When the Stone Roses first made a splash with their eponymous debut album in 1989 they were almost perfect. The only mistake was a brief flirtation with flared trousers. Nearly a quarter of a century on in north London the strides were strictly straight-legged. The only flares were the red ones some clot in the audience kept lighting. I don't envy his prospects if health and safety ever get hold of him.
As for the music, this show, the first of two nights in the capital, certainly burnt brightly, but only in places. At times Ian Brown's vocals sounded flatter than the sozzled audience singalongs. When he sang "You're all out of time" on "She Bangs the Drum" he might as well have been singing "I'm all out of tune."
Brown looked good, the godfather of the simian stroll copped by Liam Gallagher
But elsewhere the Roses were as resplendently magnificent as they were in their first coming. Brown looked good, the godfather of the simian stroll copped by Liam Gallagher and a generation of snarky Mancunians. He could have been more communicative though, not saying much after an opening "nice one, thanks" and introducing the still gloriously beautiful "Waterfall" as "for the ladies" as if he was a crooner in a scampi-in-a-basket nightclub.
There was not a great display of onstage chemistry between the rest of the band, but they certainly played their part in recreating that famous wall-to-wall sound. Guitarist John Squire, his face concealed under a mop that was shaggier than ever, was on virtuoso form, switching seamlessly between rock, funk and psychedelic noodling.
A number of songs were enhanced by extended Squire solos and there were even hints of Hendrix on "Shoot You Down". On the other side of the stage Mani on bass, kept company by a selection of Toby jugs balanced on his speakers, seemed to be concentrating too hard to enjoy himself, while there was no unscripted disappearance from drummer Reni this time, unlike in the new movie, Made of Stone.
The quartet only released two albums and one of those lost the plot a little, so it was no surprise that most of the gig highlights came from that definitive debut that mixed Sixties jangle with punk arrogance. "This Is the One" and "Made of Stone" stood out, while "I Am The Resurrection" was even more relevant today than when it was first recorded – though now it refers to the band being back together, not Ian Brown's messiah complex. "I Wanna Be Adored" continued this chest-thumping theme, while the republican clarion call of "Elizabeth My Dear" seemed a little ungracious on the day that Her Majesty's hubby was poorly.
If The Stone Roses was a band who failed to fulfil their full potential (while paving the way for Britpop), the song that summed up this missed opportunity was "Fools Gold." The version they performed here felt even longer than the original 12-inch remix but never overstayed its welcome, showing that a white rock band can be truly funky in a very modern way. If only they had got over the squabbles that derailed them, who knows what a third album might have been like?
Instead this reunion feels a little like The Stone Roses in aspic. If they played any new material it passed me by. And yet somehow this never felt like a band just trundling out the hits and banking the cheque. As Made of Stone director Shane Meadows has said, the Roses was one of those unique bands whose music became the soundtrack to people's lives. Who can blame them for wanting to replay that soundtrack once again?
Watch The Stone Roses perform "I Wanna Be Adored"
