Spike Island (2012)

- Fuck!
- Pen!
Come on!
Oh, yeah!
Come on, then, lads!
You all right?
My name's Gary Titchfield,
but everyone's always called me "Tits".
It's not the best nickname in the world,
but, you know, it's mine.
I like to think I make it work for me.
The kid next to me is me best mate, Dodge.
And the rest of the lads are me group.
We was a gang before we were a band,
and we were a band
before we picked up any instruments.
Know what I mean?
We were Shadow Caster,
and this is our story.
Top one!
Friday, the 25th of May, 1990.
Two days before Ian Brown, John Squire,
Alan "Reni" Wren, and Gary "Mani" Mounfield
would define an era
on the chemical banks of the dirty Mersey.
To us, The Stone Roses
were the most important band
on the face of the planet.
Will you use the fucking stairs!
Get a fucking house.
Put some clothes on, you're already late.
Right, right. I'm on it, I'm on it. Fuck!
We already knew
that Spike Island was going to be
the most important gig
in the history of the world.
Oi! Stop playing with yourself!
You need to copy that shit out.
What is it?
Chemistry, mate. Double important.
Come on, then. We're gonna be late.
The Stone Roses smacked me
in the dial like a fucking prize fighter.
And even though they looked like
they could have come
right off our estate, the Red Bricks,
there was just something
different about them.
I mean, they were just like everyone else,
except fucking cooler.
We walked like 'em, we talked like 'em,
we felt like 'em, and we thought like 'em.
They had double top hair
and we wanted to be 'em.
Wanted 'em to lift us out of the shit
and the grime and take us to their planet.
No one say fuck-all. Stay cool.
- Fuck!
So, what is Manchester?
JB Priestley said that
"Manchester is the home of living causes"
and "What Manchester thinks today,
England thinks tomorrow."
Mind-blowingly brilliant observations,
I'm sure you'll all agree.
However, clearly nowhere near as fascinating
as what's going on outside the window.
What are your thoughts, boys?
No idea who it was, Mr Milligan.
We was nowhere
near the school gym last night.
Really?
Methinks he doth protest too much.
You look nervous, lads.
I can't think why.
I was only talking about
Priestley's Manchester.
It ain't Priestley's Manchester, sir.
It's ours.
Yeah!
It's the cock of the north, man.
Yeah! Top one, nice one!
You're twisting my melon, man!
And in the context of English Journey?
On any journey, sir. It ain't where
you're from, it's where you're at.
And is that your philosophy?
No, sir. It's a quote.
From somebody relevant.
Yeah, the greatest writer
of this generation.
Really? And who is that?
Just a singer in a band.
Well, may I remind you,
this isn't a music lesson.
This, in case you're unaware,
is English History.
Yeah, and The Stone Roses
are England now, sir.
See, the past is yours,
but the future's mine.
- Yeah.
Manchester, la la la!
Manchester, la la la! Manchester, la la la!
Oi! Chuckle Brothers. Sit down.
Sit down!
Sit down!
All right, stop!
Hammer time!
Gary Titchfield and his band
of merry men, please.
Ooh!
Settle down! Settle down!
I have never seen
such mindless, wilful destruction before!
Well?
I can't wait to hear
what you've got to say for yourselves!
Everyone knows you did it.
No, we never.
Someone read that for me.
Shadow Cast-re.
Which, unless I'm much mistaken,
is the name of your pop group.
No. We're Shadow Cast-er.
So, who was it, then?
Fans?
Fans? You haven't got any fans.
You're not The Palaver.
The Palavers are bobbins, sir.
We have got fans.
Classrooms! Fast!
Come on, lads, I'm not a dickhead.
There's only one bunch
of boys in this school
daft enough to write
their own band name on the wall.
And there's only one young man
just plain stupid enough to spell it wrong.
Dodge ain't stupid, sir.
He's a straight-up musical genius.
And Tits was at the hospital last night.
Your loyalty to each other
is actually quite admirable.
Your lack of loyalty to this school,
on the other hand, disgusts me.
Do you really want to end up
like your brothers?
Where are they now?
Ibiza.
Having it right off.
Last chance.
No more shenanigans.
Any more nonsense from any one of you,
and, bang, gone!
The lot of you, one out, all out!
Now go! I'm sick of looking at you!
Gary, not you.
How's your dad doing?
Yeah, he's all right. Getting better.
Good.
Now, listen, Gary,
unlike the others, you're a bright lad,
so you don't need me to
spell it out for you.
This was criminal damage,
and the only reason
I haven't involved the police
is out of respect for your family.
I know how easy it is to get led astray
and I know things
must be difficult at home at the moment.
No, you don't, Mr Jackson.
You don't know nish
about me or me mates.
Or my family. So just leave it.
For fuck's sake, boys! Wait up!
- What did Wacko Jacko want?
- Nowt. It's right.
I can't believe
we just fucking got away with that.
I can't believe I've got to rely
on you tools not to get expelled.
Fuck that. I still can't believe
we haven't got our tickets for Sunday.
We should've just bought 'em.
With what? Oh, aye, I forgot.
Your mum had a result on the pools.
Did she?
- Did she fuck. It's your mam.
- Look, it'll be right.
Yeah, right.
You keep saying that.
Because it will. Trust me.
I do. It's Keith Teeth that's the problem.
The guy's a pure tube.
I don't reckon he could get us tickets
for the one-three-five, man.
He could, however,
eat an apple through a tennis racquet.
He's got 'em, right?
Swore on his mum's life.
See? Listen to Tits. He knows everything.
Anyway, he's fucking all right, Keith Teeth.
He's fucking all wrong.
Zippy, look me in the eyes, man.
When have I ever let you down?
Oi! I said look me in the eyes.
Sally Harris.
Oh! Lisa Hughes!
Fuck's sake, nobody jizz their pants.
Yeah, let's do it. Get in there, man.
- Upstairs, man, sharpish!
- We fucking are!
Oh, shit!
Where'd you get them?
Piccadilly Records. What about you?
I bet yous haven't
even got tickets.
We'll be backstage. VIPs.
How come? Is your brother back
or something, Tits?
- No. - It's where they lob
all the acid casualties.
No. It's where the cool
kids get sucked off.
- Oh.
- You're jibbin' it, aren't you?
You little scally twats.
No, we're getting 'em tomorrow.
