The Stone Roses showed me the power of being an introvert
At boarding school in the early 90s, quietness was seen as weakness. But then I saw the band’s guitarist John Squire making a vast noise while hiding behind a fringe – and learned the strength of understatement In September 1991, I had just been thrown into the meat-grinder of a Midlands boarding school. In this bear pit, there were predators and there was prey. You were either the swaggering rugby alpha, whipping a…
Key points
- The writer, at a Midlands boarding school in September 1991, found confidence through the Stone Roses' debut album and guitarist John Squire.
- Squire's quiet, enigmatic persona showed the writer that being an introvert could be a strength in a world that prized loud confidence.
- The writer later interviewed Squire for Guitarist Magazine and found him thoughtful and witty, reinforcing the value of understatement.
A writer recalls how the Stone Roses' self-titled 1989 debut album helped him cope with the social pressures of a Midlands boarding school in September 1991. In an environment where loud confidence was king, he felt dismissed for being quiet. Seeing guitarist John Squire's understated image and hearing his expressive playing changed that.
The writer, who later became a music journalist, describes how Squire's enigmatic style showed him that quietness could be charismatic and suited to a life in the arts. He says the band also led him to a secret society of indie kids at school and inspired him to pick up the guitar.
A model of quiet charisma
The writer had assumed Squire must be an extrovert showman, but the CD inlay revealed a skinny, streetwear-clad figure hiding behind a fringe. Reading back issues of NME turned him from fan to disciple. He cites Squire's answer to an interviewer about what the Roses were all about: "Love and hate. War and peace. Morecambe and Wise …"
Through Squire, the writer discovered painting, modern history, fashion and religion. Hearing the Roses at school also gave him entry into a group of indie kids who swapped albums and built each other's confidence.
Love and hate. War and peace. Morecambe and Wise …
— John Squire
Meeting the guitarist years later
When the writer drove to Squire's Cheshire farmhouse for Guitarist Magazine, he worried the musician would not speak. Instead, over an hour in his studio, Squire proved thoughtful, witty and profound. He signed the schoolboy-era guitar the writer had painted in a Pollock style and gave him a parting hug.
The writer concludes that Squire did not change him but stopped him fighting himself. He says that in today's attention economy, the guitarist seems cooler for existing on his own terms and leaving something to the imagination.
