The scene is set with mischievous poetry, hushed wishful thinking about someone’s crashing demise. An anthemic chorus questions the dark outlook, and you knowingly do the same. If you listened to the album 2 tracks previous, you might even speculate who the subject of the fantasy is. Either way, the words suck you into their addictive escapism.
John Squire is captivating from the signature intro; hypnotic arpeggios and rushing reverb. Reni falls all around the incessant kick-drum and rising high-hat absorbed from the grooved psychedelia of the time. The two bound by Mani’s astute bass-line.
The solo is a rarity, it betters the song. The guitar is meticulously manipulated into a uncertain landscape that fragments in the rays of a serene sunrise, and you surge forward, belief renewed, accelerating on a runway towards the distant star, your soul sonicating from your body as you soar towards where anything is possible.
Solos never seemed to say much, they were noodley or obligatory and played for the player not the song. Made of Stone was different, it lifted you by the hairs on your neck and showed you another world. You were left wide eyed and wanting more.