Serious? You lot are paying for something?
- Where you getting them?
- Keith Teeth.
- Keith Teeth?
Yeah, right. Like that'll happen.
Keith Teeth's a mong.
It's been sold out for time. You're goosed.
- How's your dad?
- Yeah. He's not bad.
Buzzing.
Little Gaz,
is it true you're selling weed?
- What're you after?
- Fivers. Can you change that?
Yeah. I can change it
into a bigger lump of draw.
- Oh, come on!
- I've got no change.
For fuck's sake, go on.
Greetings, Earthlings.
What time's praccy tonight?
Are we recording?
Recording what?
- Demo.
- What of? How to be spackers?
Demo tape.
- Is it any good?
- Of course!
We're the second best band in the world.
No one's heard it.
Dodge has been a proper tape Nazi.
He won't play it to no one.
Yeah, he will. When it's finished.
And when it is, it'll be smart.
You should take it to Spike Island,
give it to the Roses.
When you're backstage.
Laters.
Until Sally I was never happy
I needed so much more
Rain clouds, oh, they used to chase me
Down they would pour
Sent to me from heaven
Sally Cinnamon, you're my world
You do know you're never going
to bang Sally, don't you, Dodge?
He'd have to talk to her first,
or at least finger her.
Oh, you don't know what you're talking
about. None of you understand.
I do! Get her juiced up and that.
Oi, don't be snide. Leave him alone.
It's different with Sally.
She makes me feel like...
She makes me feel like writing tunes.
That is the gayest thing I've ever heard.
She makes me feel like bumming her.
No, wait.
That's the gayest thing I've ever heard.
- See you in a bit, boys.
- See you later.
Oi, it's not that bad of an idea, you know.
- What ain't?
- What Sally said.
If we get on it now and we record
praccy tonight and tomoz,
we can get the tape finished for Sunday,
take it to Spike Island.
Yeah.
No point in always banging on about summat
if you're never going to do
fuck-all about it, is there?
We are gonna get in, aren't we?
Yeah, of course. It'll be right.
Wish your Ste was here.
Yeah, well, he's not.
- What's up with you?
It's too fast and choppy and there's
not really a proper melody to it.
Sounds like The fucking Fall.
It's not that bad.
It's not perfect.
We ain't got time to dick about.
It don't matter.
Of course it fucking matters.
It's the only thing that does matter.
I've got to get off.
Part-timer.
What?
Nowt. I'll have it bang off
by the time you get back, right.
Fuck! Jesus wept.
I sound like that bloody Vauxhall Viva
that we had to leave in Aberystwyth.
It's not right, you know, the two of
you laughing like this. You're sick.
...It's not bloody funny.
No. No, it's not.
And I wouldn't wish it on anyone.
Well, maybe Maggie Thatcher.
- So, how're you feeling?
- Oh.
Like I've swallowed a blow torch
and it's stuck here.
- Well, you look better.
Take us to the TV room, will you, son?
I'm dying for a fag.
- He'll meet you there.
- Oh, come on.
- He'll... He'll meet you there.
You won't remember this,
but he used to sing to you.
Ewan MacColl, Father's Song.
Big filthy hands all over you,
just after I'd bathed you in the sink.
He was tone bloody deaf.
Mum.
Is Dad... Is he... Is he all right?
He's very poorly, Gary.
Things need to be talked about.
You know, with you and the stall.
When he's, um...
He's been working out
how to tell you this for weeks.
Excitement is building across the
country, with only two days to go
before Manchester band, The Stone Roses,
take to the stage at Spike Island
in what promises to be
the most important gig of their careers.
How big do you think
The Stone Roses will get?
I think we could be the biggest band ever.
- Really?
- Yeah.
The event will take place
in the industrial town of Widnes,
where preparations
are already well underway.
The concert sold out over a month ago,
- and tickets are now like gold dust.
- Mum, do you want owt?
It's already being touted
as a Woodstock
for the Manchester generation.
Eat it quick.
If Godzuki wakes up, she'll have it away.
Over 30,000 fans
are expected to convene
on the banks of the Mersey this Sunday
at the gig's controversial venue,
an unlikely spot in the shadow
of a chemical and power plant.
Police are warning fans without tickets
to stay away from the event,
promising to deal forcibly
with any attempts to gain entry illegally.
The group provoked more controversy
earlier this year
after a fierce dispute
with their old record-label boss,
who accuses the band
of attacking him with paint.
Don't want to talk about it any more.
It's just one day out.
Common criminals.
And you want to be like them?
I did what you wanted.
- I signed the forms.
- Good.
Army's best place for you.
Or do you think you're better than me?
Please.
Don't make me get upset.
If anyone hadda told me at your age
that I was gonna be a florist,
I'd have had their bumps felt.
But it's a job.
And you'd learn to love flowers.
And your Uncle Hairy. Eventually.
Do I get to choose?
About the stall?
Yeah.
Of course.
You've always got a choice, lad.
I can't force you to do anything
that you don't want to do.
And don't ever let anyone tell you
that they can. Ever.
Then I can't do it, Dad.
I want to be someone,
make summat of my life.
- All right, Tits?
- All right, Jay?
- All right?
- Yeah, yeah, sorted.
- What do this team of remmies want?
- Just having a listen and that.
Who cut your fringe? Mr Magoo?
No. Me mam.
And what the fuck are them kicks?
Adidas four-stripe?
Whatever they are, get
them off our path. Fast.
- You all right, Voodoo Ray?
- All right, boys?
Voodoo, Voodoo Ray, Ray
Hey, hey
A-ha
Ah, ah, ah, yeah
How's your kid, Tits?
What? Yeah. Sound. Still in Ibiza.
No, he's on the Red Bricks.
Drove past him teatime.
He was going in the Dark Side.
Going to bounce on down there now.
In a bit, yeah?
- In a bit.
- Sweet, that's our tickets sorted.
- Yeah, what about the tape?
- What about you stop being gay?
Come on, then, bum chums.
What's he done to you this time?
You all right?
Yeah. Are you?
Yeah.
- He's a dick.
- He's my dad.
And you want to be just like him?
It's done.
I'm going.
Don't tell the others.
Are you two fucking getting off
with each other over there, or what?
Someone buy us a drink?
'Ey-up, Skids!
- All right, Ste?
- Look at you, man! Come here.
- You all right?
