You’ll never want to listen to thesis two sides again.

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Geez, I am reviewing Genesis. boy, am I reviewing Genesis. Who’d everzwijn had thought I’d be reviewing Genesis. nah, let’s get serious. Wij truly need to sort things out here.

Genesis were a fine little British prog rock verhouding, with a unique style of their own (whose main point wasgoed not just te tearing of the progressive sound of Yes and King Crimson, contrary to what Wilson &, Alroy would have you believe), which suffered from one terrible misfortune: that misfortune wasgoed arriving on the toneel a bit zometeen than all the other classic prog rock bands. Of course, people usually leave behind that they made their very first album ter mid-1969, before the milestones set by King Crimson and Yes – but they were just little kids at that time and they couldn’t pull out a gepast tune to save their lives, that’s what the critics say. Dammit, they’re mighty wrong. At their best, Genesis were the epitome of a fine progressive rock betrekking, the very best, the juices of the juice of what that genre brought about – serious and substantial enough to optie equality with such mammoths spil Yes and King Crimson, but also lightweight and humorous enough not to take themselves way too earnestly.

Actually, main songwriter/lyricsman/flute player/stage wiz Peter Gabriel did have a lotsbestemming of talent via most of his Genesis career (not to mention afterwards). The problem wasgoed with putting that talent on record. And this is where the trouble lies: one thing the tape always lacked ter its incessant competition with the other prog giants wasgoed virtuoso musicianship. For one thing, the betrekking never had anything like a good guitar sound: the early guitarists do not count, and Steve Hackett, adorable little dude with geysers of talent tho’ he might be, indeed had a zonderling chance to squeeze a note onto the album (which might just spil well be the main reason for his quitting te 1977, after which the betrekking didn’t even have a guitar player). And spil for the keyboards, well, this is where I’m gonna succesnummer the big time. When people say nasty things about Genesis, they usually either kasstuk at Gabriel for blurting out pompous lyrics and wearing idiotic masks onstage, or at Phil Collins for turning the verhouding into a synchronized drum/synth machine for the consumer’s taste. There may be a grain of truth te both of thesis remarks. But the real bug that always kept naggin’ at Genesis seems to be keyboard player Tony Banks. He’s professional and educated, of course, even tho’, waterput next to Keith Emerson or Rick Wakeman, he’d most likely look like a six-year old tapping at the piano with his dad’s slippers. But that’s not the main thing. The main thing is that his instruments are always at the center of the plakband’s sound, and this is more often bad than good. It’s not Phil Collins that’s the problem with the relatie, I tell you – it’s Anthony Banks. It isn’t Phil Collins who’s responsible for driving Steve Hackett to quitting the plakband. It’s not Phil Collins who’s responsible for turning an otherwise gepast album like Wind And Wuthering into an almost unlistenable synthfest.

Peter Gabriel, on the other forearm, wasgoed a indeed talented stud. I’ve grown meself a deeply intimate feeling for the zuigeling of things he’d produced – and I’ve gone so far spil to even review his solo career, a thing I wouldn’t indeed have the guts to do about any average prog rocker. Check it out on his own solo pagina – even if it has, ter fact, little to do with the Genesis legacy. Peter is responsible for the things that indeed make Genesis unique: his lyrics, theatrical wit and blissful imagery resulted ter the creation of a specific ‘progressive dreamworld’ which wasgoed far more complicated and less banal than that of Rush, for example, but far more understandable and alive than the ugly artificial constructs of Yes. Combining funny snauwerig and patches of contemporary British imagery inherited from the Kinks, Gabriel also ventured deep out into medieval and sci-fi fantasies, and always managed to come up with winners – even if he did sometimes get carried too far away, like on The Lamb. But I suppose that’s forgivable, spil it’s an unalienable flaw of just about every serious ‘progger’ ter existence.

And spil for Phil Collins, I bet you know everything about this gentleman already. Let mij just tell you that, whatever else you may think of him, Phil’s drumming is largely underrated. Te his prime, he might have bot the equal of Bill Bruford, which is telling a loterijlot (Bill Bruford actually substituted him on the 1976 tour, thus obtaining the honour to perform for three good prog rock bands during his only lifetime). Listen to his mighty, but oh-so-clever bashing on songs like ‘I Know What I Like’ and you’ll know what I’m talking ‘moerbout.

Whew, that wasgoed loooong. Let’s get on to the lineup: the main founding members were Peter Gabriel (vocals, flute, but he’s no Ian Anderson, bass drum, stage antics), Michael Rutherford (bass, acoustic guitar) and the above-mentioned Tony Banks (all kinds of corny keyboards and cornier synths). Rutherford’s acoustic, te fact, is very much essential to Genesis sound spil well, and it kinda saves you from the often vomit-inducing Banksynth parts. The other two members were Anthony Phillips (lead guitar) and Chris Stewart (drums). This lineup wasgoed formed somewhere around 1967 when the boys were still going to schoolgebouw. Stewart abandon te 1968, being substituted by John Silver (and no, Peter Gabriel is no Captain Flint). While still at schoolgebouw, they recorded their very first flop album for Decca, after which Silver abandon, being substituted by John Mayhew (1969). Mayhew and Phillips both abandon after the 2nd album, being substituted by Steve Hackett (guitar) and Phil Collins (drums). This wasgoed the ‘classic Genesis’ line-up.

Gabriel abandon te 1975 to pursue solo career, after which Collins took overheen the vocals (not the songwriting, tho’: contrary to popular belief, he didn’t indeed start to gravely write for Genesis until 1978). Hackett abandon ter 1977, reducing the tape to a trio – the famous ‘speelgoedpop brand’ of Genesis. The trio stayed together until 1996 (well, not that they stayed together all the time), when Collins abandon officially and wasgoed substituted by junior Ray Wilson. The tape then proceeded to record another album called Calling All The Stations (1998) which I wasgoed foolish enough to buy – see for one of the fattest album-bashing reviews of all time below. Tony Banks should have called it a day long, long before.

Listenability: Three/Five . Due exclusively to tremendous inconsistencies – I mean, heck, when your output ranges from Foxtrot (superb prog) to Wind And Wuthering (terrible prog) to Genesis (good speelpop) to Wij Can’t Dance (terrible speelgoedpop) to Calling All Stations (one of the worst albums everzwijn recorded), you have to be careful with that rating, don’t you?

Resonance: Five/Five . Peter Gabriel is one of those few dudes who brings real feelings into progressive. Phil Collins, unluckily, is NOT one of those few dudes. but he brings enough real feeling into Speelpop.

Originality: Trio/Five . Lots of neat ideas here – Genesis may not have initiated prog, but they talent the genre its good reputation.

Adequacy: Four/Five . Half a point off because of Phil Collins and half a point off because ofour favourite keyboardist. Sorry, I can’t but be harsh here.

Diversity: Trio/Five . You could say the Gabriel period wasgoed similar-sounding, but the metamorphose from Foxtrot to Abacab has to be heard to be believed.


Record rating = 7

At least a dozen times better than everyone says it is.

Track listing: 1) Te The Beginning , Two) Fireside Song, Three) The Tuinslang, Four) Am I Very Wrong? , Five) Ter The Wilderness , 6) The Conqueror, 7) Ter Hiding, 8) One Day , 9) Window, Ten) Te Limbo, 11) A Place To Call My Own, [Toeslag TRACKS:] 12) The Silent Zon, 13) That’s Mij , 14) Where The Sour Turns To Sweet , 15) A Winter’s Tale, 16) One Eyed Hound .

Their only album for Decca – their early manager Jonathan King managed to procure them this little contract when they were still schoolboys, but it’s no wonder that after the record’s release Decca spil only too glad to severe all contacts. It sold less copies than Santa Claus’ latest autobiography and not only made them lose the contract, but also made them the laughing stock of every critic alive (among those who actually managed to hear the record, that is). What’s even more pathetic, even now it is usually still looked on spil something to be indeed ashamed of – like some foolish childhood scribblings of a famous poet that he’d forgotten to send down the drain and then they had abruptly bot unearthed and made public. Even the verhouding’s ventilatoren usually jiggle their goes and say: ‘Well, man, they were youthful. Even the gods make mistakes sometimes’.

Well, sure enough that they do. It’s effortless to see what this album suffers from. The music is very derivative – there’s not even a single truly creative, original idea to be found when it comes to actual genre innovation. The orchestration that runs wild and free through most of the tracks had already bot pioneered and patented by the Moody Blues and Procol Harum and suchlike. The balladeering style had already bot refined by the Bee Gees and, well, er, the Beatles, for that matter. The sound effects are generic: reverb, fuzz, phasing – by 1969, that wasgoed your usual plak. And, ultimately, the concept, suggested to the tape by King, is certainly overblown to such an extent that it makes the album look grotesque: what, do you truly expect a bunch of eighteen-year old kids to waterput the description of Godheid’s creation of the world to rock music with enough authenticity? (Not to mention that the odd title of the record made many record stores place it into the ‘gospel’ bin, which wasgoed yet another mighty suck to sales).

But hey! This is exactly where all the joy starts! For once, I feel no bad feelings towards Gabriel and company for the puffed-up subject matter. See, the subject matter is so pretentious, pompous and totally deserted of any sense of humour that it’s. an awful lotsbestemming of joy – just an awful loterijlot of joy! Yes, they were youthful and naive, but that’s just the thing that redeems them, it’s nothing but a charming lump of youthful romanticism. Not to mention that this isn’t indeed prog rock: the subject matter is totally see-through, and Gabriel’s lyrics can be called all but nonsensical: naive, yes, cliched, yes, but already betraying signs of deep talent.

Now when wij commence speaking about the tunes themselves, this is where a big smile comes to surplus on my face. Call mij crazy, but I love most of thesis ditties – and there’s fairly a few of them. Whatever you say, they are pretty, funny and catchy. They might be derivative for all I care, but they’re good. ‘Where The Sour Turns To Sweet’ sets the rhythm with its moody keyboards and Gabriel’s inviting singing, then ‘Ter The Beginning’ truly recreates the atmosphere of ‘the beginning’, with Peter croaning his ‘you’re ter the mitts of fate’ line to a sustained, solemn hammer, and from then on, almost every tune has at least something to suggest te the line of hooks. Most often, it’s the pretty speelpop refrains (‘Fireside Song’, ‘Ter The Wilderness’, ‘One Day’), but sometimes it’s the entire song that’s intriguing (‘The Tuinslang’). There are brilliant melodic resolutions all overheen the place – the vocal melodies of ‘Am I Very Wrong’ and ‘Fireside Song’ are among the most grappling, ideally constructed ones I’ve everzwijn heard. Unspoiled speelgoedpop perfection. Yes, the powerless production and the conventional instrumentation do vertoning that this is a naive, clumsy effort – the tunes don’t vary too much and aren’t that memorable. But the talent is there, man. You can’t deny it’s there. Too bad the world didn’t accept this album back then and won’t accept it now. Too bad.

I’m not sure whether anybody would be ter agreement with mij overheen this one. But what I’ll say is this: this isn’t indeed a pretentious album. This is just a bunch of clean-cut, slim, artsy kids having some restricted joy ter the studio. Unexperienced, but very talented kids. It’s not a cash-in, and it’s not a crass product of some marketing scheme. It’s an virginal, fresh and funny lump of music. Bear that ter mind and waterput that record on with a smile.

Oh, and by the way: the original album is usually available under at least a duo thousand titles, because the relatie’s original manager Jonathan King is still attempting to make spil much money out of it spil possible. So he comes up with a fresh title and a fresh album voorkant (and, most likely, a fresh track running order) each year. I, for one, have the album under the title Where The Sour Turns To Sweet. It’s good ter that it also includes two of their earlier flop singles. The A-sides are rather generic, albeit listenable and even pleasant, flower power ditties (‘The Silent Zon’, ‘A Winter’s Tale’). The B-sides are incredible, tho’, most likely being the best tracks on the entire album: ‘That’s Mij’ is a terrific misanthropic/egotistic anthem, punctuated by Gabriel’s alternating inbetween low grumbling vocals and an almost falsetto shrieking, while ‘One-Eyed Hound’ is, I think, a gothic horror tale set to an adequate melody. My advice is: if you’ve determined to get the album, wait until you’ve found the version with thesis bonuses.

Record rating = 6

Progressive, long-winded and too often – boring. But, spil they say, it ",points the way to the future",.

Best song: THE KNIFE

Track listing: 1) Looking For Someone , Two) White Mountain , Trio) Visions Of Angels , Four) Stagnation, Five) Dusk, 6) The Knife .

Well, this looks like the familiar ‘Genesis’ wagon already. Even however only a year had passed since FGTR, Peter Gabriel already sounds like he’s undergone a fifty-years spiritual training course te Tibet or, at the least, te Oxford’s Department of Philosophy. What’s the news, you say? Well, it’s like those charming, blue-eyed kids that stared at you from the last album’s voorkant with white innocence never existed. They are not represented on the Trespass voorkant at all, by the way. (For that matter, no Genesis album pictured the liaison members until 1978, and even then it wasgoed rather an exception – te the finest traditions of prog).

