Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide

Since the Stone Roses were the nominal leaders of Britain's "Madchester" scene — an indie rock phenomenon that fused guitar-pop with drug-fueled rave and dance culture — it's rather ironic that their eponymous debut only hints at dance music. What made the Stone Roses important was how they welcomed dance and pop together, treating it as if it were the same beast. Equally important was the Roses' cool, detached arrogance which was personified by Ian Brown's nonchalant vocals. Brown's effortless malevolence is brought to life with songs that equal both his sentiments and his voice — "I Wanna Be Adored," with its creeping bass line and waves of cool guitar hooks, doesn't demand adoration, it just expects it. Similarly, Brown can claim "I Am the Resurrection" and lay back, as if there were no room for debate. But the key to The Stone Roses is John Squire's layers of simple, exceedingly catchy hooks and how the rhythm section of Reni and Mani always imply dance rhythms without overtly going into the disco. On "She Bangs the Drums" and "Elephant Stone," the hooks wind into the rhythm inseparably — the '60s hooks and the rolling beats manage to convey the colorful, neo-psychedelic world of acid house. Squire's riffs are bright and catchy, recalling the British Invasion while suggesting the future with their phased, echoey effects. The Stone Roses was a two-fold revolution — it brought dance music to an audience that was previously obsessed with droning guitars, while it revived the concept of classic pop songwriting, and the repercussions of its achievement could be heard throughout the '90s, even if the Stone Roses could never achieve this level of achievement ever again.

Chris Nickson, Amazon.com

Some albums really can change the world, and in 1989 this was one of them. The psychedlic dance extravaganza that was The Stone Roses ushered in the era of Madchester, baggy trousers, Kangols, and the Hacienda. From the magnificent protracted opening of "I Wanna Be Adored" (where, for once, the arrogance wasn't overdone) to the dying seconds of "Fools Gold," every note was perfect. Jon Squire's guitarwork was a thing of magic, a new hero for a new age, Ian Brown sang with gusto, and the rhythm section had paid attention during the second summer of love (1988 version). Essential.

Caitlin Moran, Amazon.co.uk

It's a classic, obviously: at the time it was released, the La's were the only other keepers of the hot seed of jangly West Coast Byrdsian pop. In The Stone Roses' wake, thousands of pale indie-boys fell pregnant with their own bands: Blur and Oasis wouldn't exist without them, and even Richey Manic cited "This Is The One" as his favourite ever song. But it wasn't just the frankly gorgeous Gene Clark and Pink Floyd guitar spanglings of "I Wanna Be Adored" or "Made Of Stone"; nor Ian Brown's triumphal proclamations on the assassination of the Queen ("Elizabeth My Dear") and his own Christ-like powers ("I Am The Resurrection"), that made the Stone Roses so seminal. That was down to the rhythm-section, Reni and Mani, who were hot and tight enough to prompt the first ever sightings of vaguely co-ordinated indie-kid dancing. Alas! John Squire would never be this inspired, nor Ian Brown this in tune, again.

Tony Fletcher, Barnes & Noble

When Manchester's Stone Roses released their eponymous debut album in 1989, British youth were abandoning rock music en masse for acid-house sounds and communal raves. Without resorting to dance beats, Stone Roses effortlessly tapped into this cultural sea-change and almost single-handedly made British rock music hip again. Stone Roses remains forever faultless. The dreamlike opener, "I Wanna Be Adored," and the enthralling conclusion, "I Am the Resurrection," ultimately caused a plague of overconfident Brit youth declaring similar greatness, but coming from the Roses' Jagger-like vocalist Ian Brown, such claims were temporarily justified. Gifted guitarist John Squire, bassist Mani, and drummer Reni all helped set a musical agenda of classic psychedelia married with punk energy and rave swagger, a sound at its best on the pop anthems "She Bangs the Drums" and "Made of Stone," the backward-guitar riffing "Don't Stop," and the raucous "This Is the One." A post-album single, the lengthy and funky "Fool's Gold," was added to later American pressings of Stone Roses and then that was it: the group got famous, became embroiled in law suits, and reemerged only in 1995, with the stodgy and wrongly titled Second Coming. The Stone Roses, however, remains a stellar contribution to the canon of classic debuts.

The Stone Roses: Ian Brown (vocals); John Squire (guitar); Gary Mounfield (bass); Reni (drums, background vocals). Producers: John Leckie, Peter Hook, Paul Schroeder, Garage Flowers.

Manchester's most likely to, who escaped independent status after a lengthy court battle, signed to Geffen and then promptly disappeared for five years. They came back, and then went pop. Quite simply, their debut album is a superlative record. A Byrds-like listlessness caused listeners to swoon in wonder and slip quietly beneath the surface. 'Waterfall' and 'She Bangs The Drums' were sublime and quietly brilliant, 'I Wanna Be Adored' teased with its epic intro, and, of course, created incredible and impossible pressure for that all-important second album. A classic album, already seen as one of the finest records of the '80s.

CMJ New Music Report, issue 176, August 11th 1989

Mixing a distinctly late `60s era sound (Byrds and Beatles most notably, and "Elizabeth My Dear" is sung to the tune of Simon And Garfunkel's "Scarborough Fair") with an unmistakably modern pop twist, Manchester, England's Stone Roses have created an atmospheric pop sound as different as the parts of their name. Drawing from a large assortment of musical influences, from the `60s to reggae to house music, but all with a distinctly psychedelic pop tone, this quartet layers their chiming guitars with spiraling harmonies to create a mood that is sensuous, gentle and lively-not dark, cold or stone-like-with lyrics that are not flowery, but which evince an urgency to today's British society. Indeed, the Stone Roses have taken England by storm, earning accolades of the highest nature and dominating the airwaves. Given proper support, such success is also possible here-try the lead single "She Bangs The Drums," "Made Of Stone," "Waterfall," "I Wanna Be Adored" and "Resurrection."

Ian Gittins, Q Magazine, October 2000

They began as leather-trousered Mancunian goths, and their barren name always seemed inappropriate for leaders of the loved-up chemical generation. They ended, after a daft five-year hiatus, in a welter of disagreements, accusations and the humiliating revelation that singer Ian Brown couldn't carry a tune in a bucket. But for a brief spell in-between, though, the Stone Roses seemed to rule the world. It remains one of modern pop's more curious stories. Four dour lads, grinding out sub-Spear Of Destiny, clodhopping indie-rock, fall in love with MDMA and get fluid, funky and fantastic. They write these mercurial, timeless anthems and become spokesmen for their generation along the way. Could it really have have been so easy? It could, it was, and 10 years after its initial release, The Stone Roses' eponymous debut album still sounds tremendous. These febrile, spectral songs have aged well. I Wanna Be Adored remains nigh-on perfect, its petulant lyrical demand for adulation lifted by Gary "Mani" Mounfield's portentous bassline, John Squire's golden guitar shimmer and Alan "Reni" Wren's - groundbreaking, back then - funky drummer shuffle. Waterfall remains iridescent, Squire pulling off inspired arabesque solos, and This Is The One is the best song The Byrds never wrote. Tellingly, Bye Bye Badman and Elizabeth My Dear prove that the Roses weren't too lazy and blissed-out to formulate their own idiosyncratic but laudably radical political agenda. This was pure pop alchemy indeed. There are bonus singles, oddities and videos thrown into this reissue package, but it's the original disc which still fascinates. The Stone Roses couldn't hope to top this debut, and of course they never did. Looking back a decade on, it remains clear that here was a band - and an album - in a million.

© Frank Steven Groen