- Yeah, man, I'm good.
Look at you, all fucking grown up.
What're you drinking, Baby Bio?
- When did you get back?
- Landed about half two.
Here y'are, budgie boy.
Best little fellas in Europe, these.
What about me mum and dad?
I'll sort 'em out with a pill each
when I see 'em next.
What are you on about, you ball bag?
I mean, have you been to the hospital?
No, not yet.
Visiting hours are over now, aren't they?
I'll go up there tomorrow.
He's not good, Ste.
Really not good.
Has Mum rung you?
Couple of weeks ago.
Is that why you're back?
And to see you.
And the Roses, man.
D'you think I'd miss that?
No, of course not. You got a ticket?
Have I, bollocks.
Guest-listed up to fuck, aren't I?
What about yous? Do you need me
to sort out a jib or are you right?
No, we're right.
Getting 'em tomoz, off Keith Teeth.
- Keith Teeth?
- Yeah. What?
No, he's all right, Keith Teeth.
Set of Newtons like a fucked fence,
but he's a good lad.
'Ere y'are. Show 'em what you can do.
I'll play you a little bit of intro, yeah?
Top one, bro.
What's this, amateur night?
No, I was fucking playing
that, Dave Famous!
You can have it back
when you've been signed.
Like we just have.
- Hey, Dave!
What a massive bell-end!
Listen, our kid.
I know things have been a proper
nightmare for you, but I'm here now.
So I don't want you
to worry about fuck-all, right?
Here y'are.
Right, you pricks, shut up and dance!
Now let's go bananas.
What's up with you?
Guess who's just got a record deal?
Are you taking the piss?
Who are these cunts?
- The Palaver.
- They're all right, aren't they?
No! Fucking placcy Manc band!
Guitarist only knows three chords.
Basic ones. No barre chords.
Every tune has the same progression.
He couldn't pick his fucking nose.
Right. Do you want a pill?
Yeah.
- Now then, Nimrod.
- Hi, there.
- What news from the continent?
- Sound, mate. Sound.
It's time to go
I'm here taking shelter,
weathering the storm
Oh, why won't you leave me alone?
Oi, don't let 'em see
that you're arsed, man.
Hey, come up!
All right, fuck it!
Oh, oh, oh
Oh, you always drag me down
Fucking come on!
It's time to go
I'm here taking shelter,
weathering the storm
Oh, why won't you leave me alone?
Well, I know I'm better off without you
I'm better on my own
Oh
You still at it?
Don't forget Keith Teeth. 3:00, yeah?
Here, don't stop. I nearly had it then.
It's like an hour-old mouse.
Just give us a minute, will you, lad?
Ah, no. Fuck's sake. It's gone. It's gone.
Nice one, Tits.
Right, you'd better get dressed.
I've got to go to work.
Are you as fucked as I am?
You do know that tomorrow's massive,
don't you, eh?
It's history in the making, innit?
I've had a pathetic vision.
- So are you going?
- 'Course I fucking am.
I was dragged up on punk, son.
It's not punk! It's baggy. Scallydelia.
Right, for a start, are you a backward?
Them are made-up words.
I'm talking about attitude.
Ian Brown is John Lydon times 10.
- Have you got a ticket?
- Have I, bollocks!
You been up the hozzie?
Not fair, is it?
Your dad's a shining diamond, man.
And I know I can still be
a bit of a mither and all that,
but I'll work hard for you.
No, you won't.
I'll give it a fucking good go.
No, I mean you won't be working for me.
Fuck!
Fuck!
Keith Teeth! The tickets!
Five lighters. Five lighters.
Five for a quid. Five for a quid.
All right? Gary?
Aye, aye! We're on. I'll do one.
Where you going?
"Gary"?
I just think "Tits" doesn't sound
all that... sophisticated.
It's not the best nickname in the world,
but, you know, it is mine.
Like to think I make it work for me.
Anyway, "Gary" just sounds weird now.
Are you with your mam?
Yeah, she's just looking
at stuff over there.
Top one.
Might as well have some flowers,
seeing as I'm here and all that.
Who are they for?
Wouldn't you like to know?
I'll chuck in a few good ones.
- Lovely.
- It will be.
Have you got your tickets yet?
What time is it?
It's just gone 3:00.
Should be meeting Keith Teeth now.
It'll be right. He's all
right, Keith Teeth.
It suits you, you know,
the whole market-trader vibe.
What, like St Eric of Salford?
Think that's all I want to be, me dad?
Soz.
No, I should, erm, probably head off.
What do I owe you for the flowers?
Nish. You can have 'em for fuck-all.
Just don't ever let anyone tell you
I'm a tight-arse.
I'd never hear a bad word said.
Here y'are!
- All right, girls?
- All right, lads?
Seen Keith Teeth?
No, soz.
What, he's not let you down, has he?
No way, didn't see that coming.
Spike Island outfit.
Do you want to buy any sunglasses?
Do you want to buy
any squidgy black?
Have you heard about the trains?
I think so. Are they the big, noisy things
that run along tracks?
You can't get into the station
or through the turnstiles to the platforms
without a ticket for the gig.
Security are going to be checking 'em
on Station Approach.
And they're closing the roads
four square mile of Widnes.
You can't even get on to the site
without crossing the Mersey.
Only way in is on the official coaches.
You lot look caned to fuck.
We got pilled up last
night in the Dark Side.
With Ibiza Ste and all the older heads.
- It was banging.
- I'd give you a proper banging.
So, what? Is Ibiza Ste back, then?
Yeah.
- Is he going to Spike Island?
- Yeah.
Are all the big boys going?
Yeah. And we're going with them.
Fuck me, it speaks!
So, are you going to find me
in Widnes then, or what?
Yeah, all right, yeah.
When you get inside, find the sound desk.
Be on the left hand side, facing the stage.
- Right...
- No, left.
Be there by 7:00, yeah?
Yeah.
Nice one.
I mean, I'll be with Dodge
and that lot, so...
Yeah, I know. 'Course you will.
And I'll be with the girls.
- Is Sally not about?
- No.
Is she still going tomorrow, though?
Yeah, of course. What about Tits?
Yeah. Of course.
Sound.
So, we should meet up or summat?
You fucking know that, sugar tits?
"Sugar tits"?
How will you find us?
You'll find us. We'll stand out.
Mega.
- Be at the main gate.
- Buzzing.