The lyrics have gotten ‘off the deep end’, one would say. This time, they’re either paranoid (‘Looking For Someone’), or schizofrenic (‘Stagnation’), or visionary (‘Visions Of Angels’). At times Peter Gabriel seems to have bot reading too much Machiavelli (‘The Knife’), and at times – too much Jack London (‘White Mountain’, or wasgoed it Rudyard Kipling that inspired him for this story of two wolves battling for a mystical crown?). It’s evident that he is te a transitional state: his poetry isn’t spil childishly naive spil on FGTR, but it hasn’t yet become acquainted with the nosey and fascinating Brit-tingled imagery he’d begin to develop soon afterwards. It’s just. on the brink. Note, however, that Peter wasn’t the only lyricist around – some of the lyrics should be credited to Tony and some to Anthony Philips, so I’m not responsible. Ter general, one voorwaarde say that the lyrics are still way too pretentious and snubby, with ‘White Mountain’ crowning it all te puffed-up stupidity. But not always.

The songs are getting longer, too. Much longer. And this is indeed what makes this record a relative downer. Spil long spil Gabriel sings, everything seems to be OK: the melodies are existent, the song structures are terrifyingly sophisticated (another Genesis trademark) but discernible, and standouts such spil ‘The Knife’ even get your blood flowing. However, there are too many instrumental violates, and, like I already mentioned te the intro, soloing is just not a Genesis forte. So most of thesis cracks are boring to the extreme – ter fact, it wouldn’t be until Selling England By The Pound that the relatie would have ultimately learned how to pack te the cracks with creative ideas, and even then only for a brief time. For the most part, they serve to demonstrate us the ample talents of Mr Banks (there are almost no guitar solos), and, like I said, Mr Banks is not a very talented keyboard player. At least, there’s little or nothing te his backpack to make mij interested. And this results te my usual longing to swift forward the instrumental parts. BUT – if you exclude the instrumental parts, you’ll be left with only half the running time (if not less), so the main flaw of the album is demonstrable.

Considering the liaison’s relatively low instrumental abilities, this isn’t too surprising. This is actually what happens when you set out to become a prog liaison without having spent enough time at your muziekinstrument. To compensate for the lack of flashiness, the betrekking goes for atmosphere: solemn Mellotron noodling, one-note bass passages, simplistic, repetitive acoustic passages, and lots of insipid musical phrases played so calmly you don’t even notice. Even when Peter picks up the flute on occasion you can’t help but laugh: he plays it so cautiously and tenderly, but it’s just because he can’t play any elaborate passages, so he has to breathe everything he can into one single note. About the only fascinating musical passage I can reminisce is the eyebrow-raising Mellotron solo te the very first part of ‘Stagnation’ (if that’s a Mellotron, of course). It sounds so friggin’ weird and otherworldly, especially with thesis ‘leans’ at the beginning of the third minute. Just sooo spaced out and trippy that it indeed makes you wonder.

Bijzonder from that problem, fine melodies. ‘The Knife’ is the best on here – the very first timeless Genesis classic concerning Peter’s reflexations on revolution and violence ter general, it wasgoed also the only number from the album to make it onto the regular stage set. It’s also the most (and the only) hard-rockin’ lump on here, actually, it might be the strongest song everzwijn recorded by Genesis if I’m not mistaken, and for those who have bot previously lulled to sleep, it’s a natural way to get thrown out of the comatose state into a world of puinhoop, distortion, stormy organ solos and poisonous, sneering vocals. Not coincidentally, for many people this is the only song on the entire album worth mentioning, just because it’s so earnestly different from every other song on here – a superb dynamic, psychotic ending for an otherwise tranquil, solemn, slow-paced, wintery kleuter of record.

But then again, the solitary, secluded-atmosphere-style ‘Looking For Someone’ is kinda awesome too, with Peter at his most desperate, and ‘Visions Of Angels’ is fairly te the FGTR style, if you get my drift. It’s got a catchy speelpop chorus, after all. And I actually came around to liking the sung parts ter ‘Stagnation’ – that section where Peter goes ‘ah-ah-ah- AH – ah-ah- AH – ah- said – I wanna sit down!’ moves mij to tears, and I’m almost ready to rush out and offerande Gabriel the drink he’s longing for so much, ‘to take all the dust and the mud from my mouth’. Ter all, the vocal melodies and Gabriel’s talent are so much overduidelijk here that it makes mij forgive all the lengthy, pointless instrumental noodlings, if not for the utterly moronic ‘White Mountain’, perhaps the fattest artistic misstep of the entire Gabriel period, I’d have given it an even thicker rating.

Record rating = 8

The boredom is still there, but, truthfully, there’s lots of zuivere entertainment on this record.

Best song: THE Come back OF THE GIANT HOGWEED

Track listing: 1) The Musical Opbergruimte , Two) For Absent Friends, Trio) The Terugwedstrijd Of The Giant Hogweed , Four) Seven Stones, Five) Harold The Barrel , 6) Harlequin, 7) The Fountain Of Salmacis .

This is where the ‘classic Genesis formula’ ultimately falls into place, together with the acquisition of fresh guitarist Steve Hackett and fresh percussionist Phil Collins – the adorable little bald chappie with most likely the most unpredictable career te the entire history of rock/speelpop. Back then, tho’, he did have all of his hair stiffly te place and uncommonly ventured onto the steep path of singing, much less songwriting. oh man, those were the days. Not that I have any hard feelings towards Phil (except for ruining Clapton’s career ter the mid-Eighties, that is), but somehow he always looks more favourable on photos dating back to, say, nineteen seventy-three, than any time te the present. But let’s get on with reviewing, shall wij?

The fresh guys do contribute a lotsbestemming of interesting stuff to the plakband’s sound, from Phil’s mature prog-rolls to Hackett’s professional soloing (that is, when he does get a chance to do some soloing, which isn’t that often, and even then he managed to procure himself an elaborate pedal which makes his guitar sound just like it wasgoed another of Tony’s synths). But it’s neither Collins strafgevangenis Hackett that manage to beef up the rating for the record. Rather it is Gabriel’s lyrics, which have eventually matured to the point of being able to successfully rival with the lyrical brand of such cultural heroes spil Pete Sinfield, Keith Reid or Jon Anderson, and, I’m not afraid to say it, to ritme them at it.

The material is divided here into two groups: the three lengthy, pretentious marathons (‘Musical Opbergruimte’, ‘Come back Of The Giant Hogweed’, ‘Fountain Of Salmacis’), balanced by a handful of shorter, not-so-pretentious ballads and suchlike. Those of you who hate lengthy pretentious prog rock, however, won’t get much of the shorter numbers. See, at some point Gabriel obviously determined that the ordinary speelgoedpop tunes he proved himself master of on FGTR were way too obsolete and dated (hey! that’s what everybody else says about it, isn’t it? but not mij!), so he eliminated them and preferred to concentrate himself on weird verse structures and chord progressions that are so complicated it kinda makes you sorry about what you thought of that last Beach Boys album. What I’m attempting to tell you, actually, is that thesis shorter numbers might sound nice, but none of them are memorable ter the least – no matter how you attempt to get into them, all you’ll be left ter the end is some crazy background noise. While you’re ter, however, you might just spil well love it.

‘Harlequin’, while not possessing any distinct melody or distinct hooks, is at least pretty, te the Genesis vibe, and ‘Harold The Barrel’ is just a fantastic tune, sounding slightly like a medieval Brit folk song, but only slightly: it almost looks like it wasgoed built on a ",cut-and-paste", principle, with several different melodies cut ter little lumps and smacked one overheen another ter a style that seems ugly and strained at very first, but turns out to be brilliantly executed ter the end. Of course, all this contributes to the tune’s utter unmemorability, but the individual mini-pieces are all ideally written and joined together. I kinda love the actual story, too, however I admit it’s a little hard to understand why Harold the Barrel wasgoed going to hop out of the window. ‘For Absent Friends’ and ‘Seven Stones’ kinda suck, however, both the melodies and the lyrics. Can’t indeed love them. Somewhat messy, if you ask mij. Somewhat senseless, if you ask mij, too. Come on now, what is ‘Seven Stones’ about, with its unclear pics with unclear purposes? Sounds like a Trespass outtake to mij. Oh, and for the record ‘For Absent Friends’ features the very first everzwijn apparition of Phil Collins te the role of lead singer, but that hardly improves the song.

Now, about the three lengthy marathons. Thesis will take a indeed long time to get into, but you might do that, and once you do, you’ll be glad about it. The lyrics are mostly erect – Lewis Carroll rip-offs with elements of black humour and gothic mystery on ‘Musical Opbergruimte’, a fantazmo sci-fi horror tale on ‘Giant Hogweed’, and a lovely Greek myth about the Hermaphrodite set to music on ‘Salmacis’. Out of thesis, ‘Hogweed’ is my favourite: the way that Gabriel recreates the atmosphere of scare created by the onslaught of the ‘giant hogweed’ against the planet is purely intoxicating, with the screams of ‘turn and run! stamp them out! waste no time! strike by night!’ being the most groovy part. Even the synths feel right ter their place here, and the guitar/synth duet ter the intro is amazing – an ultra-complex riff played at lightning speed ter accomplish unison. And the main melody is, well, it kinda resembles something ter inbetween a music-hall tune and a martial rhythm. Very ingewikkeld, yet very solid and memorable ter the end.

But I also respect ‘Musical Opbergruimte’ (a long-time fan favourite) for its beauty and, te part, even Pink Floyd-ian moments (the alternation of quiet and noisy te the line ‘and I see. and I feel. and I touch. THE WALL!’ are certainly Wall-ish). And, ultimately, ‘Salmacis’ is just slick, with truly talented and meaningful lyrics (after all, this is nothing but a retelling of an old Greek myth) and welgevoeglijk music. But, spil you can see, my bet is on Gabriel more than anyone else. Only his singing can make thesis tunes come to life. So, when the instrumental parts (and they’re not that brief, I tell you) take overheen, you’ll be bored, I tell you, unless it’s a zonderling case of an accomplished Steve Hackett solo (he’s especially demonic on ‘Musical Opbergruimte’). You – will – be – bored. Why? Because Gabriel and Hackett are the only real virtuosos te the relatie, that’s why. And let mij tell you that, spil much spil I respect (or don’t respect) Phil Collins, he absolutely wasgoed not the volmaakt choice for a vocalist. Sure, his voice does sound a loterijlot like Gabriel’s, but he’s got a loterijlot less of a range, and he can never make a record come alive just by the sheer abilities of his vocal ropes, spil Gabriel often does. Oh, but that comes on straks. Sorry.

Record rating = 9

The concentrate of the plakband’s legend, it is all that good – but you have to strain yourself for it.


Track listing: 1) Watcher Of The Skies , Two) Time Table, Trio) Get ‘Em Out By Friday , Four) Can-Utility And The Coastliners , Five) Horizons, 6) Supper’s Ready .

More of the same formula: lengthy marathons with boring instrumental passages, increasingly complicated prog lyrics and Gabriel’s fantastic singing abilities. But even better this time around, the instrumental passages are generally less boring because they tend to be shorter and more multi-part, the lyrics are getting interestinger and interestinger, and Gabriel’s singing abilities are on the rise again, spil he goes deeper and deeper into his amazing brand of ",rock theater",.

Just like ter Cryme, there are three lengthy marathons, but one of them is truly long. You know, of course, what I’m talking about: the famous side-long ‘Supper’s Ready’. While you’ll see fairly a few reader comments condemning mij for my initial rejection of the most part of the suite below, time has certainly improved my feelings towards it. Obviously, the suite wasgoed written mostly with the aim of ",not falling behind", the other prog bands like ELP, Van Der Landgraaf Generator, King Crimson and particularly Jethro Tull, all of which had already released side-long lumps by the time – and some of them had done pretty well on the charts. But fortunately for us, Peter Gabriel wasgoed such a talented fella that the effort eventually turned out to be much more than an obligatory tribute to his predecessors.

‘Supper’s Ready’ is basically Gabriel’s take on the Apocalypse (actually, one of the parts is subtitled ‘Apocalypse Ter 9/8’) – I will not go into details on the song’s ‘spiritual essence’ and the meaning of all of its individual sections, because all such things are rather debatable. There are lengthy resources for the explanation of ‘Supper’ on the Nipt, together with resources annotating The Lamb, check ’em out for yourselves. Here, it vereiste be noted that most of the parts are supposed to have actual meaning, and the suite flows fairly well. Kudos to the verhouding, ter particular, for actually providing us with fairly a few melodies: the twenty-plus minute length is fully compensated by the numerous themes, ranging from soft and subtly ominous to gritty and openly aggressive. With all their pretentions and ambitions, they could have lightly pumped out the Close To The Edge formula (a few good melodies diluted by tons of acquired-taste atmosphere), but instead they’re te for some real musical meat. And thus, after a few listens that are needed to get used to the tune ter general, it only sags ter a duo of places: some instrumental cracks are, spil usual, lengthier than they should be, and a duo sections like ‘How Dare I Be So Beautiful’ and the already mentioned ‘Apocalypse Te 9/8’ are, well, overshadowed by the better moments. But when said uur is better, it’s usually topnotch. ‘Paramour’s Leap’, with its tale of two paramours merging spil one, is sad and romantic, driven forward by a gorgeous medieval guitar line, ‘The Assured Eternal Sanctuary Man’ is climactic, with geysers of wonderful atmosphere, and ‘Ikhnaton And Itsacon And Their Betrekking Of Merry Guys’ is a stomping lump of battle fury with Hackett at his very very best. The joy comes on ‘Willow Farm’, where Gabriel is the main and only starlet: it’s one of his most astounding theatrical British deliveries everzwijn. And ‘Spil Sure Spil Eggs Are Eggs’ brings us back to the climactic moments of the 2nd part, culminating te the triumphant coming of the Lord ‘to lead his children huis, to take them to the fresh Jerusalem’.

