Apparently you could hear the singalong in Manchester...
John Squire emerges wearing a black shirt emblazoned with the words PROPHET and LOSS on either arm. Long term fans exchange knowing glances. The mood of regret couldn’t hang heavier in the air if they’d played ‘I Am The Resurrection’ over the PA before he came on. John shoots a glance at a backing band who are so fresh-faced they make The Seahorses look like Motorhead‘s roadies. He starts up a riff. It’s ‘I Am The Resurrection’. Disbelief hits the crowd in waves. First comes mute disbelief. By the bass breakdown aching limbs are preparing themselves for an unscheduled bout of freaky dancing. By the guitar solo people are putting cigarettes out on their hands to quell the Spike Island flashbacks.
“So, d’ya wanna hear some more Roses tunes?” he drawls after ‘Joe Louis’ and ‘Shine A Light’ have received summary dismissals. Which, let’s face it, is a bit like a tour guide in Memphis asking a coachload of Elvis fanatics whether they’d be interested in seeing Gracelands. ‘She Bangs The Drums’ and ‘Waterfall’ then arrive swathed in his note perfect warble. An epic final ‘Time Changes Everything’ then achieves the previously unheard of medical remedy of catharsis via guitar solo. He encores with ‘Tightrope’.
Apparently you could hear the singalong in Manchester.