On the day that we discovered that, quelle surprise, a Stone Roses reunion isn’t going to happen (Mani: “Two old friends meeting up after 15 years to pay their respects to my mother does not constitute the reformation of the Stone Roses. Please fuck off and leave it alone. It isn’t true and isn’t happening”), here’s something from the very bottom of the John Squire cabinet of curiosities: 1997 The Seahorses single, “Love me and Leave Me”.

I, like everyone else I knew, loved the Stone Roses. Even to the point of actively enjoying The Second Coming. Yes, yes, I know, bloated claptrap and whatever, but “I’m gonna break right into heaven” and all that. I always had a soft spot for John Squire and his incessant noodly guitar stylings. It was the mid-90′s and that was cool.

In 1997 I had developed obsessive collector tendencies and I’d missed the wagon for every single band. Yes, I had a collection of Belle & Sebastian records & singles (although I would have to wait until 1999 to complete the set with Tigermilk), but I’d never managed to collect an entire band’s catalogue from day one. A stupid thing to be concerned about? Of course. But it’s still something I suffer from, when it comes to chasing up rare tracks by bands…

In ’97, when the press started talking about Squire’s new project, I decided that The Seahorses were to be the band that I was there for at the outset. Without even hearing a track I would lay claim to them. I would have it all.

I suppose that the epic failure of the Seahorses was always guaranteed as they simply weren’t very good. I mean, Do It Yourself is an amiable little LP with some decent songs on it (I always liked “Blinded by the Sun), but the signs weren’t good. Enlisting Liam Gallagher’s help with the lyrics on “Love me and Leave Me” led to the cruel but plausible joke that his contribution had been the refrain “Love me and leave me / love me and leave me / love me and leave me”. Even if the record made it to #2 in the UK charts, these were clearly Desperate Times, not helped by frictions in the band concerning Squire’s monopoly on the songwriting.

The band limped on to produce one single from an unreleased second LP. Frankly, that song, “You Can Talk to Me” wasn’t much cop. And so The Seahorses became an incredibly easy band to collect: one LP and 4 singles; it’s over!

One thing should really be noted: the cover art (also by Squire) for Do It Yourself and the first three singles really was lovely. Stark backgrounds against fabulous playdoh style modelling in a really arresting way.