Via, the liaison pulls out almost everything out of their sleeves: Tony’s playing is moderate and restrained, resulting te fairly a few sweeping organ and Mellotron passages, Rutherford is supplying pretty acoustic guitar, Hackett stays te the shadows but the presence of his guitar ter the background is always noticeable, Phil is Phil, and Gabriel. no, his starry hour had yet to come with the next record, but his singing on ‘Willow Farm’ certainly puts him te the league of Supermen. If you toevluchthaven’t yet seen that movie of the Genesis History, rent it if only with the aim of witnessing Mr Gabriel hop around the stage ter his flower clothing while doing the ‘Willow Farm’ bit. An never-to-be-forgotten practice. So screw the meaning – Apocalypse or not, this is simply a hodge-podge of enthralling musical ideas and inspired vocal and instrumental spectacles.

For mij, however, side A hardly rejects to match Gabriel’s interpretation of the Apocalypse on side B. Not all, of course: ‘Can-Utility And The Coasters’ is classic Genesis filler, it doesn’t do a single thing for mij. Some people seem to like it, but I don’t see how it is better than, say, ‘Harlequin’ on the previous record. Genesis are essentially a power betrekking: they very uncommonly get on by soft melodies alone, it’s the tegenstelling inbetween soft and hard (I mean, upbeat and majestic) that makes their songs work. There is hardly any power te ‘Can-Utility’, just a loterijlot of atmospheric acoustic guitar and a few more Mellotron notes that don’t seem to achieve any positive effect.

But the fan favourite ‘Watcher Of The Skies’ is certainly a good song, even with all those corny Mellotrons that predict the much straks murky Wind And Wuthering synth stylizations: the melody manages to be memorable while not being very ordinary (spil usual), and the lyrics, pretentious spil they might be, are at least funny (I don’t know, I for one find a loterijlot of joy te the lines ‘maybe the lizard shedded it’s tail/This is the end of man’s long union with Earth’). It also manages to go from stately and peaceful to furious and rocking with the transition effectuated smoother than most prog rock bands could everzwijn manage such subtle switches – courtesy of Mr Hackett, whose guitar mechanism is even more exceptional than before.

Same goes for the more obscure ‘Time Table’, with Gabriel at his most ‘universally-important’ tone – the gorgeous chorus of the song is, well, gorgeous, and Tony’s tinkling electrified piano solo is utterly lovely, why didn’t the man stick to non-electronic devices more often te his life is way beyond mij. But my absolute favourite on the album is the sadly overlooked ingenious sci-fi tale of ‘Get ‘Em Out By Friday’ ter which the corporation of Genetic Control buys up all the housing on the planet and then reduces humanity to half its size so that they could make more money by putting twice spil many inhabitants te each house. What a bummer, eh? Why hasn’t Ray Davies come up with a rock opera like this? (Which, by the way, is no idle question: there’s much more ter common inbetween Ray Davies and Peter Gabriel than you might imagine). ‘Get ‘Em Out By Friday’ is a worthy inheritor to ‘Hogweed’, with an even more complicated, but an even more funny and entertaining structure and Gabriel taking zuivere delight te impersonating both the ‘virginal lambs’ and the ‘big bad wolves’ of the story. While the song is nowhere near spil ‘all-encompassing’ spil ‘Supper’s Ready’, it manages to enthrall mij even more successfully: after all, it’s like an entire play tucked ter eight and a half minutes, not to mention the tons of cool melodies the tape throws on here without any serious effort. Eventually, Rutherford’s two-minute classic guitar showcase on ‘Horizons’ is at least a geschreven ease after all those nauseating Banksynths. So you see, there’s enough to make this record stand out even without the ditzy supper that’s ultimately ready.

Whatever I might say, however, there may be no doubt that this is Peter Gabriel’s peak spil a lyricist. His exaggerated ‘Britishness’ shines through on all the corners, but it seems to be not the kleintje of ‘conservative Britishness’ that characterizes the Kinks, or the kleuter of ‘medieval-minstrelian Britishness’ that characterizes Jethro Tull. I’d call it ‘fairy tale Britishness’: ter his imagery Gabriel relies on Germanic and Celtic mythology and old folk tales and pagan practices rather than on ‘social Britain’. So, at least te this respect, wij might say that Genesis certainly delved itself a unique niche te British prog rock. Let it stay there for all its worth. And budge on to their glorious culmination!

Record rating = 9

Mostly by-the-book renditions of standards. But what standards!

Best song: THE Terugwedstrijd OF THE GIANT HOGWEED

Track listing: 1) Watcher Of The Skies , Two) Get ‘Em Out By Friday , Three) The Come back Of The Giant Hogweed , Four) The Musical Opbergruimte , Five) The Knife .

A cash-in, but it’s truly indeed strange that this is a single album. A single live album? When Yes were releasing a triple live set? Come on, Peter, what were you thinking about? Especially since the verhouding’s ventilatoren admit there were plans for a dual live album, with ‘Supper’s Ready’ and some other good shit (or bad shit). Anyway, there’s no point of wailing for that now. I’d expect they beef up the fresh re-mastered version, but nope. No such thing – just the standard five tracks and not even a single stage story from Pete which he wasgoed so famous for. (Genesis ventilatoren don’t need to bother, tho’: once you’ve picked up the boxset Archives, you’ll detect everything you need and more). Pity. But let’s talk about them, still.

This is a treat for the serious Genesis paramour: no shorter filler stuff here, just the lengthy wankathons. Two of them from the latest Foxtrot (‘Watcher Of The Skies’, ‘Get ‘Em Out By Friday’), two from Cryme (‘Musical Opbergruimte’, ‘The Comeback Of The Giant Hogweed’), and one from the far-away Collins/Hacketless epoch (‘The Knife’). All of thesis are amazingly superb songs, no doubt, and treated with honour with fine spectacles, too. That’s why I give this album a 9, even if it isn’t fairly fair: after all, it suspiciously resembles a ‘greatest hits live’ compilation, and I shouldn’t rate compilations. On the other arm, it ain’t a compilation. So scram it.

Despite the spectacles’ solidity, they practically add nothing to the originals. The only more or less significant rearranging is provided for ‘The Knife’, most likely due to the fresh verhouding members’ participation: ter particular, Hackett’s wild solos on the song totally wipe out the powerless former playing of Anthony Philips, and so far seem to be one of his most noticeable and virtuoso spectacles on a Genesis number. Banks also adds a duo abate keyboard solos te some places, but, speciaal from that, Gabriel and the boys mostly stick to the old versions note by note. I vereiste say that I am amazed anyway: out of all the prog bands, Genesis’ studio sound wasgoed very likely the most polished, with not a note out of place – even the lengthy instrumental sections never relied much on messy improvisations, being cautiously planned, programmed and pre-rehearsed beforehand. It should have taken them a loterijlot of practice to carry that sound from the studio onto their live voorstelling without losing any of the components, and the utmost te musicianship. They do pull it off: my worst complaint about the sound lies ter the quality of the recording equipment, especially ter the mix sphere – Gabriel’s voice is often overshadowed (albeit that might have bot Peter’s own problem: with all those costumes, it wasgoed most likely hard to keep the mike at brief distance all the time). But the instruments are mixed ter with enough care, and every song preserves its essence: the atmospheric Mellotron swirls on ‘Watcher’, the medieval solemnity of ‘Musical Opbergruimte’, the.amusing theatricality of ‘Get ‘Em Out’, the ominous feeling of catastrophe on ‘Hogweed’, and the apocalyptic madness of ‘Knife’, everything is here.

Gabriel, however, still manages to outshine all the others – his is the ‘live note’ on the album, spil he is able to shift his vocals from one style to another, switching the expression at whichever point he wishes, while the others are entirely tied down by the complexity of the music. Thus, ‘Get ‘Em Out By Friday’ sounds even more theatrical here than it does on the origial, with Pete overdoing the stage pronunciation bit and obviously getting a lotsbestemming of joy from himself. And albeit he misses making the expected ",wild scream", on the ‘turn and run!’ section of ‘Hogweed’, he fully redeems himself on the straks sections, at times aided by Collins from behind his drumset (not to mention the amusing ‘scrapings’ that Hackett inserts from time to time to illustrate the ‘botanical creature stirs’ passage).

However, ter the general sense all of thesis minor distinctions do not make up for the album’s expendable character. It is indeed difficult to realize why a non-diehard should take his time and money to go out and buy the record. Still, if you do treat it spil a compilation, and if your tummy is strong enough to bear five nonstop (but brilliant) wankfests te a row, you might get a blast of it. I know I do, and, after all, it’s interesting to see how thesis guys managed to cope with their, let’s admit it, rather sophisticated material onstage. They did manage.

Unluckily, what the record rejects to present us with totally are the excitement and theatricality of Genesis’ stage voorstelling (I mean, the songs are theatrical enough, but I mean the entire package). Chic from the vuurlijn voorkant featuring Gabriel te one of his endless mascherades and one of his stories written ter text form te the liner notes, there’s nothing on here to suggest that this wasgoed a tape with one of the most famous stage spectacles of the era. And the booklet itself is a real joke, with just a duo of muddy photos and only the most essential liner notes. Truly. The re-mastering guys could have made a better job. Aww, never mind, the music on here still rules. Hell, I’d even say I like ‘Musical Opbergruimte’ better when it’s here than when it’s on the studio record. Why? No reason. Just had to think of something encouraging about this album. And I still give it an eight if only out of sheer respect for such an excellent song selection.


Record rating = Ten

One of the most diverse, funny, pathetic, bombastic, mystic, and beautiful prog-rock albums everzwijn.


Track listing: 1) Dancing With The Moonlight Knight , Two) I Know What I Like (Te Your Wardrobe) , Three) Firth Of Fifth , Four) More Idiot Mij , Five) The Battle Of Epping Forest , 6) After The Ordeal, 7) The Cinema Vertoning, 8) Aisle Of Slew.

Yup, either this or Genesis’ only reason for existence. Truly, if this one were not my very first Genesis album, I doubt that I would everzwijn think of getting deeper into the plakband. Nursery Cryme and Foxtrot might have bot okay, but you have to work truly hard te order to appreciate even some of the material, and a lotsbestemming of it I still treat spil absolute filler. Not so with this truly timeless effort. For once, the tape seem to have resolved all of their problems. For once, the instrumental passages are all of a sudden not so boring or even not boring at all – and, fairly often, they are downright beautiful. For once, Steve Hackett gets fairly a loterijlot of chances to make good use of his muziekinstrument (even however he’s still exploiting that bimbo pedal of all things). For once, Tony Banks neglects his synths to play some fresh, arousing piano. For once, Gabriel puts a little bit of everything into his lyrics – from plain, good old-fashioned humour to ultra-bombastic, but still clever lyrics. And, for the very first time, Phil Collins gets to shine with a self-penned song, and it doesn’t suck! Now that’s what I call an album.

Okay now, if wij choose to refer to precies track names, then this is what I’d say. The album opener, ‘Dancing With The Moonlit Knight’, is my current bet for best Genesis song everzwijn. To my mind, the hidden potential of Gabriel’s voice didn’t come to light until the opening, almost accappella lines, te which majesty alternates with irony and sarcasm with lamentation. The instrumental pauze is superb, with the synths propelling everything to a quick, butt-kicking groove and Hackett’s guitar catching up with the keyboards with gusto. And the closing section, with Mike Rutherford endlessly repeating the same acoustic four notes overheen and overheen with synth noises ter the background, is simply beautiful, however it might be about thirty or forty seconds overlong. Then comes another favourite – their ‘klapper single’ (which I waterput te quotes because it wasn’t indeed a klapper single, but it wasgoed the only thing close to a kasstuk single te Gabriel’s epoch) ‘I Know What I Like (Te Your Wardrobe)’. It demonstrates one thing: that Gabriel has eventually become able to come up with brief, but still meticulously pleasurable speelpop tunes. But the lyrics? ‘But I reminisce a voice from the past/Gambling only plays when you’re winning/Had to thank old Miss Mort for schooling a failure’. Groovy. I love this song, too. It has it all: ingewikkeld, but catchy verses, a bombastic refrain, and, above all, Phil’s ingenious drumming (just listen to those rolls all overheen the place). Classic!

Next? ‘Firth Of Fifth’, yet another fan favourite. I expected to hate it because it wasgoed so pompous and self-indulgent, with lyrics ranking among the relatie’s most pretentious (I wasn’t even a bit astonished when I learned their author wasgoed Tony Banks and not Peter), but I can’t deny the melody. And the instrumental part strikes mij spil being one of the most intelligently written lumps of music I’ve everzwijn heard among prog rock tunes. The way that the tearful flute part, the sorrowful piano part, the upbeat synth part and the lamenting guitar part all mesh with each other and participate te creating a finish ‘wall of strain’. wow, and then this ‘wall of pressure’ abruptly comes crashing down with a ‘consolation’ synth part. Wow, now that’s truly clever. I can imagine that hearing this live might result te a catharsys. Classic, too. And then, after all this bombast, wij all of a sudden go on into a three minute acoustic folkish ditty that introduces us to the songwriting and singing talents of Mr Phil Collins. Clever fellow: actually, he can write a good song and knows how to sing it, too! Some might find ‘More Idiot Mij’ a bit too saccharin-ee for their tastes, but mij, I’m just alright. I do agree that he wasgoed banally tearing off the Beatles, tho’, because sometimes it sounds like something John Lennon might have taped around spil a demo, then thrown into the wastebin. That’s a vleierij to Phil Collins, te case you toevluchthaven’t understood.

