Typically Mancunian in his acerbic wit and no-nonsense outlook, Mike Pickering doesn’t give much truck to the myths of Madchester or, more particularly, The Stone Roses. Why should he? To him, the major players are just mates who happened to make great music.

Since the ‘80s, great music has been Mike’s business. A member of the Factory Records band Quango Quango who went on to find fame with M People, it was his role with Factory and presence behind the decks at infamous Haçienda club nights such as Nude that truly changed pop culture. He ushered in the first house records. He was there as the clothes got baggier and the pills came in. He signed The Happy Mondays. And he was the man who first brought The Stone Roses to that Mancunian musical Mecca.
“Yeah, I put them on,” he says matter-of-factly. “The Haçienda was one of their first gigs.”
Notoriously inconsistent live, how did the fresh-faced group fare that evening?
“Now you’re really putting me on the spot! All Manchester bands used to have a history of that. I remember New Order’s electronic equipment was so unreliable that you’d be going, ‘I wonder what tonight’s gig will be like?’. That inconsistency was the same with the Roses. As it happened, it was a really good gig that night.”
The Roses were still finding their feet and their flares.
“We used to rehearse in this old carpet warehouse in Chorlton and The Stone Roses were next door. They weren’t ‘baggy’ at that stage, they used to wear penny drop collars and were a bit psychedelic. Then they embraced Madchester.”
Many would have you believe that the band were early outsiders, at odds with the Factory lot until they exploded. Indeed “Mr. Haçienda” himself, the late Tony Wilson, admitted that he “seriously disliked” the band until they floored him with ‘Waterfall’. Pickering reckons it was much more inclusive than that.
“No, I didn’t get that,” he resumes. “I suppose they could be quite sulky though, couldn’t they? But they were big Haçienda regulars, especially Ian and Mani. We were all mates, everyone hung around together. Manchester got house music before everyone else so we were already in full force when ecstasy hit.”
Everyone was indulging and getting their smiley-faces on – but did Mike get into the fashion?
“No, I’ve always been a mod...” he hesitates. “Okay, a bit! In ‘88 we all had outgrown hair because we were terrified to have it cut. Baggy anoraks and baggy trousers. We looked like we hadn’t been fed for months ‘cos we were off our heads every night. But we didn’t really cultivate that look. Every night, you were soaking wet with sweat. The Haçienda was like that even in the winter, so everyone had that look all the time.”
The Roses’ landmark debut blossomed during the Second Summer of Love. Was that period as exciting as we all imagine?
“It would have been around ‘89 and yeah, it was. But not as good as the first.”
Pickering’s not referring to Woodstock. Rather the early days of Madchester when the scene was still underground.
“That was when it was really special. No-one knew what we were doing. None of the authorities knew what the fuck was going on, and we could live this secret life. It was amazing. Then the media got hold of it. The warehouses where we’d put raves on used to get raided at nine in the morning. People would be tidying up and, of course, no-one was drinking alcohol. I remember me and the Donnellys [legendary rave organisers Chris and Anthony] put on one behind Piccadilly Station. There was just a pile of Fanta bottles and water bottles, so we said, ‘Officer, look, no-one’s been drinking! And Tony Wilson from Granada Reports was here earlier!’. He went, ‘Really? Oh, it must be respectable then. Go on, off you go’. We’d been having a fucking massive rave the whole night! I loved that aspect of it. By ‘91, guns and everything started coming into it and it was over. When the Haçienda closed in 1991, it closed for good. They re-opened it after a period but for me that was it.”
Everyone was moving on but The Stone Roses were stuck in post-Spike Island, pre-Second Coming limbo.
“You’ve got to remember that they had a lot of shit going on. They had that litigation with Silvertone and that’s really draining creatively. Then they fell apart in Scandinavia when they went on tour – and that was that.”
Was he surprised when he heard about the reunion?
“I never thought they’d do it. I was buying one of John’s art prints and it was delayed. It was taking longer than it should have so I got on to him moaning, ‘Where’s my fucking print?’. He apologised and told me he’d been busy lately. I said, jokingly, ‘You’re not reforming the band are you?!’ and he went, ‘Well... er...’!
“I’m a massive Manchester City fan and Mani [a diehard United supporter] did say, when asked when The Stone Roses would reform, that it would happen when ‘City win the fucking league’. Which every City fan has reminded him of since!”
What did he make of Reni upping sticks and leaving at the end of their Amsterdam show? Mr. Brown didn’t seem best pleased.
“It’s much to-do about nothing. From what I’ve heard it will be fine. Reni’s really shy and keeps himself to himself. He’s had some dark times I think, but he’s a great, great drummer. I don’t know what happened but it’s not that unusual for Ian to call someone a cunt!”
Is he talking from first-hand experience?
“He daren’t say it to me!”
Pickering’s looking forward to catching up with his old chums in person.
“I’m not being corny, but they’re all really good lads. And I’ll catch straight up with Mani! I’ve not seen him since May 13 and he was giving me some real fucking stick when we got beaten one-nil by Arsenal. He thought we’d lost the title and started really having a go, texting me and Noel [Gallagher] morning, day and night. I thought he was being a bit ahead of himself and then, of course, we pulled it back... so I’m dying to meet up with him.”
The feeling might not be mutual.
“Oh he’ll be avoiding me, don’t you worry! Whereas Ian went, ‘You deserved it man, there you go’. Ian, with his mystic way, would say, ‘Fookin’ hell, that last day of the season, wow Man!’.”
Expect things to get similarly mystic in Dublin.