Oh, look, there's Keith Teeth.
Quality! You actually think
he's coming, don't you?
Yeah, he said he swore
on his mum's life and all that.
His mam's dead.
Why didn't Tits just get
Ste to sort you out?
- Hey!
- Quick!
- Come here!
- Come on!
Right, I'll see you, Gary Titchfield.
See you, Sally Cinnamon.
You do know that's a love song?
Yeah. But about a lesbian.
Yeah.
- You fucking naused that right up.
- What?
She's bang into you. And she's fit.
No, she ain't.
Yeah, she is. All right, ladies?
Been to see Dad yet?
I'm on me way up there now.
I just need a word with Hairy Bollocks
about a few things first.
Yeah, sound.
Keith Teeth ain't coming, is he?
I told you Keith Teeth was a knob.
- Fuck!
- Yeah. Fuck. Goofy prick.
Listen, go back to the Red Bricks, right?
See if you can find the cunt.
I'll bell our Ste, see if he can
sort summat. It'll be right.
Ste? It's me. You're
probably in the hospital.
Listen...
Keith Teeth's let us down, mate.
We're fucked.
I've never asked you for owt before,
but you asked me if we needed an in
and, well, we do now,
so, I don't know,
just come and see me at the stall
or just stick your head
in the garage later or summat.
...Fuck!
Shit! Mate, the pips have gone.
I hope me dad's...
Gates, fences, dibble, security guards.
Fucking rivers that soppy Scousers
sing soppy songs about.
None of who are going to stop us
from getting in. Nothing is.
We blag, we lie, we climb,
we rush the barrier, we fucking swim.
All we got to do is make sure
that we get inside somewhere
we ain't supposed to be.
When's that ever been a problem for us?
Christmas Eve.
When Zippy fingered that 12-year-old.
She was 14.
Yeah, 14 times too fucking young
to be fingered.
- Do you think it'll come to that?
- What, fingering 12-year-olds?
No, I don't. I think our Ste
will come through with tickets.
Or put our names on the gate.
So it'll be right, Tits, yeah?
We've got to go to the gate anyway
to meet the girls for our date.
- He hasn't got a date.
- I have.
- Who with?
- Me and Dodge.
Pardon?
We've got a double date
with Lisa and Sally.
- Sally Harris?
- Yeah.
- Since when?
- Since this afternoon.
We've seen Rachel Stone
and Lisa Hughes in Afflecks.
We said we'd meet them
at the gate. With Sally.
No, it's just... Sally said she was
going to be at the sound desk at 7:00.
Left-hand side, facing the stage.
When did she say that?
Today. At the stall.
- She come to see you?
- Yeah.
Well, no. She was shopping with her mam.
We arranged to meet up.
All of us. Don't have to.
Just thought you'd be into it.
Tit-ular, you're a fucking genius!
Quality! He properly thinks
he might get off with her.
I'm definitely gonna finger someone.
You know what? I'm not all that fucking
arsed even if I got to settle for Rachel.
Here y'are, Dodge, you could always play
her one of your 85 fucking love songs.
Every new tune he's working on,
he's written for her.
I think Rachel's lovely.
For fuck's sake, boys, let's not lose
focus at the first sight of fanny.
The most important thing
is seeing the band.
And trying to give them the demo.
Just one last take each to box me
and Tits off on Ten Mile Smile, yeah?
You know what, can we just play
it together then, for once?
I'm forgetting what it's like
to actually be in a band.
Yeah, but we need to do...
Mate, the Roses recorded Resurrection
in one take, for fuck's sake.
Come on!
Oh, another tune
about Sally Harris.
- No, it ain't.
- "Ten Mile Smile"? It's obvious!
It's not. Tits wrote these lyrics.
One, two...
Hearing this? One, two.
...Hello? Fucking hell.
I don't do requests.
One, two, three, four.
Sending me some distant place
On nights when I'm lying awake
Nights when I dream of escape
At times when I'm stunned
And I feel so amazed
She's someone so pure
Something so sure
And I will take my chance
She's got a ten-mile smile
Passion running wild
And I can transcend this whole world
Looking in her eyes
I know that you see what I see
And I'll bring this work
And this world to its knees
Someone so pure
Something so sure
And I will take my chance
She's got a ten-mile smile
Passion running wild
And I can transcend this whole world
Looking in her eyes
Ah, ah, ah, ah
Fucking check us out.
Top bricks on the chimney.
Ten mile high on Ten Mile Smile there.
It was one of them pure moments,
you know what I mean?
It felt like me and me four mates
could take on the world
in a straight one-on-one fist fight
and spark it out.
Got a ten-mile smile
A ten-mile smile
A ten-mile smile
A ten-mile smile
Shit! Soz.
Fuck me, that was special!
Play the fucker back, then!
All of it! The whole demo!
Whoo!
That was fucking ace, man!
Sounds like a real band!
Zips, we are a real band.
Got to tell you, Penfold, mate,
you sound fucking sorted on it.
What are you talking about?
You can't even hear me!
- Bingo!
- It's not perfect, though.
Yeah, it is.
See! Nice one, lads.
What the fuck do these two know, anyway?
We know that you're the best band
on the Red Bricks.
- What about The Palaver?
- Don't rate 'em.
They think they're the Mondays,
but they're wank.
Tell 'em what we call 'em, Jay.
The Baggy Undies.
Anyway, what kind of name is The Palaver?
Who names a group after a fruit meringue?
The guitarist's shit and all.
He only knows three chords.
Right then, we're taking it with us.
Do you seriously think
we can give it to the Roses?
I seriously think we can try, yeah.
Where is Spike Island, anyway?
It's near Widnes, innit?
- Where's that?
- Near Liverpool, innit?
- Where's that?
- About 30-odd miles up the East Lancs Road.
Where's the East Lancs Road?
Right, this could easily go on all night.
How are we gonna get there?
- I could drive.
- Drive what?
Herd of cattle. A fucking
car, you bell-end.
I've got a better idea. Follow me.
- I'm not driving that.
- Yeah, you are.
It's perfect. It's so
cognito, it's incognito.
It's what?
Gary! Look sharp!
What's up, Mum?
The hospital.
At this time?
- Come with me, he'll want you.
- But, Mum...
Is Ste there?
- Our Steven?
- Yeah.
No, of course not. Why?
Didn't even know he was in the country.