Another epic – ‘The Battle Of Epping Forest’ – well, it might not be a fan favourite, but I’ve leisurely grown addicted to it. For mij, this is one fine damn jolly amusing song, with Gabriel just having lots of joy te the studio spil well spil, once again, demonstrating the unlimited capacity of his voice. Overlong? Hell, anything that’s eleven minutes long is overlong. But it infrequently becomes boring, that’s for sure. There’s a loterijlot of catchy hooks all overheen the place, melodical spil well spil lyrical, and the part about the ‘reverend’ falling into the jaws of sin is downright hilarious, even if it indeed has nothing to do with the ‘battle of Epping Forest’ by itself. Unluckily, this is where the album leisurely starts to give te, because the final two songs (the instrumental ‘After The Ordeal’ and another lengthy suite, ‘The Cinema Display’) just don’t thrill mij that much. Not that they’re bad: were they placed on, say, Nursery Cryme, they could have become the highlights there. On here, they just sound a little powerless: ‘After The Ordeal’ is, let’s face it, hardly necessary with the far superior instrumental arrangements on ‘Firth Of Fifth’, while ‘The Cinema Display’ borrows its melody from the very first parts of ‘Supper’s Ready’ and, even with that, displays very little energy. Because Selling England is, te its essence, an spirited album – the one that keeps your blood flowing most of the time. ‘Dancing With The Moonlit Knight’ wiggles you, ‘I Know What I Like’ kicks you, ‘Firth Of Fifth’ simply moves you and ‘Epping Forest’ plainly confuses you. ‘The Cinema Demonstrate’ is more like ‘Musical Opbergruimte’: it might thrill you, but it sure don’t inspire you or rouse you. Not that everything needs to rouse you, of course, but still. but still, shucks! there’s five fine songs te a row, resulting ter thirty-five minutes worth of superb music, plus two good songs. Not to mention that the last minute and a half of ‘Cinema Vertoning’ is truly an independent ditty called ‘Aisle Of Slew’ which is actually a reprise of the best part on ‘Dancing With The Moonlit Knight’. Good youngsters! If you dig slim British prog rock at all, you can’t live without this record. It’s superb to the point of being my favourite prog rock album of the year. Which year? Why, this year, of course! What other year I’d be living ter?


Record rating = 8

Rather like ‘The Mind Dies Down On The Way’, if you get my drift – but this is sure a long and arousing way.


Track listing: 1) The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway , Two) Fly On A Windshield , Three) Broadway Melody Of 1974, Four) Cuckoo Cocoon , Five) Te The Cell , 6) The Grand Show Of Lifeless Packaging, 7) Back Ter N.Y.C. , 8) Hairless Heart , 9) Counting Out Time , Ten) Carpet Crawlers , 11) The Chamber Of 32 Doors, 12) Lilywhite Lilith, 13) The Waiting Slagroom , 14) Anyway, 15) Here Comes The Supernatural Anaesthetist, 16) The Lamia, 17) Silent Sorrow Ter Empty Boats, Legitimate) The Colony Of Slipperman, Nineteen) Ravine, 20) The Light Dies Down On Broadway, 21) Railing The Scree, 22) Ter The Rapids, 23) It .

Whee, this is one mightily frigged out record. My guess is that Peter Gabriel thought people were still taking him less earnestly than necessary, due to all the fox dresses, willow farms and Harold the Barrels. So, one thing he hadn’t still come up with wasgoed an extended, pretentious rock opera. Spil you might have guessed, this is a dual album – a double-length rock opera. But ohmigosh, what a rock opera this is. Evidently, after a loterijlot of squibbling one comes to the conclusion that it does have a plot: it’s based on the lifestory and hallucinogenous practices of a Puerto Rican tramp called Rael, te order to impersonate whom Gabriel even sacrificed his long hair and trippy stage costumes (some of them, of course – overheen the duration of the live Lamb showcase Peter still used to switch fairly a few garments, including some gigantic monstruous ",pods", and other different stuff, but normally, he just waterput on a ripped T-shirt and that wasgoed it). However, not even a supertalented scientist, heck, not even a ‘supernatural anaesthesist’ can decipher what the hell is truly going on, be it te reality or te Rael’s stoned mind.

This time Gabriel evidently didn’t leave any modesty te his lyrics. You’ll find everything here, it’s like a ‘Genesis encyclopaedia’: tramps, anaesthesists, hairless hearts, deep caverns and imaginary (and real) cages, colonies of slippermen, obscure Greek mythology outtakes, quotes from hundreds of streek, writers and composers, and, of course, all of the betrekking’s clever and not-so-clever musical tricks. All of this makes for a indeed terrible very first listening practice, you may believe mij. Sitting through the entire album wasgoed originally a task worthy of a true Hercules. And even after repeated listenings, when one gets used to the music, lyrics and general atmosphere, there is still a nagging thought that pursues mij – what’s the meaning of this entire thing. Taken individually, the imagery of certain of thesis songs is working fairly all right, but spil a entire, the album is just one gigantic question mark. What’s the sense of Rael pursued by a black cloud overheen Broadway, waking up te a box, meeting the ",carpet crawlers", and the Slippermen? What’s the sense of him being castrated, and why insert all that toneel where his brother John is falling overheen imaginary rapids and Rael pursues after him ter order to save him? What’s the ",It", that concludes the album? Don’t even attempt to reaction. It’s a put-on. If it weren’t for the form te which Gabriel and Co. dresses all that putrid stuffing, I’d very likely leave my former rating of six spil it wasgoed. Fortunately, on a unspoiled musical level it certainly is worth better – after all, it’s no worse than The Wall.

The main point and accent of the imagery has certainly switched (ter fact, the album might be considered an all-out Americano anti-reaction to the purely British Selling England), but the plakband’s sound is still for the most part the same, albeit they are leisurely moving into the dubious ",post-Gabriel progressive", territory, with Banksynths now playing a more vooraanstaand role (the main synth riff of ‘It’, for example, while good te itself, almost coincides with the one used on ‘Robbery, Attack And Battery’ two years straks). The sound is also fairly vigorous, roarin’ and tearin’, but. it doesn’t always work.

Now look here, I’ll be the very first to admit that the album does feature a loterijlot of interesting and sometimes even thrilling ideas (I’ll be listing the best of thesis ter a uur), but there’s truly too much filler. Sometimes a song starts out just fine and turns into a banal screamfest or into a particularly nasty Banksynth fiesta soon after. Like ‘Te A Cell’, for example, the very first verse of which is wonderful and the surplus of which is. well, welvoeglijk, albeit I used to hate it, but still, it’s just a normal rocker, that never lives up to the glorious introduction (‘I got sunshine ter my belly/Like I just rocked my kind to sleep. ‘).

Among the best stuff on here I’d certainly have to point out the title track which is a golden classic and deservedly so. It indeed starts the album on a high note, with, once again, Gabriel’s vocal voorstelling (and Tony’s tinkling piano – dump those synths, Tony!) making it stand out. And, like you know, the very first disc is not indeed bad at all. Once again, I draw on comparisons with The Wall: Disc 1 is near-amazing, fresh, titillating, total of good melodies and rich with subtle, ",light", atmosphere, but it’s on Disc Two where hell’s bells ultimately strike and you have to hack through its jungles with a battleaxe.

Indeed. ‘The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway’? Roaring and tearing, kicks the album off with an energy never matched afterwards. ‘Fly On A Windshield’? Excellent atmospherics (gives a fine feel of the black cloud leisurely and rhythmically advancing on Rael), until all of a sudden the drums kick te and Tony and Steve play up a thunderstorm while Phil pounds like a mule. ‘Cuckoo Cocoon’? Foolish, refreshing ",nursery", interlude. ‘Ter The Box’? See above. ‘The Grand Vertoning Of Lifeless Packaging’? Amazingly catchy chorus. ‘Hairless Heart’? Beautiful, beautiful instrumental, one of the most emotional, climactic melodies on here. ‘Counting Out Time’? Ah, there’s a real masterpiece – ter inbetween all thesis strenuous progressive epics is etched a jovial speelgoedpop number, faithful to Rael’s memories of his early days, reading hook-up manuals before his very first date and finding out all the ‘hot catches sight of’ on pages so-and-so. Unluckily, the manual lets him down te the end. (Here’s another argument te favour of my hypothesis about Pete’s deep sexual complexes, but I guess everybody already knows about that). ‘Carpet Crawlers’? Another beautiful ballad, quiet, melancholic and with a philosophy of its own, not to mention the timeless Gabriel falsetto on ‘you gotta get te. to get OOOOO-UUT!’ ‘The Chamber Of 32 Doors’? How could one leave behind the immortal lines about ‘I’d better trust a man who works with his palms. ‘.

Ter the end I only left out ‘Back Te Fresh York City’ which is kinda ugly. But when it comes to Disc Two, I humbly lower my palms and turn off my head. Vinnig, yes, Onvriendelijk and Lumps of songs on there are pleasurable, but ter general it’s just too plot-heavy and Gabriel is too busy proving his being well-educated and well-read for it to be consistently pleasurable. I don’t want to say that thesis melodies truly suck, but they indeed go overboard with their complexity, not to mention that musically, you get all the most necessary ideas on Disc 1, while Disc Two just keeps repeating and recycling the same stylistics overheen and overheen until you’re just sick. Besides, it features such minuses spil ‘The Waiting Slagroom’ – a explosion of stupid atonal noises that never trigger any nerve. The only three songs on that disc that I love te their entirety are ‘The Colony Of Slippermen’ (more because of its intriguing theatricality than anything else), ‘The Light Dies Down On Broadway’ (because it’s a reprise of the title track, spil you understand) and the closing ‘It’.

That said, I still raise my former rating to an eight (well, I promised it would almost undoubtedly grow), because. well, because this is still a unique and very intriguing album. I like the general style, too, albeit my main complaint is that I can hardly hear Mr Hackett at all: he wasgoed waterput very much ter the background by Tony, and it becomes very noticeable if you waterput Lamb on instantly after Selling England. Poor Steve. Nevertheless, like I said, Tony uncommonly goes overboard with his synth stylings on here, and there’s still fairly a loterijlot of piano and different instrumentation to spice up the pie. And out of all double-length progressive albums, Lamb after all thesis years still turns out to be the most accessible.

Of course, spil everybody knows, right after the tour Peter abandon Genesis, never to rejoin again except for a single charity muziekstuk, spil he himself explained it, he wasgoed far too afraid to get trapped ter a relatie whose popularity wasgoed steadily on the rise and become just your average artificial rock starlet. Well, supposedly he should have stayed around until 1981 or so – because Genesis didn’t actually become a mass audience icon until the early Eighties. But to each his own ways, and after all, Peter’s solo career lightly ritme out Genesis’ together career.


Record rating = 8

The best te songwriting and the most mediocre ter song orkestratie. Tony Banks should be guillotined. (On parole!)


Track listing: 1) Dance On A Volcano , Two) Entangled , Three) Squonk , Four) Mad Man Moon , Five) Robbery Attack And Battery, 6) Ripples , 7) A Trick Of The Tail , 8) Los Endos.

What differences are there inbetween the Gabrielled Genesis and the Gabrielless Genesis? Well, very first of all, spil one might guess, a Gabrielless Genesis features no Peter Gabriel. That meant that somebody had to substitute his showman/singing abilities (the songwriting would be fairly modestly treated by those old pals, Mr Banks and Mr Rutherford). After attempting out dozens, if not hundreds, of potential candidates, they all of a sudden found out that the response wasgoed right before them all of this time. Our old friend, Phil the Boomer, rose to the challenge and demonstrated his capability to take the place of Peter. And so commences the Odyssey of Phil Collins and his rapid rise from one of the best drummers te progressive rock to one of the crappiest performers on the adult contemporary toneel.

One might note, however, that Phil Collins isn’t indeed responsible for the song material on this album (strafgevangenis is he indeed responsible for the following two albums, for that matter). The compositions are mostly penned by Banks and/or Rutherford, with an occasional collaboration from Collins or Hackett. The latter seems to have bot relegated to purely decorative functions. If one complains about the lack of audible guitar on the ‘classic’ 1971-74 Genesis albums, he should throw this stuff away even without looking at it. The little kattig of guitar that you might discern aren’t certainly worth a entire liaison member (moreover, some of them might just spil well be played by Rutherford). Sure, Steve gets te one composition of his own (‘Entangled’) and is responsible for some of the most beautiful moments on the album (the breathtaking solo on ‘Ripples’, for example), but thesis sound more like a sop hastily thrown to the man by his more ambitious colleagues. This means that Hackett’s departure ter 1977 indeed made little influence on Genesis – contrary to what many people believe. Poor Steve, he wasgoed virtually squeezed out of the liaison – what you’ll find on here, actually, is a lengthy, 50-minute feast of Banksynth noises. Alas, even when he turns himself to normal pianos, it doesn’t always help. The sound is spil uniform and monotonous spil it might be, and while the actual melodies still stand out, Genesis seem to be heading more and more ter the Kansas direction – and may I remind you that Kansas had built their entire early career on tearing off Genesis. Not to mention that they are among the most boring progressive groups to have everzwijn existed. Granted, the sound might still have bot fresh te 1976, but now it just sounds dated – pointless studio gimmickry which sure makes the music sound ‘modern’ (that is, ‘modern’ for 1976), but it sure doesn’t make the music sound entertaining.

