“There Must Be Some Misunderstanding” : Growing Up With Phil And Genesis

There were a select group of artists that I grew up with. Not artists that I was a fan of and bought their albums necessarily, but more so were hoisted upon my ears via radio waves; Casey Kasem’s Top 40 Countdown, 80s FM chart toppers, school bus rides to middle school, and extended drives with my mom in the family sedan. Prince, Bruce Springsteen, Madonna, John Cougar Mellencamp, Michael Jackson, Journey, and a few others were the voices coming out of the car speakers and my own single speaker GE Boom box in those instrumental years between 1982 to 1992. These were the artists that dominated square footage in my cranium between elementary school and high school, whether I liked it or not.

All of those artists mentioned had at least a handful of songs that embedded themselves into my DNA. I can’t help but think of 4th and 5th grade when I hear “Little Red Corvette” and “Borderline” and not get a little nostalgia-sad. Or hearing Springsteen’s “Dancing In The Dark” and thinking of going next door to the neighbor’s house so I could watch MTV because my parents didn’t want to spend the money on cable. Mellencamp was bus rides between 1985 and 1988. And Michael Jackson came perilously close to mind control, as there’s a pic of me in a photo album at my parents house wearing a Chicago Bears jacket with the sleeves rolled up(in lieu of the red zipper covered jacket from “Thriller”) and an old lady’s wool glove like I was wanna be startin’ somethin’.

These artists were musical puzzle pieces that went a long way to informing my musical future. They were the genre building blocks that led me down the musical path I would inevitably take as a listener and devourer of music. There was one artist I didn’t mention that over the last 5 to 6 years I’ve rediscovered and have determined that whether I realized it or not, completely rewired my brain in my youth. That artist is Phil Collins.

I feel that more than any other artist in the last 40 years Phil Collins has been that constant voice in my head. Between 80s Genesis and solo Phil Collins his weirdly soulful/brass-heavy solo pop albums and Genesis’ prog/pop 80s dominance primed my brain for radio ready melodies served up in prog/art rock form. This is a revelation that I came to know and appreciate back in 2017, but this goes back clear to 1986 with Genesis’ Invisible Touch.

I can distinctly remember how the Invisible Touch album came out at the end of my 6th grade year and the title track was pushed like crack in Baltimore throughout the summer of ’86. Then when I entered middle school and quite possibly the most awkward time of my entire school career “Throwing It All Away” became radio fodder. Hearing that song in the mornings on the way to school on the bus connected to my shy, introverted 7th grade head and heart. Even though I was on a steady diet of Ratt, David Lee Roth, AC/DC, and Dokken, Genesis’ Invisible Touch was the score for my lovelorn journey through puberty.

But my love for Phil Collins and Genesis goes back much, much further.

Albums Duke, Genesis, and Abacab were a sonic platter of radio-ready goodness. Songs like “Misunderstanding”, “That’s All”, “Abacab”, “Man On The Corner”, “No Reply At All”, “Turn It On Again” and “Mama” were the soundtrack to my single digit days. Whether it was hearing them on the boom box in our garage, or driving into town with my mom going school clothes shopping, or seeing the “Illegal Alien” video on Friday Night Videos, the songs made a mark on my psyche.

Of course Invisible Touch seemed to hit a special note for me, and especially with “Throwing It All Away” being that sullen, melancholy pop song that was perfect for my puberty-stricken brain and sadsack mentality at the age of 12 going on heartbreak. “Is there nothing I can say/to make you change your mind?” would repeat itself after every orthodontist appointment, looking forward to another painful and lonely weekend. And “Land of Confusion” was as popular from the song’s message as it was by the fantastic music video created by the Spitting Image group.

Even 1991’s We Can’t Dance got its stamp of approval from moi. I was a senior in high school when it dropped. I hadn’t thought much about it until “Jesus He Knows Me” came out as a single and my girlfriend at the time(who is my wife now) liked the song. Of course I went out and bought the cassette. It was a pretty solid album with singles like “No Son Of Mine”, “I Can’t Dance”, “Jesus He Knows Me”, and the gorgeous ballad “Hold On My Heart” filling out the great and last album from Genesis(sorry, Calling All Stations doesn’t count.)

But of course, there’s the solo albums of drummer/singer Phil Collins. His solo output was equally prodigious in the 80s, with albums like Face Value, Hello, I Must Be Going, and No Jacket Required filling out the years where Genesis were off doing other things(Mike & The Mechanics, anyone?) Of course “In The Air Tonight” is probably Collins’ most popular of his solo tracks, thanks in no part to its use in an episode of Miami Vice. But honestly “I Missed Again” is an absolute funked-out banger. The brass, the groove, and Collins’ vocal delivery made that song something special. And if you haven’t heard his cover of the Beatles’ “Tomorrow Never Knows” you’re doing your frontal lobe a disservice.

Hello, I Must Be Going isn’t one I’m all that familiar with but a recent listen made me think I need to revisit it. “I Don’t Care Anymore” is tasty. And of course Collins’ cover of “You Can’t Hurry Love” is pretty damn delightful. On a recent visit to Ignition Music I snagged an OG copy of No Jacket Required, which is filled with all kind of goodness. “Sussudio”, “One More Night” and “Don’t Lose My Number” are all radio hit fodder, but the real gem here is “Take Me Home”. On a recent rewatch of the show Mr. Robot an episode opens with a millionaire executive being forced to burn a duffel bag filled with millions of dollars in Central Park as “Take Me Home” plays in the background. That was a firm reminder of just how much I loved that song, both now and back when I was still in that zone between playing with action figures, watching R-rated horror films, and contemplating taking guitar lessons.

Yes, Phil Collins and Genesis rewired my brain.

It wasn’t until a few years ago when my wife picked up used copies of Duke and Ababcab for me at Village Green Records in Muncie, Indiana that I put all the pieces together. I’d been listening to more Genesis at work, and hearing all those songs was bringing back memories, good memories. I started to appreciate what the band had done on those records, which was this perfect melding of pop songs and prog rock instincts into this incredibly catchy sound that in some ways defined the 80s for me.

I didn’t love everything Collins put out in the 80s. “Against All Odds(Take A Look At Me Now” wasn’t my thing. Schmaltzy ballads I just couldn’t get into, but it was a well made ballad I’ll give him that. …But Seriously came out at a time when I was starting to get into Rush and was pretty well embedded in metal and guitar albums like Surfing With The Alien and Passion and Warfare. The more adult sounding radio ballads just didn’t hit with me. Then there was the animated movie stuff, the “Easy Lover” stuff, and “Separate Lives” with Marilyn Martin stuff. All of that felt too stock radio music to me.

But hey, Phil’s gotta eat, too. Can’t blame him for wanting to expand his horizons outside of Genesis and his own musical canon. And if one of those songs came on the radio I don’t think I’d turn the dial(well, except for “Another Day In Paradise”.)

There’s not a week I don’t give a spin to something like Face Value, Ababcab, or Duke. They’re becoming the kinds of records I can listen to in any mood, like XTC or Steely Dan. It’s comfort tunes. They take me back to a simpler time, when I sat in the backseat and just stared out the window while someone older sat behind the driver’s seat. And the funky horns of “I Missed Again” played through the radio speakers.