He got back yesterday.
Where is he now?
Don't know.
Find him and bring him to me.
I want you both close.
For how long?
What do you mean, "for how long"?
It's just, you know, Spike Island!
What, the Guns N' Roses concert?
No, you can't go!
- But I've been waiting months to go...
- Things change!
- But you said I could go!
- It don't matter what I said!
That was before.
Before what?
Just find your brother.
Soon!
All right, Tits?
All right, Carlos?
What the fuck, Ste?
What?
I got your message. I'm on it.
I was coming to see you.
- What about me dad?
- Yeah, I know.
It's just, I've been running round
like a dick all day
trying to sort you a guest list out.
Anyway, I think I've boxed it off.
Worst comes to worst,
I'll just word up security when I get there.
But you're deffo in.
What're you fucking staring at?
Over here.
I can't do it. All right?
Fucking hospitals and that.
I can't see him like that, Tits.
It's too hard, mate.
What, you think it's easy for me?
Going up there every day,
watching it eat him?
It's not, mate.
It's the hardest thing in the world.
But you need to get down there now.
Right.
How long are you staying, Ste?
I'll just bang this pint down.
No, I mean in Manchester. Are you back?
Here you are, girls. For food and that.
Be good. Try not to wind her up, yeah?
I love you both.
What's going on?
Never mind that.
Come on, out the way, knobhead!
Where is it?
Dad? I left it to dry on the radiator.
I need my T-shirt.
I'm going to Spike Island.
No. I'm going to be taking orders
from twats for the rest of my life.
I'm not taking any more from you.
I don't want you to go.
Dad, I know you're not well,
and I love you and all,
but if you don't get out of my way now, I
swear to God I'll bite your fucking nose off!
I'm sorry, Dad.
Why? What've you done?
Nowt. Just...
Getting off? Don't worry about me.
- But...
- Your mam still here?
- Yeah. She's asleep.
- I'll be all right, then.
Go on.
Have a good day.
- I don't have to.
- Yeah, you do.
- Dad...
- Don't say it, son.
There's no need.
I'm going nowhere. Promise.
I love you, Dad.
Here he is.
- Here he is.
- I overslept.
- You're a knob.
- No, I'm not. Fuck you.
Where the fuck have you been?
I met with our Ste.
Had a bit of a mad night. Soz.
You absolute fucking wanker.
- But he's got us on the guest list.
- You absolute fucking diamond.
Come on.
Where's your Roses tee?
It was still wet.
Mate, look, you've got dog shit
all over your trousers, lad. You have!
Zip!
Come on, then.
- Stick that on, then.
- Fuck him.
- Are you sure?
Shit, he's in there, I can hear him.
I can fucking smell him.
What the fuck do we do now?
Has anyone seen E. T.?
Fuck off!
Fucking pants!
Shh!
...Shh.
Ready?
Go!
Zip, you know where we're going?
Yeah. Been there with my dad
on a bit of work. It's fuck-all away.
Shall we get out of this shithole then,
or what?
...Go, go, go, go, go!
Oi!
- Go, go, go!
Burn rubber, Zips!
Hey, check what he's got.
What is it? Fucking... Methadone!
Oh, he's a wrong 'un, him,
a wrong 'un, mate.
It fucking stinks in here.
- Whoa!
- Where's Harold?
- Who the fuck's Harold?
- It's his van.
- Pull over, Zippy.
I am! Take a chill pill!
I thought she was all right.
I think you're quite unwell.
- Go, go, go, go, go!
- Sorry, love!
Here y'are, stick that on, Tits.
- Is that the demo?
- No...
This is the demo,
but it's not coming out again until
I'm banging it in the hands of Stone Roses.
Actually, fuck that, Tits. You take it.
Guard it with your life.
Nice one.
Soak me to my skin
Will you drown me in your sea?
Submission ends and I begin
Choke me, smoke the air
In this citrus sucking sunshine
I don't care, you're not all there
Every backbone and heart you break
Will still come back for more
Submission ends it all
We come flying out of the Red Bricks
and hit the road out of town,
with a cockpit full of weed smoke
and pockets full of E's and speed.
Absolutely buzzing our nuts off.
We were leaving Manchester
and a world of shite behind. We all were.
Just for one day, anyway.
You know what? Despite everything,
it felt fucking all right, man.
Bye-bye, bad man
Bye-bye
- Ooh, look!
- Wow. How fucking camp was that?
Look at what?
- Warrington.
- Ace. What about it?
Ian Brown's birthplace.
They should erect a statue.
I'd like to erect a statue.
In Lisa Hughes' fanny!
What exactly
are you doing there?
Slipping her one.
- Slipping a fucking disc.
- Oh, we should take a detour.
I'd like to take a detour...
To Lisa Hughes' fanny!
Yeah, he's never even seen a fanny.
Except when he looks in the mirror!
Hit him, Little Gaz.
We're nearly there now, anyway.
What? How?
I ain't even seen a sign for Widnes yet.
Widnes?
They sound the same.
What? Like "you dick" and "you prick"?
Who's the driver?
This goon.
Right. Did you not bring a map?
- No.
- Did you not look at a map?
- No.
- Right.
Well, this is you...
This is Widnes, and this is the M6.
It's going to be your little friend.
You want to take him south to junction 21A,
get on the M62 towards Liverpool,
junction 10.
Follow the signs from there,
Bob's your uncle, fanny's a rude word.
Thanks, Suzanne.
- Pleasure. Going to Spike Island?
- Yeah.
I'll keep my eyes peeled for you.
Especially for you.
Oh, and do us a favour, will you?
Tell your thieving little bastard mates
to put everything back,
else I'll lock the door
and get the Dobermans in.
That was your fault, Dodge.
How d'you work that one out?
She's seen the box
fall out of your tracky top.
What was you robbing
Tampax for, anyway?
I didn't know what they were,
I couldn't read it, could I?
I thought they were
individually wrapped biscuits.
Roses!
Hey, hey, Spike Island!
We'll be there shortly!
- Here y'are, Zippy, turn it in.
- What're you on about?
You can't tap your feet
while they're on the pedals.
- I'm not!
- Then what the fuck are you doing?
- Nish and klish.
- Then why's the van spazzing out?
- I don't know.
- Shut it. Turn the tunes off.
It doesn't sound well.
Might be a daft question,
but have we got any juice in it?