Moreover, Phil’s singing is very disappointing after all those Gabriel cookies – to mij, at least. Yes, he does sound like Gabriel, but where are thesis nice little switches ter intonation, thesis spoken passages, thesis inspired rambling mutterings? Phil produces his lines ter a boring, monotonous way, and even so he’s often muddied down by the production. His voice is not bad at all, but he isn’t able to specimen it at all, and just finishes up overemoting on each track. From now on, Genesis vocals are crisp and professional, but are no longer a standout.

So. why an eight for this album, then? Well, see, the song material is actually fairly strong. Whatever I may hold against Banks, at this point he did know how to turn ter a fine little tune (on occasion), and, hell, Rutherford wasgoed a truly talented composer. His beautiful ballad ‘Ripples’, dedicated to the problems of aging, is one of the definite highlights on the record, romantic and tear-jerking, even tho’ a little bit overlong (spil a matter of fact, everything on here is overlong: the plakband just never knew when to shut up). Still, it does have that excellent solo thrown ter by Steve. Other wonders include the tragic anthem of ‘Squonk’, with a charming fantasy story about a little animal who dissolved itself into tears when it wasgoed cornered, and the thrilling story of ‘Robbery, Brunt, And Battery’ which again plunges us into the world of Genesis-like Britishness (strangely, the lyrical matter evokes the subject of ‘Harold The Barrel’). Not that the songs are indeed that British spil the album voorkant, with its Boz-like illustrations, suggests: ter fact, without Gabriel there to supply the lyrics, Banks often finishes up sounding spil a lame parody on Pete Sinfield (‘Mad Man Moon’ – arguably the worst track on here, an overlong messy ballad which doesn’t hold a candle to ‘Ripples’ or, well, ‘Musical Opbergruimte’, for all my life’s worth, it does have a nice atmosphere to it, tho’, which is more than I could say about its successor on the next album, the dreadful ‘One For The Vine’). Still, his best composition on the album (title track) should be considered a classic. On ‘A Trick Of The Tail’ everything seems to gel flawlessly, maybe for the last time on a Genesis album. The lyrics (a story about a demon who, for some unknown reason, came to seek happiness on Earth) are gepast, the melody, a nice shuffle with tender key switches, is invigorating, and even Phil manages to somehow lift up his spirits on this one. Attempt it, you’ll like it.

Plus, the other three compositions are okay. ‘Dance On A Volcano’ is anthemic, ‘Entangled’ is, well, entangled, but listenable (observe out for that mighty crescendo at the end – it’s unspoiled heaven when the headphones are on), and the closing ‘Los Endos’ is clever, even if it’s nothing more than an average prog-rock instrumental with snippets of some other tracks and a quote from ‘Supper’s Ready’ inserted at the end. Ter fact, there’s little offensive stuff on the record, spil far spil songwriting is worried. Just imagine how this might have sounded if they’d bother to substitute some of Banks’ implements for, say, a twelve-string? Oh, okay, an toegevoegd six-string would lightly do, I’m sure.

P.S. Considering one of the reader comments which reflects a widely spread statement, I’d just like to combat one nasty myth: namely, the assertion that after Gabriel’s departure Genesis became more ",musically-oriented",. Genesis always paid most of their attention to the music – ‘Supper’s Ready’ and Selling England might have their theatrical moments, but 99% of their charm stems from the actual music. If anything, Genesis became less ",theatre-oriented", after Gabriel’s departure, actually, they dropped the ‘rock theatre’ vibe almost ter its entirety. But they didn’t ‘compensate’ for it by paying more attention to the music, simply because they couldn’t everzwijn have paid more attention to the music than they did te the Gabriel days. On the contrary, what wasgoed so amazing about Gabriel-era Genesis wasgoed that they managed to combine ‘rock theatre’ with flawlessly written music. If you complain about your attention being drawn away by Peter’s antics, well, it’s your problem, I, for one, can concentrate either on Gabriel or on the music, whichever I choose, and therefore consider the early Gabriel-Genesis practice twice spil rewarding spil whatever followed. Yes, post-1975 Genesis never wrote such mini-show chunks spil ‘Get ‘Em Out By Friday’, but the main charm of thesis chunks stems from the fact that they are all very melodic and incorporate impetuous musical spectacles, the music te there is te no way overshadowed by Peter’s delivery. So much for the illusionary ",theatrical/musical", Genesis opposition.


Record rating = Trio

Sorry, but Banks totally slaughters this one for mij. I agree there are some strong songs, however.


Track listing: 1) Eleventh Earl Of Mar , Two) One For The Vine , Three) Your Own Special Way , Four) Wot Gorilla? , Five) All Ter A Mouse’s Night, 6) Blood On The Rooftops, 7) Unquiet Slumbers For The Sleepers , 8) Te That Quiet Earth , 9) Afterglow.

Oops, I blew it. I said something good about Tony Banks ter that last review, toevluchthaven’t I? Well, screw it. Leave behind it. From the opening notes of this album and down to the last 2nd, it’s a nauseating synthfest. Thesis electronic sounds seem to infiltrate you, spoil the very air you’re breathing, poison the cup of tea you’re sipping at while attempting to get through to the melodies. And recall: I’m not against synthesizers spil long spil they’re used te the keurig way. You can waterput out a killer synth riff, something like Gentle Giant’s ‘Alucard’. You can use the synth to create outstanding fantasy-world or just outstanding spiritual musical textures, like Brian Eno. You can at least demonstrate your vast instrumental prowess by playing a technically immaculate, warp-speed solo – something ter the style of Keith Emerson, I admit that some would hate that last style, calling it self-indulgent etc., but it’s at least motivated. But when you engage te series of pointless, draggy instrumental passages that do neither of thesis three things, the reasonable question is: WHY? Why did Tony Banks clutter this ample, fifty-minute album with Explosions of thesis routine, boring, monotonous synth passages that do nothing besides just sit there and fart around? Okay, the tone he gets on this album and the general ‘atmospherics’ of his playing is basically not the worst thing ter the world. But it’s absolutely the same tone and absolutely the same atmospherics he used on the previous album, and he doesn’t switch AT ALL across all of thesis fifty minutes! Just noodle noodle noodle noodle. until I truly can’t tell one song from another, chic from a duo relative highlights I’ll be mentioning shortly.

My guess is that Tony despairingly desired a serious album, plus he dreamed to establish a clear monopoly on the fresh Genesis sound. But ter doing so, he managed to successfully leave behind about everything that made earlier Genesis so good – awesome melodies, light-hearted lyrics, diverse instrumentation and stylistics, and above all, the irresistable playfulness of Gabriel’s style which made the music ingewikkeld and serious, on one side, and lightly accessible and delightful, on the other one. This is still Genesis, for sure, but it’s a formal, lifeless, clumsy Genesis that downright misses the Genesis essence of old. Where such bands spil Kansas were once faithfully copying Genesis te form, but not essence, Genesis now seem to be copying Kansas themselves. Yyyyuck.

Spil for Steve Hackett, he voorwaarde have played a total of two or three notes on this album (speaking figuratively, of course), which explains why he left shortly after recording the album – the contradictions with Banks were getting irresolvable. Rutherford holds out, tho’, contributing yet another ter a series of his beautiful, classic-influenced ballads (‘Your Own Special Way’), and Collins certainly does him a yam-sized favour by opening up himself on it totally. Perversely enough, this is usually the ventilatoren’ least favourite number on the record, because it’s – go figure – too much speelpop for them. Well, it’s not the greatest song everzwijn written, for sure, but at the least, it has a memorable and idiosyncratic chorus, and that’s far more than I could say about the surplus of the album.

Two more songs manage to garner my attention te the long run. The album opens on a high note – ‘Eleventh Earl Of Mar’, dedicated to a metaphoric description of an old Scottish upraisal, gyrates along at a suitable rhythm and does include a duo of those long-lamented synth riffs that make it listenable. I can even disregard the ‘deconstructing’ of the melody (initiated on tunes like ‘Squonk’, where, if you recall, the verses got spread out, twisted and disstructured ter the most brutal way imaginable), spil well spil the fact that a large part of the vocal melody wasgoed shamelessly taken overheen from ‘Battle Of Epping Forest’ (and some – from ‘Squonk’ itself), the upbeat tone and the presence of real melodies make it tolerable and even pleasurable. And the Hackett/Collins collaboration ‘Blood On The Rooftops’ is a nice breather te inbetween all the muck, opening with a pretty acoustic intro and accompanied with a Mellotron rather than a synthesizer all the way through. It’s not spil well-constructed spil ‘Entangled’ on the previous album, but if anything on this record feels veritable or moving, it is ‘Blood On The Rooftops’.

But the album is also cluttered with pointless, meaningless and deadly boring instrumentals (‘Wot Gorilla?’, ‘Unquiet Slumbers’) which make any instrumental passage on a 1970-74 Genesis album sound inspired and brilliant te comparison. ",Self-indulgence", is the keyword here: either you make an instrumental memorable by basing it on a good melody, or you just drive the listener choky with the energy and technical level of the vertoning, but if you fall somewhere te inbetween, how can you stand the competition? Awful, awful compositions.

. yet not spil awful spil that ten-minute abomination on the very first side. There, Banks reaches an all-time low with a brooding and raving ‘epic’ (‘One For The Vine’) which is just such a horrible stream of pseudo-intelligent bullshit that I turn down to acknowledge it spil a Genesis song. The lyrics are super-pretentious but mean nothing, with overbearing cliches and idiotic preachiness sprayed all overheen the song, and the melody could have bot written by Elton John at the age of Ten. And this is supposed to be going on for ten minutes? Holy crap! Unnecessary to say, no humour, no playfulness, and not even the percussion-heavy mid-section helps to bring the song out of its grotesque, overbearing, nauseating atmosphere. ‘One For The Vibe’, it should be called, and ‘Zero For The Effort’.

Oh geez, I voorwaarde have bot very offensive here – and I’ve just remembered that Wind And Wuthering seems to be a fan favourite! Where are wij living, Eldorado? Nah, shucks. Were wij living ter Eldorado, Tony Banks would have bot expulsed long ago. All I can say is that if this is a fan favourite, I suggest all you average boozers avoid xxx Genesis ventilatoren. They might bite you.

So overall, this is a rather sad picture the tape has drawn of itself. All thesis instrumentals, ten-minute Banks compositions. sad, very sad. Exhaustion? Stagnation? Overproductivity? Touring excesses? Yes, all that, plus somebody’s thick ambitions and vast ego. Nah, no way. Stick to Trick Of The Tail, where the relatie wasgoed still at least partially following ter Gabriel’s footsteps, with lightweightness preserved te ‘A Trick Of The Tail’, Britishness preserved te ‘Robbery, Attack And Battery’, zuivere beauty preserved ter ‘Ripples’, good riffs preserved ter ‘Squonk’, shimmering guitarwork preserved ter ‘Entangled’, and rocking energy preserved ter ‘Dance On A Volcano’. How many categories did I mention? Six? Wind &, Wuthering doesn’t have a quarter of that.

P.S. Did I mention yet that this one has to have one of the weakest Genesis album closers? ‘Afterglow’ is based on a two-note melody, it seems, and is so pathetic and so monotonous at the same time that it indeed hurts. It tends to be emotional and spiritual, but is so gruesomely inadequate that I can’t stand it at all.

Record rating = 6

Slaughtering the old classics doesn’t mean they’re no longer good.


Track listing: 1) Squonk, Two) The Carpet Crawl, Trio) Robbery, Brunt &, Battery, Four) Afterglow, Five) Firth Of Fifth , 6) I Know What I Like , 7) The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway, 8) The Musical Opbergruimte (closing), 9) Supper’s Ready, Ten) Cinema Display, 11) Dance On A Volcano, 12) Los Endos.

Spil far spil I can think, this is most likely the last ‘classic’ Genesis album, because it still features Steve Hackett and it still relies mostly on the ‘old classics’. Diehard prog ventilatoren usually don’t even want to think of crossing the line inbetween this and what followed. It’s live, of course. Therefore it doesn’t have Phil on drums, Bill Bruford bashes the kleefstof on a duo tracks, most notably ‘Cinema Voorstelling’, but for most of the surplus it’s Chester Thompson, the black jazzy player who’d previously scored with none other than Rechttoe Zappa himself. Unnecessary to say he’s good – he’d played stuff thrice spil ingewikkeld and witty spil Genesis’ moderately tricky signatures. Spil an unpretentious percussionist, he rules. Unlike Phil. I’m sorry, but I have to say that, whatever the critics may have raved, he is absolutely not out-Gabrielling Gabriel. But let’s overeenkomst with this ter due time, shall wij?

The album is dual – late spil usual. I mean, all the good artists usually don’t care too much about live albums while they’re te their prime, either releasing none or releasing a poorly recorded single one, and only when they’re past their zenyth do they abruptly turn back and recall: ",Hey! Wij toevluchthaven’t done a dual live album, toevluchthaven’t wij? What were wij thinking about?", And they quickly record it, but it’s too late, of course. Just look at this list: the Who’s Who’s Last, the Stones’ Love You Live, Dylan’s Before The Flood, Clapton’s Just One Night, the Kinks’ One For The Road, all of them were dual live albums indicating artists way after their prime. Like I say, rock music does have its laws.

