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Select December 1996 Issue



THE SEAHORSES
'Horse play!

World exclusive! John Squire's hush-hush comeback hits the fragrant climes of Greenock!

It started as Oasis, then people really got to thinking. Kula Shaker. Ocean Colour Scene. The Charlatans. Primal Scream. Cast. Dodgy. Shed Seven. Local heroes Whiteout with their pal Mani standing in on bass. No stone was left unturned as the young folk of Grenock racked their brains guessing who would be the hush-hush surprise guests at Club Rico's re-opening party on Saturday night. But Seahorses? John Squire's new band? Nah, it just couldn't be. Not possible. You don't fuck with religion.

Club Yo-Yo at Rico's may well be the only Saturday-night club anywhere that's hosted a screening of Roses videos. When news got round that Seahorses had debuted at Buckley Tivoli the week before, still nobody dared dream of the same thing happening at Greenock. Not even Elephant Stone, a kid who got his name because every week he asks DJ Jerry Murray for the same record: he went up to Club Yo-Yo's promoter Andrew 'McDee' McDermid and said, "I've got it! Yes! It's Northside!"

Saturday 7 December. Came 10pm, somewhere near a thousand people are queuing to get into the 300-capacity venue. A few young Mancunians have been seen knocking around, but no one you'd recognise. Secret gigs don't get much more secret. The lucky ones at the front pay their usual tree quid admission and for one long hour standing looking at the equipment on the stage.

With David Bowie's 'Heroes' coming through the PA at the guest band's request, three of those unknown Mancs walk on stage, followed by John Squire. Chaos. Shouting. Only the cordon of monster-size bouncers prevents a full-scale stage invasion, forming the crowd into an orderly sea of hands stretching up for a handshake.

As the opening bars of 'Around The Universe' crash out, it's fairly obvious that anyone hoping for a straight re-run of the Silvertone-era Roses is going to be off home before half time.

However, if you dig Ocean Colour Scene, Cast and your early '70s blues rock, you've found your band of the decade. Andy Watson (drums) and Stuart Fletcher (bass) are a rhythm section set on the kind of power rock that 'Second Coming' was heading towards.

What's more, you couldn't get a singer less like Ian Brown than Chris Helme. As you'd expect of an ex-busker (that's how Squire discovered him in York), not only does he play acoustic guitar throughout, but he can sing, too - usually in the beltring melodic style of John Power. On one listen, the lyrics he co-writes with Squire seem not dissimilar to Power's - a cosmic handle on the modern world.

As for Squire, you might've expected him to take up on the solo frenzy of 'Tears' and the final Roses tours, but there's little room for that kind of thing. Seahorses songs are tough, tightly structured and usually over in way under nine minutes. 'I Want You To Know' and 'Standing On Your Head' are centred around the classic 'Love Spreads'-type grooves, while on tracks like 'Suicide Drive' and 'Sale Of The Century', Squire's love of The Who is more than apparent.

Just by watching them onstage, you can tell Squire's in charge. All the eye contact centres on him. When it comes to the crowd, however, he looks like he'd be more comfortable with the distance that enormo-stardom usually affords. The terrace chanting of "Jooooohn Squiiii-yah" right through the set doesn't seem to settle him any, but when someone down the front offers up their beer to him, Helme snatches it away from Squire's direction. The crowd cheer and it's like the new singer's passed his initiation test. He gets equally big cheers for a solo acoustic number, 'Movin' On'.

All good rock drama stuff, but, when the band finish their encore, the 'Daybreak'-esque 'Love Is The Law', Helme sits on a shelf at the side of the stage and looks on as Squire shuffles stage centre and the fans get what they really want - a lengthy guitar kiss-off worthy of 'Tears'.

There's a weird atmosphere halfway between beer cacophony and stunned silence as Seahorses trott off and people are left looking at each off. Not bad for three quid, eh?

The band aren't charging promoters for these gigs, only requiring a PA and hotel rooms for them and their crew. As long as they're secret, they're going to keep doing them to get the songs into recordable shape in time for sessions in LA at the end of December, with producer Tony Visconti (who produced the aforementioned 'Heroes'). The deal is, co-manager Steve 'Adge' Atherton books the gig, the band get in the van, get driven to the gig, and try to guess where they're being taken.

Such ready gigging and general activity is completely at odd with Roses behaviour as we know it. At Squire's discretion, apparently, much is different with Seahorses. The business side is completely in order. Squire has also got the sleeve art sorted for an album and three singles. They're bristling with purpose. Drummer Andy has even packed in his job as a courier.

When the club shuts at 2am, most assume that the band have departed long since - but, in fact, they're all sitting in the bar downstairs, Squire included, and are well up for going on to a party, y'know, if it's alright. So it is that a large proportion of the audience end up in a festively decorated little house somewhere in Greenock, with their ultimate hero in tow.

Some hours later, one of its tentants is reclining on the sofa in philosophically spliffed-up mood.

"What a day," she sighs, reflecting the air of wonderment that pervades the whole do.

"I go to Rico's as usual and I end up with John Squire sitting in my front room."














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