Yeah. It was full this morning.
- What?
Fuck! You're joking me!
- Fuck!
- Fuck!
Fucking fuck!
Word!
We can't hang about here.
- What the fuck's he doing?
- Climbing the van, clearly.
- Why?
- Reconnaissance.
What?
If we walk six fields northwest,
there's a motorway running perpendicular.
I think it has to be the M6.
Come on!
Are we really following this retard?
What about the van?
I've remembered its position.
I'll watch your van for a tenner!
You can watch my arse disappear
for fuck-all, you cheeky twat.
Right, come on, back on the bus.
...Shh!
Spike Island!
Oh!
- Dirty bastard!
Zippy. Please tell me that's not your cock
digging in my back.
I can't help it, it's the vibrations!
- For fuck's sake!
- We're slowing down.
- We must be nearly there.
Thank fuck for that. I
think I've broke my arse.
Someone's arse deffo ain't working right,
or they've been eating rats.
- Get your Stone Roses T-shirts!
- T-shirts!
I pray
Give me joy in my heart, keep me praying
Keep me praying till the end of day
- Have we stopped?
- Yeah.
Whatever happens, we stay together.
Three, two, one.
Hey! What do you think I use wing
mirrors for, you little toe rags!
Come on, Pen, leg it!
Shit! Where's Penfold?
- Fucks knows!
- Pen?
He couldn't have gone far.
Just look for his sun hat.
Pen! Penfold!
Penfold!
Pen-is!
Pen-is, where are you?
- Penfold!
- Ah, steady!
- Penfold!
- Pen!
- Penfold!
- Pen-is!
Pen-is, where are you?
Ah, fuck that, man.
Let's head down to the main gate.
Reni hats! Get your Reni hats here!
Get your fucking Reni hats here!
Go on, Manchester!
Roses souvenir posters! Two for a tenner.
He's got no shirt on!
Hot dogs! Free ketchup or Ian Brown sauce!
You can see the gate from there.
Yeah.
Here we go, lads! Fucking Mersey paradise!
Rights, boys, let's have it!
Right, tickets out, please.
Go 'head, Bananarama, straight in!
- Here y'are, sweet cheeks, get in there!
- It's Bez!
- Do the dance!
- Go ahead, lad, do it.
Oh! You're in, you're in!
- Mate, hang on, how old are you?
- Eighteen.
Eighteen? I've got porn
mags older than you!
Cheese and Marmite together?
On the same butty? That's fucking repellent.
- Can I have it back, then?
- No. Get to fuck, go on.
- You all right, mate?
- I'm not your mate. Tickets.
Should be on the guest list.
Yeah, and I should be on the telly, lad.
Here you are, Sid, get on these.
Go ahead, whose list?
- Ibiza Ste's.
- Who the fuck is Ibiza Ste?
- My brother.
- Why d'you call him that?
'Cause we've got the same mum and dad.
I mean "Ibiza Ste"?
All right, 'cause he lives in Ibiza
and his name's Ste.
Oh, yeah, got it. Nice one, yeah.
Boss name.
Yeah, he's a Manc legend!
A Manc leg-end, no less.
Well, welcome
to fucking Merseyside, son.
We don't know no Ibiza Ste
and he hasn't got no fucking guest list.
Yeah, well, try Red Bricks Ste? He used
to live there before he moved to Ibiza.
Stop it, will you?
You'll ruin it for me
when his autobiography comes out.
Try the Roses. Mani.
I sort him out with hair gel.
...Go ahead, what's your names?
Gary Titchfield, Darren Hodge, Chris Weeks,
Gareth Barret and Andrew Peach.
No. You're not down.
- Try Shadow Caster. We're a band.
- Fuck off!
Mate, we're a support band.
Oh, the support band.
Oh, sorry, lads, in that case...
Fuck off!
No tickets, no guest list,
no entry, no chance.
Now fucking yabba-dabba-do one, dickheads!
Go 'head, move! Do one, you beaut!
- Well, that went well. - Can't believe
he's never heard of Ibiza Ste.
- I can.
- There's got to be a fuck-up.
Yeah, there is. He's called Ste.
- Hands in the air, put your tickets up.
- So what are we gonna do now, then, Tits?
Get in.
Let's just fucking rush it, man.
Yeah? On my count, right.
One, two...
Three. For fuck's sake,
who runs on "two"?
No one runs on "two".
Whoa, whoa, whoa!
They're charging, Dave!
Get out! Go on! And you!
And you, Granddad, get off!
Get back!
This is our bridge!
Fucking hippies.
Let that be a lesson to all of you.
- Yes!
- Here we go!
- Liverpool 2, Man U...
- Nil!
Have it!
What d'you reckon?
I'm not fucking swimming in that. No.
I wonder what time it is.
We've got to meet the girls.
Nearly 3:45.
What the fuck was that?
Some sort of animal?
Here y'are, lads,
d'you wanna buy a dinghy ride?
- What did he just say?
- Fuck knows.
"Dez-a-by-diggy-bat"?
D'yous wanna buy a dinghy ride?
I'm still not getting it.
Soz, mate, it's just white noise.
Oh, for fuck's sake.
Oh! Do we want to buy a dinghy?
A dinghy ride! I row yous!
- Where's your oars?
- Side of me head!
- No, you're all right, mate.
- Let's just do one.
- Do yous want to buy a dinghy ride?
- What?
- He'll row you. For cash. With no oars.
- Sound!
- How much?
- Fiver each.
- Here.
- It's right.
Oh, mate, I'm watching this!
Come on, come on, hurry up! Hurry up!
Would you get in a boat
with this prick?
- Easy! Easy!
- Wouldn't even get in a lift with him.
I'm the captain on this ship.
Just don't do nothing. Leave it to me.
Ah! It's going to tip if you do that.
...Can't swim!
We should probably get back
to the main gate, you know.
Penfold might be waiting for us.
Might even see the girls turn up.
Or Ibiza Ste.
Oh, here we go, look who it is.
All right, Tits?
All right, Dave Famous?
- Got tickets?
- Have you?
Have you?
- No, neither have we.
- Supposed to be on the list, but...
So were we, but...
Listen, Dave, let's cut the bollocks, yeah?
We all know you think
we're shit dickheads, yeah?
Well, we think you're double shit dickheads.
But we're both bang into the Roses, so...