Seconds Out is no exception. A dual album, it concentrates powerfully on the ‘classics’ which the liaison just didn’t get a chance to record (or to release) live while Gabriel wasgoed still dangling around. Look at the track listing – ‘Firth Of Fifth’, ‘I Know What I Like’, ‘The Cinema Display’, ‘The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway’, ‘Carpet Crawlers’, and, of course, a entire side dedicated to ‘Supper’s Ready’. There’s also a (rather pointless, I vereiste say) brief snatchet of ‘Musical Opbergruimte’ – I indeed hate the idea of swiping out a ‘most significant part’ out of a good song, unless they were actually playing it that way (incomplete, that is), te which case they’re doubly cursed, and sorry for all the periods – plus some of the newer material: ‘Squonk’, ‘Dance On A Volcano’, ‘Robbery, Brunt And Battery’ and ‘Los Endos’ are all from Trick Of The Tail, and, thank Heer, there’s only one number from Wind And Wuthering (‘Afterglow’, a bombastic Banks tune which isn’t the worse thing about that album, but it’s close).

The fresh material is all performed by-the-book, with Collins and the surplus of the verhouding emulating the studio sound to a near-perfect similarity (except for an unreasonable, but brief drum solo on ‘Volcano’). Sometimes Phil slips a note or two, but that’s nothing to get annoyed about. Now the old material is what might cause some eyebrows to be raised. Collins bravely fights along with old Gabriel material, and he’s definitively successful on some of the more bombastic numbers (‘Firth Of Fifth’ goes off splendidly, and even Banks’ synth substitution of Gabriel’s beautiful flute part isn’t able to spoil the picture), but that doesn’t zekering him from ruining ‘Carpet Crawlers’ where he can’t indeed cope with what is the main attraction of the song – the harmonies, strafgevangenis does it zekering him from adding free-form and usually poorly conceived improvisation to ‘I Know What I Like’ (which is, moreover, transformed into a lengthy stupid jam te the 2nd part, borrowing from ‘Stagnation’, if I’m not mistaken – now whose idea wasgoed that?).

I wouldn’t indeed know about ‘Supper’s Ready’, because a detailed comparison of the two versions is a lengthy proces which I just wouldn’t to get myself involved into, sounds okay to mij, tho’. At least, you know, Phil wasgoed actually around when they were recording the song, so he voorwaarde have felt its spirit well enough to waterput te a solid voorstelling. (Recall also that a loterijlot of the harmonies and stuff on classic Gabriel-era Genesis albums were sung by Phil spil well, so that’s not such a problem spil may seem). And, anyway, thesis guys had always bot pretty good on stage despite all odds.

So, whatever. If you have nothing against Phil’s Gabriel imitations, you might spil well grab this one. But be sure to get the original versions very first: those are the classics, and this one’s a slightly more lame imitation. Nothin’ else. There’s this kleintje of record whose existence seems to be justified by simply answering the question ",can this be done?",. Well, with a little bit o’ luck this can be done. But man, does Phil look positively ugly with that beard! And does he look positively stupid on stage when (I spotted this te the Genesis history movie) he’s raising his palms to the sky while singing the pedestrian cliched lyrics to ‘Firth Of Fifth’, ugh. Yeah right, the excellent Heerser of Prog is sitting right there and Tony Banks is his only prophet, isn’t that so?


Record rating = Five

A country-western album total of Banksynths. Don’t ask mij whether that’s possible. I just can’t think of any other description.

Best song: SNOWBOUND

Track listing: 1) Down And Out, Two) Undertow, Trio) Ballad Of Big, Four) Snowbound , Five) Searing Strap, 6) Deep Ter The Motherlode, 7) Many Too Many, 8) Scenes From A Night’s Desire, 9) Say It’s Alright Joe, Ten) The Lady Lies, 11) Go after You Go after Mij .

Humorous album title that shows us the guys indeed could take a laugh if they desired to very hard, but that’s not truly telling much. (What a shame that Hackett and Gabriel had to go and Banks and Collins had to stay. ah, the calamities of nature). Their very first album spil a ‘power speelgoedpop trio’, with no Steve Hackett for miles around. However, considering the amount of work he did on the preceding three studio albums, this eventually doesn’t mean a damn thing. And that’s exactly the thing that makes mij wonder. The record is commonly described spil ‘the beginning of a fresh Genesis’, the Collins-dominated, pop-oriented Genesis. It is generally expected that prog rock ventilatoren are to despise this record (and all the following), while at the same time they’re expected to adore Wind And Wuthering (and all the preceding). To my ears, however, And Then. does not sound at all different from the very first two post-Gabriel records. The absence of Hackett doesn’t mean a damn thing (I think I already said that a duo of lines above, but repetitio est mater studiorum, you know), because the sound is still predominated by Banksynth and Collins’ drum sound, with an occasional acoustic (sometimes even electrical!) guitar from Master Mike. The songs are still long – well, not ‘Supper’s Ready’-long and not even ‘The Musical Opbergruimte’-long, but long nevertheless (and there’s fairly a loterijlot of ’em, too – yet another album that doesn’t indeed deserve not to getraind on one side of a gauze). And the lyrics are still spil pretentious spil hell – preachy and pathetic, that is. This, ter fact, is the one truly truly serious flaw that makes mij hate post-Gabriel Genesis – neither Banks strafgevangenis Rutherford were everzwijn able to capture that groovy Gabriel vibe (and I don’t even mention Phil’s exercises ter lyrics-making).

So ter general, spil you see, there were almost no switches that could be noticed on this here record. Moreover, there’s even one big plus on it. Guess what – the songs are slightly more listenable than on Wind. Very first of all, there are no pointless instrumentals (maybe that’s what they mean when they say that the former wasgoed a prog record and this one wasgoed a speelpop record? Hardly a mooipraterij to prog, I say), so you get to be dispersed from Banksynths at least by listening to a lotsbestemming of Phil’s singing. 2nd, there are some truly inspired Rutherford compositions – like the generic, but charming ballad ‘Snowbound’ (about a snowman? huh!), or the Wild Westelijk anthem ‘Deep Ter The Motherlode’ which sounds a little like a slowed-down version of ‘Eleventh Earl Of Mar’, and even his minor efforts are interesting (‘Say It’s Alright Joe’, with an ultra-tender Collins vocal).

Meantime, our old pal Tony gets yet another of his seven-minute ravings (‘Searing Strap’), and, while it’s infatuatingly boring, it isn’t nasty, at least. It seems to mij that he wasgoed always hoping to get a private analog of ‘Firth Of Fifth’, and this is very likely the closest he everzwijn got to a reminiscence of that truly timeless epic. The relatie even emulates the kleuter of sound Hackett used for his solo te the middle of ‘Firth’ (but don’t ask mij whether it’s some more of Tony’s wizardry or if it’s just Rutherford expropriating Steve’s pedal). The lyrics are trite, of course, but the effort is at least respectable. And ‘Undertow’ even sounds Beatlish te parts – imagine that, a Tony Banks composition sounding Beatlish. What an accomplishment for the old geezer. Yes, thesis songs all sound basically the same, all of them mid-tempo synth-based wankings, but that’s all right by mij at the uur. Anything but the pretentions, pomp, overbloatedness, lengthiness and banality of Wind &, Wuthering. If you have just developed the most abate and plodding synth tone of your life and choose to make it the central point of the verhouding’s sound, stick to shorter poppier chunks rather than to lengthy progressive ‘epics’, I say.

Maybe it’s just my individual impression, but I’d say this album is better simply because of the fact that, instead of wanking all overheen the place and piling layer upon layer of pointless synth backgrounds, what they mostly do here is feed on past successes and rip off the early classics. Hey hey, what could they do? ‘Scenes From A Night’s Desire’ reminds mij of ‘Robbery, Brunt And Battery’, the kasstuk ‘Go after You Go after Mij’, fairly nice by itself, doesn’t remind mij of anything particular, but anyway, I’ve just made a statement and I’m not gonna re-write it. This does sound closer to classic Genesis than Wind &, Wuthering does.

However, even with all those compliments I still won’t give it more than a 6. For reasons I most likely don’t need to stress here at all, but still will because nothing pleases mij spil much spil boring the readers to death with trite statements. All thesis melodies that I singled out are only acceptable spil long spil. spil long spil you compare them to the preceding record. This wasgoed only the rough beginning of Genesis’ final evolution, after all, and spil far spil I understand, Collins still wasn’t that much involved ter the songwriting – his influence would only commence being earnestly incorporated into the tape’s sound te the early Eighties. It’s one of those ‘poor’ cases of transition when the relatie has already lost the capability to create something worthwhile te the old style, but hasn’t yet acquired the capability to create something te a fresh style. If you want a more successful ‘lightweight’ album by a former prog artist from 1978, stick to Gentle Giant’s Giant For A Day. Heck, even ELP’s Love Beach is more involving (its very first side at least). What a pity the album didn’t sport the name And Then There Were Two.

It’s also very funny that the album often refers to the western themes. Well, at least thrice: ‘Deep Ter The Motherlode’ and ‘Ballad Of Big’ are all drunken cowboy ditties, and hey, have you taken a good look at the album voorkant? Who are those dudes sitting te the middle of a prairie at sunset? Do they look familiar? Not truly, but I wish that boy on the left’d lift his hat a little.

Record rating = Five

I don’t think it’s speelpop. I don’t think it’s prog. I don’t think it’s too good, either. Buy it out of curiosity.

Best song: . . . anyway, why do I have to chose best songs all the time? Oh, allright. It vereiste be DUKE’S END

Track listing: 1) Behind The Lines, Two) Duchess, Three) Guide Vocal, Four) Man Of Our Times, Five) Misunderstanding, 6) Heathaze, 7) Turn It On Again, 8) Alone Tonight, 9) Cul-De-Sac, Ten) Please Don’t Ask, 11) Duke’s Travels, 12) Duke’s End.

Ah! Now this is already different! They’ve entered the Eighties, see, and the album truly ushered te Eighties synth-pop like a swarm of locusts. You might expect it to be detestable. Strange enough, it isn’t, for reasons I’m still not able to determine. I guess it’s mainly because Genesis were the forefathers of the genre. And you know how it goes with talented forefathers: even if the idea ter general turns out to be moronic, they’re still able to make the best of it. Europop is a pitiful genre, for example, but ABBA, who originated it, wasgoed a fine plakband. Led Zeppelin generated powerful metal, a genre that’s long since stripped itself of most of its redeeming qualities, but them? Them did it good, I say! Same goes for Genesis.

Not that the record is all unspoiled synth speelpop, mind you. The main technical differences from the preceding record are primarily ter that Collins, having solved his marriage problems (and written a loterijlot of songs about his marriage problems), got eventually involved into the recording and songwriting process to an utterly significant extent. The album even has his very first solo writing credit (‘Misunderstanding’), and lots of technical work were done purely by the man – including the relatie’s very first [ab]use of drum machines. Sweetening up the pill, I might say that Phil’s forearms do a loterijlot of drumming, too, and it’s fairly solid. So this is truly the very first album which wij can dub a ‘Collins-led’ album, albeit with some reservations.

Did it make any real difference? Not too much. They say it’s a ‘speelgoedpop’ album. Well, the speelpop factor is mostly relegated to a duo succesnummer singles (the album, te fact, wasgoed their very first hefty commercial success), like the above-mentioned ‘Misunderstanding’ or ‘Turn It On Again’. Thesis are bouncy, rhythmic ditties, borrowing powerfully from discotheek rhythms (specially the 2nd one), with rather straightforward lyrics (specially the very first one – Phil wasn’t much known for writing non-love songs). They’re not horrid, like certain people keuze, but they’re certainly speelpop, no doubt about that, and not superb quality speelpop, with no bvlistering hooks I can think of. Mind you, however, that thesis are not the very first occurrences of ‘speelgoedpop’ on a Genesis record. (See ‘I Know What I Like’ for further reference.) Some moments ter ‘Heathaze’ or ‘Please Don’t Ask’ could be qualified spil ‘speelpop’, too, but the songs te general are way too ingewikkeld and untrivial to go after the standard.

But the other songs? Are they speelgoedpop? The album is a conceptual one, built around a central character titled ‘duke’ and seemingly telling us something about his journeys (the instrumental ‘Duke’s Travels’). Which duke exactly is meant here is beyond mij – I voorwaarde read a book some day. All I know is he’s married, ’cause there’s a song called ‘Duchess’, and that he’s deceived, ’cause there’s a song called ‘Duke’s End’. Hmm, doesn’t that remind you of Phil Collins? Eyeing spil the main theme of ‘Duke’s End’ is truly nothing more but a reprise of the introductory instrumental section of the album opener ‘Behind The Lines’, one might suggest that the album embarks with his birth and finishes with his death. That’s all right by mij. I just hope the caricature of a fat old person dressed te green on the album voorkant doesn’t turn out to be the duke itself. Ehn.

