Designed to replicate England’s teen-targeted pirate radio stations, this 1967 masterpiece is the rock equivalent of Andy Warhol’s soup cans. Kitschy jingles and the Who’s fake commercials for real products mix with pop tunes about the anxieties of youth (“Tattoo”) and troubled relationships (“I Can See for Miles”). The stereo mix showcases choirboy harmonies, while the second disc’s mono mix throbs with John Entwistle’s meaty bass. A whopping 27 outtakes and alternate versions make this the definitive Sell Out. ( BARRY WALTERS - Rolling Stone )
Released in the spring of 1989, the debut album by the Stone Roses remains a blast of magnificent arrogance, a fusion of Sixties-pop sparkle and the blown-mind drive of U.K. rave culture. It opens with the commanding jangle of “I Wanna Be Adored” — singer Ian Brown pressing his case in a cocky whisper, through miles of reverb — and ends with Godlike ego, the extended tribal-dance party “I Am the Resurrection.” Everything in between still sounds just as bold and fab: the spangled-Clash gallop “She Bangs the Drums”; the glass-rain guitars and sighs in “Waterfall”; guitarist John Squire’s psychedelic spinout in the dark sprint “Made Out of Stone.” But Brown, Squire, bassist Gary “Mani” Mounfield and drummer Alan “Reni” Wren had only one great record in them; by 1996, they were gone, ruined by infighting and a mediocre follow-up, 1994’s Second Coming.
The two-dozen-plus extra tracks spread over the multiple editions of this reissue underscore the sober truth: The Roses were, at best, briefly brilliant. They sound hesitant and brittle on their demos. There are strong B sides and outtakes (“Standing Here”) but also too much backward-tape nonsense. The Roses had one more flash of glory, the 1989 single “Fools Gold,” nine minutes of simulated-Ecstasy rhythm and glee. That original first LP, though, is the main reason their audacity matters. Everything else, fascinating as it is to have and hear, is mostly lead-up and letdown. ( DAVID FRICKE - Rolling Stone )