor.
Their chronic inactivity is revealed by the fact that the hire vans once seen making daily visits to Steve Atherton's house are nowhere to be seen.
JANUARY/FEBRUARY 1993
Bill Clinton is sworn in as 42nd president of America. Huggy Bear get NME Single Of The Week with 'Herjazz'. Record company jitters surround Blur's imminent return.
WITH A tiny fraction of John Squire's fresh fortune, his girlfriend quits being a stallholder on Manchester's Castlefield Market, and sets up a children's clothing business. Their daughter appears on the front of her first catalogue.
The band, still in football/holidays/Lanzarote mode, receive word that Geffen's Gary Gersh is planning an excursion to Manchester to find out exactly what's going on.
His visit spurs a spate of whispers about a summer single. He tells the band he's worried about not having heard a single note by them since their signing. He's also looking for a manager for the band, to replace the long-departed Gareth Evans.
MARCH/APRIL '93
A huge IRA bomb explodes in the City Of London. Happy Mondays split, with Shaun Ryder reported to have 'begged the rest of the band to get back together'. Ryder sells his side of the story to The Sun after, apparently 'refusing to sign on the dole'.
OUT OF the blue, John Leckie is summoned to Square One studios in Bury, to work with equipment hired from Hilton Sound in South London. As far as Leckie is concerned, almost a dozen songs are heading towards eventual completion, including 'Love Spreads', 'Your Star Will Shine', 'Driving South', 'Breaking Into Heaven', 'Begging You' and a "five minute wonder" entitled 'Ten Storey Love Song'.
Geffen, itching to put some momentum behind the Roses' return, begin approaching potential managers, the most notable of which is Elliot Rashman, manager of Simply Red. Thinking himself unsuitable, Rashman suggests that Nathan McGough, freshly divorced from Happy Mondays, applies instead. Tired of working with bands best described as 'quixotic', he decides not to.
APRIL/MAY '93
The Grand National is declared void. Blur announce their first single for a year, 'For Tomorrow'. Hole play a women-only gig at London Ladbroke Grove Subterania.
IT'S NOW four years from the week that 'The Stone Roses' was released, and the NME travels to Bury to find them. The band remain cautious and refuse to be interviewed. "Come back in a few months and we'll do a proper interview," declares Ian Brown.
The band play pool while dodging our correspondents. John Leckie increasingly feels that he's involved in something so strange that it's making his life unbearable.
The band's crew - apart from Steve Atherton and three other close associates, who are kept on the payroll - begin to lose hope of ever working for the Roses again. They will later be taken on by Oasis, thus forging the much trumpeted lineage that runs between the two bands.
Mani celebrates Man Utd's first League Championship victory in 26 years drinking with friends at Legetts Wine Bar in Failsworth, north Manchester. The party is eventually broken up by police.
Gary Gersh is appointed President of Capitol records in America. Responsibility for the Roses is handed over to Tom Zutaut, also in charge of Guns N' Roses.
JUNE/JULY '93
John Major is caught up in a press storm after calling Cabinet colleagues "bastards". The inaugural Phoenix festival is plagued with trouble after a mini-riot and the stabbing of a security guard. Shaun Ryder records a duet with Stella from Interstella entitled 'Can You Fly Like You Mean It'.
THE BAND check into Rockfield studios near Monmouth, run by Kingsley Ward, erstwhile manager of T'Pau. On July 26, John Leckie arrives for discussions about the state of play.
Despite the fact that the album is pencilled in for October release, he's so ground down by their erratic schedules that he decides to quit, eloping to work with (The) Verve and Radiohead.
AUGUST '93
The Boo Radleys release the universally lauded 'Giant Steps'. New Order make a one-off appearance at Reading Festival, rumoured to be their last. The re-appearance of The Wonder Stuff coincides with the death of ex-member Rob 'Bass Thing' Jones.
PAUL SCHROEDER, producer of 'Fools Gold' and 'Don't Stop', takes over from John Leckie. The band decide to start afresh, using what they've already recorded as demos. Local engineer Simon Dawson becomes Schroeder's right-hand man, gradually assuming a larger role.
Ian's obsession with keep fit spreads to the rest of the band and they all hire mountain bikes. John Squire is the keenest, also leading the band into the chilled-out world of kite-flying.
Novocaine, a local neo-punk band, are booked into the next-door studio at Rockfield when the Roses arrive. Ian strikes up a friendship with the band, particularly singer Steve, which eventually culminates in him providing a lyric for Novocaine's song 'Brain'.
Sessions often last through the night, ending at 6 or 7am, recording everything in as few takes as possible in an attempt to get them sounding 'live'.
Ian and Mani seem particularly laidback, hanging out with local musicians who come up to the studio, sitting around smoking and laughing at the adverts on HTV. Ian is willing to talk on any subject, favourite topics being Greek mythology and John Lennon. Encouraged by the calm surroundings, the band start drinking at local pubs The Nag's Head and The Bull. John Squire, as expected, is the most aloof of the four, keeping his distance from the band's new friends and often disappearing off to paint.
Gareth Evans recruits Bernard Sumner to produce a single by Man Utd's winger, Lee Sharpe. Evans has formed his own label, Volcanic, and declares, "I persuaded Bernard to work with Lee just as I persuaded Hooky to produce the Roses' 'Elephant Stone'. It's going to be a brilliant record".
SEPTEMBER/NOVEMBER '93
The BNP's Derek Beackon is elected as a Tower Hamlets councillor. Charlatan Rob Collins is sentenced to eight months imprisonment for attempted robbery. Graham Taylor resigns as England manager.
MANI, ALREADY installed at a new home in Monmouth, ceases to be the rogue Rose by starting a relationship with a local girl. The other three's visits to Rockfield become intermittent as they spasmodically return to football/holidays/Lanzarote mode and The Charlatans move into their freshly-vacated part of the studio.
The Roses return to Rockfield in the first week of November. Also in residence are Lush. Mani and Paul Schroeder have become a double act, hanging around with the Lush party.
Mani celebrates his 29th birthday at The Bull with John, Paul, Lush and their producer Mike Hedges, and the circle of Monmouth kids who have become the Roses' new entourage. The survivors end up drinking tequila and champagne slammers with Ronnie Rogers, ex-guitarist with T'Pau. A horrified Mani finishes the evening holding open the taxi door on Rockfield's driveway as Lush's Emma Anderson is violently sick.
There's also the annual Rockfield bonfire party, attended by Mani and John Squire, who still tends to spend a worrying amount of time riding round nearby lanes on a mountain bike. Ian Brown, meanwhile, makes a habit of wandering the studio in the wee hours, cadging fag ends from the Lush party in order to build joints. "Have you got any dimps?" becomes his catchphrase.
The Roses begin formulating a plan for their return. Mani says that the band now think the Spike Island and Ally Pally shows were fiascos, and they want to play gigs in big tops, a la their last show at Glasgow Green. He also says he's written his first song for the album "and it's much better than all the others".
The relaxed, jovial vibe surrounding the Roses' camp is amply demonstrated by a weird incident towards the end of the month. The phone rings in Lush's living quarters midway through the day.
"Is Moira there?" says a hushed, deep voice, looking for Rockfield's head caterer. "It's John."
"No," replies Emma Lush.
"It's just that we haven't got any eggs," says John. "They confiscated them all after we had this massive food fight. I s'pose we'll have to have cornflakes."
Range Rover's return: Tour manager Steve Atherton chauffers Ian Brown to the chip shop (possibly):
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