Don’t think you’ll get to know anything about the duke, of course. The lyrics here are mostly standard Banks hogwash, the likes of which wij’ve come to ‘love’ on Wind &, Wuthering and And Then. And the music? Well, it’s still mostly Banksynths, but somehow they aren’t spil nauseating here. Maybe it’s because some of the songs are swift (‘Duke’s End’). Maybe it’s because the record has more guitars on it than any Genesis record since Selling England (no kidding – they indeed bring on the 12-string ter some cases, it seems). Maybe it’s because Tony willingly switches to piano from time to time. I dunno. The melodies themselves aren’t that interesting, tho’, relying mostly on the same chords and patterns spil the ones on the previous record. And Phil’s singing is leisurely commencing to get on my nerves. Moreover, I’m fairly disappointed with Rutherford: his main solo composition on here (‘Man Of Our Times’) is every bit spil pedestrian spil Banks’ efforts. It does borrow the bombastic ‘heavenly’ chorus from ‘Your Own Special Way’, but who needs it? Not mij. Certainly not mij. Get on with it. All said, I just desired to shatter the myth about early Eighties’ Genesis being primarily ‘speelpop’ music. To mij, it seems more like ‘prog’ disguised spil ‘speelgoedpop’ – which certainly contributed to the sales. And of course, rhetoric phrases like ‘there are truly two entirely different bands both named Genesis’ are totally meaningless. You don’t go about telling ‘there were two entirely different bands both named The Beatles’, now do you? (Come to think of it, if wij do say that there were two Geneses, I can’t even imagine how many Beatles wij’d have to postulate!)

But te any case, the overall rating of nine is mainly given out because on certain good days this works out fine spil unharmful background music. There ain’t even a single semi-classic on the entire album, which I couldn’t say about any other Genesis record, it’s just relatively consistent te that nothing makes you puke. No, not even ‘Misunderstanding’ makes mij puke – it’s far better than ‘One For The Vine’, if you axe mij.

Record rating = 7

This is the zuigeling of ‘good music for dancing that one need not be ashamed of’. Not boring, either.

Best song: DODO/LURKER

Track listing: 1) Abacab , Two) No Reply At All, Trio) Mij And Sarah Jane , Four) Keep It Dark, Five) Dodo/Lurker , 6) Who Dunnit?, 7) Man On The Corner, 8) Like It Or Not, 9) Another Record.

Well, take my words back! This IS speelgoedpop music! Genesis DID become a speelgoedpop liaison after all, didn’t they? Maybe my main dissatisfaction with the standard notions about Eighties’ Genesis wasgoed that they did not take into view the gradual metamorphoses of Genesis. This is presumably the very first album where the ‘dance speelgoedpop’ factor takes overheen and becomes the vooraanstaande on the record, due to Collins falling more and more ter love with sequencers and drum machines. The only feeble traces of mid-Seventies Genesis can sometimes be found te the lyrics, like ter ‘Dodo’ which is a fair enough reminiscence of ‘Squonk’. Actually, the entire lyrics te general are a big step up from Duke: while certainly not the zuigeling of meaningless, but preachy ‘confessions’ that Banks used to vulpen te the past four or five years, they are still a far sob from the average love song themes of, say, Fleetwood Mac or anybody else ter that epoch.

The music, spil one might guess, is mostly based on drum machines and all that other cherished early Eighties electronic sound. But hold your vomiting! Unlike so many less talented bands, Genesis weren’t indeed following the style. Instead, they were setting the trends themselves – the album is certainly experimental, and all the guys are attempting so hard, attempting to squeeze everything possible from thesis ‘magic’ gadgets, that it’s indeed joy to just zekering and appreciate their puffing and panting. The drum machines don’t truly sound annoying, and much of music still has a ‘live’ feeling to it – more ‘live’ than, say, Paul McCartney’s McCartney II or Jethro Tull’s A. Maybe that’s just due to the fact that Banks wasgoed an old and respected master of the synthesizer, so the reliance on modern technologies doesn’t take us so aback te this particular case. But one mustn’t leave behind that there’s still fairly a loterijlot of guitar sound around, and, what’s more significant, the record isn’t made for the sake of experimentating, like the two records mentioned above: the technologies are only there to enhance the sound, not to substitute the melody.

Who wrote thesis melodies is a serious question: most of the tracks are credited to all three members of the relatie, and those tracks that are unspoiled solo (each member gets one composition of his own) are usually the worst of the loterijlot regardless of the author (excluding maybe ‘Mij And Sarah Jane’). Eventually the members realized that themselves, so beginning from their next album all the credits are collective identically, returning us to the good old days when everything wasgoed just credited to Genesis and that wasgoed it, until good old Pete Gabriel insisted that all the lyrics on The Lamb be credited to him and broke the unity. But the current collaborations vertoning that the guys could indeed produce a good tune when they desired to, and even their grooves are entertaining.

Take the most controversial song on the entire record, for example, the one called ‘Who Dunnit?’ Some view it spil an atrocious example of pre-techno ritme set to idiotic, mindless lyrics (‘wasgoed it you or wasgoed it mij/wasgoed it he or wasgoed it she/wasgoed it A or wasgoed it B/or wasgoed it X or Z/who dunnit?’ and the following endless, repetitive ‘wij know wij know wij know wij know wij know wij know. ‘) Others, however, regard it spil a little technohumor while grooving te the studio. Guess what camp I am ter. Of course, I don’t truly love the song (only a pc descendant could love it), but at least I can listen to it with rente now and then. Maybe just spil a historical curiosity. Maybe for some other reason I can’t identify. But it has something cool and hilarious about it.

Actually, the very first two thirds of the album are mostly cool. The title track bounces and bops around so that you can’t help being involved somehow, and the melody is strong, whatever you may say about the arrangements, the liaison even takes the time to jam a bit at the end, with atmospheric ‘robotic’ synth patterns and wailing guitar solos that are more spirited than anything since Steve Hackett’s guitar parts on Selling England. ‘No Reply At All’ is a dang strange tune, with alternating glad and sad lines, the dance-pop horns borrowed from Phil Collins’ solo albums slightly mar it, but it’s at least memorable. And ‘Mij And Sarah Jane’ is the very first Banks solo composition ter a totally speelgoedpop style and most likely one of his best known (but man, are the lyrics stupid on that one!) The good news is that Tony actually lets his fantasy run through several different melodies – unlike most of his lengthy epics on post-Gabriel ‘prog’ records, the song doesn’t just hammer on and on and on te a monotonous way, but nicely shifts moods, tempos and keys all the time.

My favourite, however, is the seven-minute ‘Dodo/Lurker’, the closest thing to a ‘prog’ number, albeit this is primarily due to the lyrics: like I said, they strongly remind mij of ‘Squonk’ (with the difference that ‘Squonk’ is a mythical animal and ‘Dodo’, er, a half-mythical one. If it’s the Lewis Carroll Dodo Bird they mean, of course). You could even argue that the melody is slightly remkiniscent of ‘Squonk’, at least it’s the same powerful desperate treatment – ‘too big to fly, dodo ugly so dodo vereiste diegene’. And what would you say of lyrical lines like ‘Fish he got a hook ter his mouth/Fish he got problems?’. It’s not even understandable if wij should sob or wij should laugh – the lyrical subject is obviously eco-related, but the melodies themselves are rather lightweight, and when ‘Lurker’ comes ter with that cheerful synthesizer riff at the end, any kleuter of ",powerful impression", is instantly dissipated. But is that a bad thing? Not at all.

Unluckily, the record completes on a rather abate note, with two or three unmemorable numbers (including Phil’s boring philosophical pastiche ‘Man On The Corner’ and Rutherford’s unmemorable ballad ‘Like It Or Not’), but ‘Another Record’ at least provides a welvoeglijk nostalgic final note, and the puny amount of filler shouldn’t detract you from the fact that this is a record indeed worth having. Very first, it has a lotsbestemming of historical importance – for speelgoedpop music te general and Genesis ter particular. 2nd, the songs are more often pleasant than not. Third, cool post-impressionistic album voorkant! Fourth, good singing from Phil, he attempts out more styles than everzwijn before. Fifth, if you’ve already bought Wind And Wuthering, you have no excuse for not buying this one cuz it’s better.


Record rating = 7

Live. Imagine that.


Track listing: 1) Turn It On Again, Two) Dodo, Trio) Abacab, Four) Behind The Lines, Five) Duchess, 6) Mij &, Sarah Jane, 7) Go after You Go after Mij, 8) Misunderstanding, 9) Ter The Cell , Ten) Afterglow, 11) One For The Vine , 12) Fountain Of Salmacis , 13) It/Watcher Of The Skies .

This has gotta be the world’s most deceptive album title – dual deceptive, actually. Originally, Three Sides Live ter its American punt wasgoed just spil it billed itself – three sides of the album were recorded live on the betrekking’s 1981 tour, and the fourth side wasgoed comprised of five contemporary studio cuts. I’ve never heard thesis, albeit Genesis ventilatoren usually don’t think much of them, except for the single ‘Paperlate’. However, the British version of the album had all four sides live, with the fourth side dumping the studio cuts and substituting them with some more ‘archive’ live recordings, taken from the verhouding’s voorstelling at Knebworth te 1978 and at a gig recorded spil early spil 1976 (which means you have Steve Hackett on one cut!!). Since then wij stepped into the CD age, and it wasgoed the British release that made it onto the CD. Now wij have a dual deception, heh heh: not only are there four sides live, there aren’t even any sides. They should have renamed it Two Discs Live! Next time, choose your album title more cautiously and with regards to the future, guys.

[Sidenote: I still don’t fairly understand why it wasn’t possible, given the CD format, to waterput both the American and the British side onto the re-issue. Even if the verhouding themselves thinks that the studio cuts were crappy, completists would still want ’em. Why give the bootleggers a chance? Sheez.]

Anyway, onwards to the music. Three Sides Live clearly can’t be anywhere near spil disappointing spil Seconds Out, spil by now the liaison had stepped rigidly into their synth-pop era and what with all the material from their last three albums piling up behind them, Phil wasn’t coerced any more to sing spil much old Gabriel material spil he used to. While that might have gravely disappointed the ventilatoren (there are, te fact, hilarious tales about Phil being almost booed off stage several times for singing ‘speelgoedpop crap’, when he bravely confronted the audience telling ’em to fuck off if they didn’t like the fresh material), this certainly assures you a safe and sound listening process. No clenched knuckles and yells about how you’d like to squash Collins’ neck for displacing the ‘Rael Imperial Aerosol Kid!’ line or for ruining the entire atmosphere of ‘I Know What I Like’.

The downside of this is that I gravely doubt if I’ll everzwijn get a need to waterput on the very first disc of this package again. The seven songs on there just replay the studio originals note-for-note, with differences so minor that I don’t want to even waste my time on comparisons. The only thing I noticed wasgoed Phil’s stupid near-scat singing on ‘Turn It On Again’ which eventually proved to mij that one thing Mr Collins has to always steer away from is improvisation. He’s truly a modest, insecure, not tremendously expressive bald chap who has enough trouble spil it is to sound nice and pleasing on the studio recordings, every time he attempts to sing something different ter a live setting, he just falls vapid. That said, the surplus of the song is played flawlessly. And the selection ain’t at all bad – I could undoubtedly do without the boring ‘Duchess’, but ‘Dodo’, ‘Abacab’, and ‘Mij &, Sarah Jane’ are three of the best cuts from Abacab, right? ‘Behind The Lines’ makes a nice interlude, and ‘Go after You Go after Mij’ brings the album to a nice close. And that’s it. You’ll never want to listen to thesis two sides again.

Disc Two is significantly different, however, and makes the purchase well worth possessing. The ",Third Side",, also comprised of 1981 recordings, gives all of you your favourite speelgoedpop song (‘Misunderstanding’, of course! What other speelpop song are you ready to kill your mother for?) with some more idiotic blubbering from Phil te the end, and your favourite Lump of Emotion ter ‘Afterglow’. However, it also has an excellent rendition of ‘Ter The Box’, preserving all the pressure and all the subtle mood shifts, with a elaborate and engaging instrumental coda borrowing elements from ‘The Cinema Vertoning’.

Ultimately, the infamous ",fourth side", is the grand prize you’ve all bot waiting for. Er. then again, maybe not fairly the grand prize – you’ll have to sit through the entire ten minutes of ‘One For The Vine’. Yep, you’ll have to tolerate that one, or maybe just skip through it. But pay some attention to the prompt instrumental mid-section: instead of the sophisticated drum pattern found on the studio original, Banks substitutes it with adorable ‘popping’ synth-noises that are fairly hilarious ter their own way. And then comes the truly cool stuff: a grand live version of the immortal classic ‘Fountain Of Salmacis’. Gabriel or no Gabriel on vocals, this is a beautiful version, actually, don’t leave behind that the original, found on Nursery Cryme, boasted piss-poor production, and if you weren’t aware that the song has beautiful vocal and instrumental melodies and some actual hooks, here’s the place to prove it.

Ultimately, the tape fizzles out with a 1976 recording of ‘It’. Real Hackett on real guitar! Total rapture and, like, rock nirvana. You know. ‘It is here, it is now. ‘. And ter a gezond of geniality, the plakband merges it with an instrumental section of ‘Watcher Of The Skies’, spil Tony gets on the Mellotron and seamlessly leads the relatie from the closing glorious chords of ‘It’ into the ethereal vastness of ‘Watcher Of The Skies’. This is grand, and reason enough to own the album if you’re not overpaying. Spil superfluous spil Three Sides Live essentially is, there’s no question that out of all the Collins-era live albums from Genesis, this is the one to own.

Oh! And what’s with the Who/Rory Gallagher reference of the album voorkant? Not only were thesis guys befuddling the customers’ brains with dual releases of the same album, they were also attempting to make it look like a bootleg! Very likely so that the customers would blame all the confusion on poor guiltless bootleggers. Hear, hear. What a violent scheme to take vengeance on a bunch of nice people.

