Tribute - Remembering Mani — The Heartbeat of a Generation

Today, Manchester feels a little quieter. A little emptier. We’ve lost one of our own — not just a bass player, not just a lad in a band, but a figure who helped define what this city sounds like.

Gary “Mani” Mounfield has passed away, and it hurts in a way only true music lovers, true Mancunians, will fully understand.

I grew up with The Stone Roses. Their music wasn’t just on the radio — it was in the air, in the parks, in the pubs, in the soul of the city. And right there at the centre of it all was Mani, holding everything together with those unmistakable bass lines that felt like they came straight from Manchester’s heartbeat.

Mani’s playing had this magic to it — a mix of swagger, groove, and effortless cool. He never needed to show off. He didn’t have to. Every note spoke for itself. He made the bass sing in ways most musicians can only dream of. Tracks like I Wanna Be Adored, She Bangs the Drums, Fools Gold — they don’t hit the same without Mani’s pulse running through them. If John Squire painted the picture and Ian Brown told the story, Mani was the ground they all stood on.

Mani was a proper Manc lad: warm, funny, sharp as anything, and utterly without ego. Despite playing in not one, but two era-defining bands, he always carried himself like someone you’d happily chat to over a pint. He had that rare quality — a legend who never acted like one.

When the Roses split the first time, Mani didn’t fade away; he tore into a whole new chapter with Primal Scream. He brought the same drive, the same groove, the same spirit — proving he wasn’t just part of a moment, he was the moment, wherever he went. And when the Roses came back, seeing him on stage again felt like a missing piece falling back into place.

For Manchester, Mani wasn’t just a musician. He was a symbol of what this city does best: grit, soul, and an unstoppable belief in the power of music. Every young bassist in the city — and plenty beyond — at some point tried to play like Mani. Most of us failed, but we loved trying.

His loss is heartbreaking. It hits hard knowing he’s now reunited with his beloved wife, and my heart absolutely goes out to his family. But today, I’m holding onto the joy he gave us. The nights out, the gigs, the endless memories soundtracked by those low, rolling basslines that felt like home.

Manchester raises a glass to you, Mani.

Thank you for the music, the moments, and the magic.

Your groove will live forever — in this city, in our speakers, and in every kid who picks up a bass because of you.

Rest easy, legend.

Once a Rose, always a Rose. 🌹