If one of us spots a jib, we should
probably give each other a shout or summat.
- All right, sound.
- Sound. In a bit.
In bits.
State of that tracksuit.
He looks like a fucking Smurf!
Come on, hurry up.
I could see right up her skirt then.
Do you know what I wish?
We had a Motorola.
Then we could ring Ste.
Or the girls, but they'd
have to have one, too.
Do you know what I wish?
Go ahead, it's getting good, this game.
You'd sorted it out with your kid properly
last night, Tits,
instead of getting fucking caned
or whatever you did.
Shall I tell you what I
done last night, Dodge?
What?
I sat with me mam, waiting
for me dad to die.
Yeah, I sat with me mam, and waited
for my useless prick of a brother
to sort out leaving a fucking pub
and come to the hospital.
But he never managed that. So shut the
fuck up about him sorting us out.
The guy's a dick,
and you're doing me fucking head in.
But you told me he was all right,
you told me he was getting better.
This isn't fucking about you, Dodge.
What's that supposed to mean?
Nothing. I...
I just mean we come here
for one fucking reason, right?
To see The Stone Roses,
so can we please stop pissing
and moaning and get on
with trying to get in.
Oi, Tits!
Tits! Listen, man!
Tits!
- Are you all right?
- No, not really.
I've just been
wandering around on my own like a lemon.
I lost the girls coming over the bridge.
Why didn't you just go in?
What? I don't know.
There's, like, 20-odd thousand heads
in there and...
I had a quarter of an acid on the train
and I got a bit para.
You said you'd be there.
Left-hand side of the stage.
Yeah, but it doesn't matter anyway,
I can just come in with yous lot.
If that's all right?
We still haven't got tickets.
Oh, shit!
Yeah. Shit.
Well, I am not going in there on my own.
What? You'll miss the Roses?
Well, one of yous lot could have my ticket.
- I'll have it.
- Behave.
What? I said it first.
Shouldn't we toss a coin
or have an arm-wrestle or summat?
It's about the music, innit?
I'm the only one that understands it.
Come on, Tits, you know how much
this means to me, man.
Yeah. Yeah, I do.
There you are.
Nice one.
Right then, see you after here, yeah?
Mate! Dodge!
Take this with you.
What? Why? You said you'd do it.
You're the one who's going in, aren't you?
Yeah, but I'm not gonna get in backstage
on my own, am I, without you?
Yeah, well, get down the front, then, Dodge.
Just lob it at Ian or John.
I'd mong it into the mud.
You're a miles better thrower than me.
But I'm not going to hit
the fucking stage from out here, am I?
It'll be right. You'll get in. You keep it.
You know I'd fuck it up.
Listen, if you do get in,
meet me at the sound desk.
If not, I'll see you back after here, yeah?
Yeah.
Don't go fucking off without me.
Right, mate.
Sorted.
Yeah, mate, sorted as fuck.
Is, um... Is my make-up run?
- Just a smidge.
I must look like a right dog.
No, you don't. Like a really pretty panda.
Oi, Dave Famous! What are you saying?
- What are you saying?
- Let's not do this again. I can't be arsed.
Some kid just said
a mob have flattened the vehicle gate.
You can get across the bridge to them
fields next to the fence. In a bit!
Hey, up you get!
Tell you what,
I could do with a massive disco shit.
Oh, that's hanging.
Soz, but it's all
the whizz and excitement.
Whoa! Watch your three-stripes there.
It's probably radioactive.
- All right? Go on.
- Yeah.
- You up?
- Yeah.
- Fuck!
- Shit!
How thick do you think it is?
Don't know.
What are we gonna do now?
For fuck's sake. I don't have a clue.
Little cock-knockers!
What? Can you see owt?
No...
We'll still be able to hear it,
though, won't we?
It's a fucking nightmare, isn't it?
And as the sun went down
over the chemical plant,
the wind was blowing the sound
from inside the site in waves,
washing over us,
then fucking off down the estuary.
With Penfold missing in action,
and Dodge doing what he'd done,
we were suddenly two men down.
But we were one girl up.
And it was funny, man, because it had
always been about me and Dodge.
We'd always been on our own journey,
ever since we were nippers.
Fucking Batman and Robin,
you know what I mean?
But it wasn't just a massive fuck-off
metal green fence that had come between us.
I was on a different trip now.
The night was beautiful, special.
So was Sally Harris.
- And then we heard it.
The roar of cheers that told us
the Roses had walked on stage,
and the rumble of Mani's bass.
The greatest party in the history of
the world, and we weren't invited.
The Stone Roses
are on the other side of that wall.
Wish I were 10 feet taller.
Look, Gaz, give us a peg up.
I don't have to sell my soul
He's already in me
Yeah!
- Can you see?
- Yeah, mate!
- Is it top?
- Yeah, mate!
I wanna be adored
You adore me
You adore me
You adore me
- Can we swap?
- No, mate.
Hell, mate.
- Keep still!
- I can't! I'm off me tits!
Come here, you clown!
You mad bastard.
I wanna be adored
Yeah, mate!
I'm gonna say something.
He's taking the piss.
- Out of who?
- Dodge.
Are you being serious?
Yeah. He's supposed to be his best mate.
He is. Why do you think
he's never done it before, you clown?
- What?
- You must be fucking blind.
What's the matter?
Nothing. Dodge.
You do know you just
called me Dodge. That explains everything.
No, I mean...
Dodge is into you.
What?
He's...
He's never even spoke to me until tonight.
Yeah, I know. But I'm being serious.
He has been since we were little kids.
Right.
Shit. Okay.
What? And you haven't?
Zippy, Tits and Sally
was always gonna happen.
It's only right that it's here, now.
Straight up?
Straight back down again.
I remember you kissed me in the playground
at Grey Bank Primary.
- It made me feel double sick.
I never even noticed your hair then.
I had no idea I'd end up...
dancing with you.
No one fucking told me then that your hand
had been made just spot on to fit in mine.
Your laugh used to really annoy me.
Now it makes me feel like skinning up.
I should have just kissed you back then.
Would have made all this miles easier.
All what?
I'm fucking bananas about you.
What's happening?
The wind's changed direction.
- Fuck me!
- Get on that!
