WHAT THE WORLD IS WAITING FOR

Off the radar since The Stone Roses reunion burnt out - and largely absent from the studio for two decades - John Squire's collaboration with Liam Gallagher reclaims his place among the greats. He invites us to his studio to talk classic riffs, career-ending injuries, getting snubbed by Gibson, and why music keeps pulling him back in

- Henry Yates

This must be the place. Deep in the sheepsprinkled Cheshire moorlands, behind an unassuming farmhouse door, a creative whirlwind awaits us. Model aeroplanes swoop from the rafters. Craft knives, toy robots, aerosols and half-finished energy drinks jostle for desk space, while an art supplies cupboard spills with tins, palettes and brushes. Perhaps most revealing of all, in this rock ’n’ roll edition of Through The Keyhole, is the paintspattered canvas in one corner: a dead giveaway for anyone who came of age amid the bucket hats and loose-limbed beats of summer ’89.

This can only be the home studio of John Squire: sometime guitarist for Manchester’s seminal Stone Roses, latterly acclaimed visual artist, now offering a handshake and apologising for a border terrier he warns is liable to hump our leg.

But will he talk? Squire is the last enigma left in British rock. Back in the Roses’ heyday – when he was both patently unsuited to the role of guitar hero and the perfect man for the job – he hid behind his fringe, foxed interviewers with murmured wisdom, and let his life-affirming waterfalls of Byrdsian jangle, Hendrix funk, seismic blues and Northern soul do the talking.

Three decades later, Squire has only dialled up the mystique. The guitarist is seldom seen in public beyond his art exhibitions and a rare guest spot at last year’s Knebworth show by Liam Gallagher (a reprise of Squire’s cameo with Oasis at the same site in 1996). Since the second and presumably final split of the Roses in 2017, he has seemingly granted just one print interview. When Squire doesn’t have a band – which has been the case for significant stretches of his 61 years – he pulls down the shutters and leaves little more than a shadow.