Taste Like Honey: Reminiscences from the Αlbum Εra


 The Stone Roses - The Stone Roses



I admit it took me some years to realize that the majority of British people tuning in to brit-pop in the 90’s and 00’s were falling in the same category with the Greek listeners of éntekhno music around the same time.

Certainly not our urban tribe back then, if “éntekhnoi” were to count as urban in the first place; most of them dreamt of hills and forests (even waterfalls!) instead of paved streets, cafés and abandoned factories.  People are strange.

I had to learn the hard way.

It is 2004 and we have nothing better to do but to explore London by night. First things first, a pilgrimage to Plastic People, Trash, and the like. Then, we decided to add to our tight schedule a visit to an alternative pop-rock event. We found a bar with a tribute to Manchester bands and off we were just to realize, much to our horror, that the place was filled with square guys in their 30’s. Those folks couldn’t have been interested in the whimsical stories of Amélie Poulain; they surely must have supported Manchester United though.

The shock was profound. Listening to the, once adored, first album of The Stone Roses became an impossible task for a while. The grief for the abrupt death of an idealized Britannia that took root in my imagination in my post teenage years lasted for some years. The pain became chronic.

But time heals.

As wounds become trophies I Become The Resurrection; and traumas are washed away as roses start to grow in stones and I, once again, Wanna Be Adored. 






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