...and I can't sleep at night
Your face, it has no place
No room for you inside my house
I need to be alone
Don't waste your words
I don't need anything from you
I don't care where you've been
or what you plan to do
Turn, turn, I wish you'd learn
There's a time and place for everything
I've got to get it through
Don't waste your words
I don't need anything from you
I don't care where you've been
or what you plan to do
I am the resurrection and I am the light
I couldn't ever bring myself
to hate you as I'd like
The sound was shite.
It just kept blowing away in the wind.
It was blowing it in here.
You should've heard Resurrection.
I did. I was here for all of it.
Aye, aye!
- Uncle Hairy?
- The very same.
You all right?
Literally never felt better.
- You're covered in blood.
- Yeah, I know.
It's not mine.
Got booted out, early doors, for fighting.
Best day of my life.
- Are they my clothes?
- Yeah.
You getting in the van?
- What van?
- That fucker.
- Some cunt nicked mine.
All right, space travellers!
How fucking good was that?
Oh, yeah. Top. Never got in.
Did you go to the VIP gate?
You was down on the VIP gate.
How's me dad?
That Penfold kid
tell you to meet us here, or what?
Penfold? We lost him hours ago.
He were bowling round back stage,
piss-wet through.
He'd only swum the fucking Mersey.
The kid's a legend.
All aboard!
Manchester, la la la!
Over here.
Nice one, mate.
Don't worry about him.
The guy's a fucking dick.
Yeah.
Go on, Dodge! Shadow Caster!
Go on, Dodge, give it some!
Yeah!
Come on, then!
Oh, fucking here he is!
All right, lads? What's shaking?
All right?
What the fuck happened to you, Keith Teeth?
I done a sicky burp.
No, I mean with the tickets,
you massive Joey Deacon.
What are you on about? I give them
to him for yous, yesterday dinner.
- Who?
- Him. Fucking Harry Handsome.
What's up with you? Are you having
some sort of seizure or summat?
- Gary, I...
- Don't fucking bother. Cunt.
- What did you just call me?
- You heard me. I called you a cunt.
Oops. Major buzz-kill.
Here y'are, lads, leave it out.
For fuck's sake, know what I mean?
If Eric could see yous both now.
Does anyone fancy double dropping?
Yeah, all right, yeah.
- Lads, don't do this, not now.
- Stay out of it, Carlos.
I'd listen to him if I were you, Gary.
Before I bend your bones.
Haven't you hurt him enough?
You're his brother.
- Wind your neck in, little girl.
- Lads, seriously. Look, Tits, yeah?
See that straight goer over there
with the shite hair?
- Yeah, what about him?
- He's the Roses' manager.
- That's the Roses' manager?
- Yeah.
- He looks like a fucking hairdresser.
- He looks like a dick.
He is. Both.
Shut up, Ste.
Mover's on guitars, Ballbag keys,
Two Socks drums...
Give him the tape, Tits.
Give him the fucking tape. Demo him up.
Excuse me.
- So what did you say you were called again?
- The Palaver.
- Cool name.
- Yeah.
Really cool.
- Yeah. I thought of it myself.
- So, when are you on tour?
Couple of weeks.
Tits, if this is a wind-up, it's not funny.
Check all your pockets again.
- I have. Twenty times.
- It's got to be somewhere.
Yeah, somewhere on Spike Island.
When did you last see it?
When I tried giving it to Dodge.
When you fucked off with Sally.
- Don't be a dick.
- I'm not a dick.
I'm not the one that's lost the tape, am I?
All right, for fuck's
sake, Dodge, calm down.
It don't matter. It's not
the only fucking copy.
Is it? Are you taking the piss?
Happy days! Nice one!
- Knobhead.
- For fuck's sake, Dodge.
Hang on a minute,
how come I'm suddenly the twat?
Tits is the one that's lost the tape. He's
the one that's naused it all up for us.
- Fuck off, Dodge.
- No, you fuck off. The lot of you.
I am Shadow Caster. If it weren't for me,
there wouldn't even be a tape.
If it weren't for me,
you'd still be learning your first chords.
Sorry, lads.
Fucking say sorry to me.
Apologise to me, Tits.
'Cause that tape, the band...
You know I can't do fuck-all else.
Well, yeah, 'cause you're thick as pigshit,
aren't you?
Just born stupid.
No, I'm sick of wiping your arse.
And yours! And yours!
Mate, you could even have taken it
into the fucking gig.
You could have tried to get it to the band.
But you never.
You put it all on me,
like you have done all our lives.
Even when you knew
the score with me old man,
you shot off into that gig without a
thought for any twat other than you.
Next to him, you're the most selfish prick
I've ever fucking met.
What? You gonna snap my jaw now?
Go on, Tits.
No, am I fuck.
...Oh, fuck!
Steady on!
Greetings, Earthlings!
It's what ears were invented for, man.
It's the most beautiful 12 inches
of vinyl ever produced.
It shimmers and jangles like...
...sunshine and rain,
sends shivers up your spine.
It's like...
It's like, I don't know, like the Roses
wrote that album just for me.
- Bollocks!
They wrote it just for me.
- No, they wrote it for us.
Are you all right?
Yeah.
Yeah, I am.
Do you want to go back to mine?
Yeah.
- Oh!
Gary?
It's funny what makes people different,
makes us special.
Legends.
I suppose some people
are just born to stand out.
You don't have to be stood on a stage
singing tunes to be a hero.
My old man done it grafting
on a market every day but Sunday.
Stop your crying now, laddie
Dry your tears
There's no bogeyman to get you, never fear
There's no ogres, wicked witches
Only greedy sons of bitches
Who are waiting to exploit your life away
No more talking now,
it's time to go to sleep
There are answers to your questions,
but they'll keep
Go on asking while you grow, son
Go on asking till you know, son
And then send the answers
ringing through the world
So, when do you want to get off?
Who says I'm going?
Me.
Don't have to be full-time, you know.
With The Palaver, I could just do the tour
and then we could do it again.
Make a new tape.
No. It was only right
at that moment in time.
You said it yourself, it
was special, weren't it?
It was perfect. Just wouldn't be the same.
We can do anything we want.
We're Shadow Caster.
From Manchester.
It ain't where you're from, Dodge.
It's where you're at.
Just for a bit, in a time and a place,
The Stone Roses made everything right.
Not just for me, but for all of us.
My generation, or whatever.
That night at Spike Island
was the night when it all came together.
It was also pretty much the beginning
of an end... of everything.