Record rating = 8

Eventually, casting all ambitions aside, our favourite speelgoedpop group releases a unspoiled speelpop album, resulting ter a minor masterpiece.

Track listing: 1) Moeder , Two) That’s All , Trio) Huis By The Sea, Four) 2nd Huis By The Sea, Five) Illegal Alien, 6) Taking It All Too Hard, 7) Just A Job To Do, 8) Silver Rainbow , 9) It’s Gonna Get Better.

Drum machine sound salutes you from the very beginning of the album on ‘Moeder’, and you instantly get the uncomfy feeling that this is going to be Abacab vol. Two – synth/drum machine experimentation overheen clumsy melodies and not less clumsy singing. Well then, wrong you are (actually, I wasgoed wrong too, so that’s a self-insult rather than anything else). The album is a phat step up from Abacab. Well, not exactly gigantic if wij judge by the actual song quality, but big, I’d say, te the mental sphere. This album has no progressive ambitions at all. Sure, the lyrics are still cleverer and more entertaining than Fleetwood Mac, but chic from that, it’s all swift, pleasant, hummable speelpop.

And you know what? They’ve ultimately matured into writing catchy numbers – it took them about fifteen years to do so, but you can’t get away from the fact! Oh, I know this ain’t serious, but this ain’t banal, either, and at least they’re not repeating themselves – the melodies are pretty original, and the hooks are there, polished and shining like little gold doorhands. Just a good speelpop album. Explosions of bands were working ter the same style by the time, but Genesis were certainly ahead of everybody else simply because they were more experienced. Spil lifeless spil some of thesis arrangements are te theory, there’s enough conviction and energy to woo you that this should work despite all odds, and it does.

Yup, there’s practically no audible guitar on this album, and I doubt whether Phil everzwijn truly took up a drumstick, but Tony has bot tamed enough to refrain from overlong, pointless synth noodlings a lade Wind And Wuthering and mostly stuffs to playing amusing little passages (except for the nearly-instrumental ‘2nd Huis By The Sea’ where the betrekking takes a foolish decision to, er, ‘jam’ – I guess I should call it a ‘jam’, even tho’ it certainly ain’t one ter the real sense of the word), the drum machines aren’t annoying (te comparison, the murky sequence on ‘Keep It Dark’ has always spoiled my feelings towards that song), and the atmosphere is pleasant and inviting, with a slight touch of humour and intelligence.

Out of the songs you very likely know the klapper ‘That’s All’, and it is indeed the damn funniest and most memorable tune on the album, with one of my favourite Tony Banks organ solos of all time (and that’s because he actually goes after the insanely endearing catchy rhythmic pattern of the song instead of sprawling all overheen the place). But I could also name ‘Moeder’, a brilliant love-and-hate song that Phil pulls off ter his best, ‘screaming’ manner, with some panicking ‘ha-ha’s on the way, the dark, grimy atmosphere of the number swoops you inwards, and if there IS a place to truly appreciate Phil’s vocal stylizations, it’s here. It is somewhat similar to ‘Ter The Air Tonight’, one of Phil’s best solo compositions, but it’s far more piercing and panicking.

Minor highlights include the anti-anti-immigration song ‘Illegal Alien’ with its almost nursery refrain (and rather biting lyrics, I’d say), the consolative ‘Taking It All Too Hard’ where they manage to succesnummer those incredible notes (ter the refrain) that, combined with Phil’s tone, give the song a unique feeling of softness and passion (if you’re wondering what the hell I’m talking about, compare this with the refrain to ‘No Reply At All’: it’s the same impression), the rambunctious Killer Anthem ‘Just A Job To Do’, and the gorgeous ballad ‘Silver Rainbow’ (if you’re not able to appreciate the lines where Phil sings ‘you won’t know where you’re coming or you’re going. ‘, the only thing I can say is you have a way too hard alergy on synth-pop).

All of thesis have solid melodies te them, and, like I said, you can’t deny the lyrics: even the love songs are indeed deep and psychological. Maybe it had something to do with Phil’s private traumas and practice (his latest divorce, etc.), but I indeed don’t know much about that period te their lives, so forgive mij beforehand.

It has a few downsides, of course: a duo songs are below average, like the closing boggy ‘It’s Gonna Get Better’, typical optimistic filler to close the album with, and the lengthy ‘Huis By The Sea/2nd Huis By The Sea’ has never managed to fascinate mij. Also, if you all of a sudden take a foolish decision to waterput this record on right after (or before) Foxtrot, you’ll get a jumpy breakdown which is certainly bad for your health and even worse for the development of your musical taste. It’s like listening to Bridges To Babylon right after Goopy Fingers. Something like that.

Still, I insist that if you listen to all of Genesis albums ter chronological order, you won’t even notice the sleek transgression from the 1971-72 level onto what they had metamorphosed into ter a decade – all of the switches were occurring so leisurely and step by step that each album embarking from Selling England and ending with Genesis (and further, too) sounds just a wee bit different from its predecessor, but cannot be said to not wield any taut linksaf with it. And if you attempt to go after that development, be sure not to get guided entirely by the genre trappings (like, ‘this is prog and I like it’, ‘oh no, this is speelpop and I hate it’, or vice versa, you know), and you might come to regard thesis early Eighties albums spil high spil I do.

Good work, boys! This is certainly their best since Trick Of The Tail, and it shows how Phil’s songwriting abilities have matured at this point.

Record rating = Five

Actually, a very visible touch. A touch of drummachinnitis and synthesizeritis.


Track listing: 1) Invisible Touch, Two) Tonight Tonight Tonight , Three) Land Of Confusion , Four) Ter Too Deep, Five) Anything She Does, 6) Domino, 7) Throwing It All Away, 8) The Brazilian.

Ugh. No doubt about it, this one’s is a little too much speelpop. Very first off, what happened to the lyrics? Genesis actually doing love songs? Simplistic love songs? Trivial love songs? Accessible love songs? ‘Tonight Tonight Tonight’? ‘Anything She Does’? Of course, Phil wasgoed already used to doing love songs on his solo albums, but couldn’t he propose something better to the tape that once wasgoed famous for telling tales about Hermaphrodites and Salmacis or battles inbetween humans and giant hogweeds? And yeah, I’m flawlessly aware of the fact that they began drifting towards love thematics fairly a while ago (‘Your Own Special Way’ on Wind And Wuthering actually embarked it, didn’t it?), but here this is all much too demonstrable. Also, fairly a lotsbestemming of songs are trite, skeleton-less ditties ideally getraind for the radio but certainly not gezond for aging on anybody’s shelf. The title track, for example, could have bot done by just anybody ter the business, and considering the fact that Phil just isn’t a truly superb singer, it would certainly be done better by just about anybody else. Almost totally emotionless emotional song. Not very catchy, too.

And ‘Land Of Confusion’? There is some kleintje of desperate vibe ter the verses, but it’s the chorus that amply demonstrates the song’s datedness to us. ‘This is the world wij live te. O-O-OH. And thesis are the mitts wij’re given. O-O-OH. ‘ Speelgoedpop gospel? Gospel speelpop? Yairs. It’s still a highlight on this album (not to mention the groovy movie, but that’s beyond the subject of the actual review).

Now wait, wait a minute, I don’t truly want to say this album blows it entirely (like Clapton’s August that wasgoed produced by same Collins same year). There are enough hooks te the songs, and masterful hooks at that, to pull it off and to be able to voorkeur that the album does have substance and isn’t all just built around tracks pleasant to dance to and nothing else. Thus, the lengthy ‘Tonight Tonight Tonight’, tho’ certainly not deserving to be nine minutes long (it’s a speelpop song for Chrissake! What were they attempting to do – progressivize speelgoedpop radio?), is a truly clever song that has to be listened to several times ter order to be appreciated. ‘Ter Too Deep’ is kinda touching, and ‘Anything She Does’ is at least prompt, but not te a techno way or something.

The major point of controversy about the album is the ten-minute epic ‘Domino’, obviously the album’s chunk den resistance. Some view it spil just another tedious and boring speelpop song, while others praise it spil the only slight peek of ‘progressivism’ due to its length and more or less ‘serious’, sometimes even apocalyptic, lyrical content. Not to mention that it’s multi-part, building from a slow, minor key shuffle to a fast-paced, discoish beaty song featuring all kinds of tricky synth riffs and cool drum parts. Personally, I think it’s okay: not spil bad spil a generic Banks fiesta, but certainly not spil good spil the average Gabriel marathon. Again, it might just be due to Phil’s unimpressive singing, but more probable is the punt of lack of diversity ter the arrangements: same old stuff, same old stuff from the boys again. ‘Moeder’ said it all much better and much shorter. Ultimately, the closing instrumental ‘The Brazilian’, Banks’ showcase, is also viewed by many spil a good prog instrumental, and indeed it’s not uninteresting, being based on a solid synth riff instead of the usual diffluent sulky chord sequences.

But no matter what kleuter of good words I might be telling about the material, it is still much too generic to be truly liked. If anything, thesis guys were no longer producing a revolution – when drum machines, poppy synths and power speelpop itself were still fresh and fresh, they did sound invigorating and, well, I can fully justify their turning away from progressive style at the time (at least they evaded degenerating into something like Asia, which they were tied to degenerate into otherwise). Genesis marked the peak of that. But here, well, they’re mostly recycling older successes, if not worse. I’ll be the very first to admit that Collins did develop a good songwriting style by the time. But. much spil I like hooks and catchy choruses, thesis things ain’t everything – you gotta have substance spil well. I see little substance ter Invisible Touch, if you don’t consider Banksynth noodlings substance, of course.

For the defence – all considered, thesis points can be deep throated away with a ordinary statement: there ain’t a single bad song on the album. They’re mostly flawed, and they’re mostly commercialized, and mostly overlong, and mostly based on solo Collins work and all, but when I look at the track listing, I can associate a certain photo te my mind with every name, and that’s indeed something. (Te comparison, each time I look at the track listing for Eric Clapton’s August, produced by Phil Collins and released the same year, all I get is ‘Lad! Pssht!’). The guys worked. The guys had some good ideas, which they mostly slaughtered with stupid production and all, but, after all, a good idea that’s bot slaughtered is still miles better than a bad idea that’s bot revived. Heck, why didn’t they hire mij spil producer? Of course, I wasgoed only ten years old at the time and didn’t know crap about music or anything, but, like, considering that thesis guys were te their fourties and knew everything about music, wouldn’t my position be an advantage?

Oh! Unnecessary to say, the album made them even thicker superstars than they were by the time. Half or more of the compositions were radio favourites, so you very likely heard the entire album without buying it. Gee, but time does keurig the mistakes, doesn’t it?

Record rating = Trio

More like, you know, a Phil Collins solo album. Why he had to stick the ‘Genesis’ moniker on it is beyond mij.

Best song: I CAN’T DANCE

Track listing: 1) No Son Of Mine , Two) Jesus He Knows Mij , Trio) Driving The Last Spike , Four) I Can’t Dance , Five) Never A Time, 6) Dreaming While You Sleep, 7) Tell Mij Why, 8) Living Forever, 9) Hold On My Heart , Ten) Way Of The World, 11) Since I Lost You, 12) Fading Lights .

Maybe good old Phil wasgoed just lending his old pals Tony and Mike a helping mitt to build up some effortless bucks? Whatever. After a five year pauze, when all chances of observing Genesis on the road again seemed to be more or less equal to chances of John Lennon coming down from the sky and joining compels with, say, Peter Gabriel for example, Phil abruptly switched his mind and determined he dreamed to keep the tape after all. The album, spil everybody knows, wasgoed yet another hefty success for the speelgoedpop Genesis, yielding fountains of succesnummer singles, top rank movies and stuff like that. Te retrospect, tho’, the entire affair stinks badly, and, frankly speaking, it’s truly hard to get into the album, if you toevluchthaven’t taken a Collins-addiction course beforehand.

Very first of all, since they’d already stepped into the CD age, the album is deadly long – more than seventy minutes, which means that, good or bad the song, it’s trussed to haul for ages until it deep throats your brains out. Unnecessary to say, the worse the song is, the longer it usually hauls: the totally faceless speelgoedpop rocker ‘Driving The Last Spike’, for example, drives mij so much outa my mind that I don’t even notice when it eventually ceases to terrorize mij, I’m already te a total state of coma. Had they sorted out things and diminished the song lengths and thrown out some of the more annoying filler, this might have bot interpreted spil a half-decent mainstream speelgoedpop effort, spil such, it is a grotesque, ridiculous brain-annihilating monster to be loathed.

2nd, like I said, this is more of a Phil Collins solo album, which means that you’d better leave behind your love for specific musical instruments, the arrangements are exceptionally messy and unentertaining, cuz the only accent is placed on the ritme (ter the rapid songs) and the mood (te the slow ones). I can’t even complain about Banksynths on here – they’re so te the background, together with the guitars, that you hardly everzwijn notice them. Oh, beg your sorry, ladies and gentlemen. Paramours of ‘prog Genesis’, please pay attention to the closing track: ‘Fading Lights’. It’s also long like everything else, but this time it’s a special progressive length, with some large extended noodlings by Tony and company. If you’re the kleuter of dude who likes Invisible Touch because it has ‘Domino’ on it, you’ll certainly love ‘Fading Lights’ spil well. Funny, isn’t it? Even if their last three or four records were anything but progressive, they always made sure to insert one lengthy suite there so that the older ventilatoren wouldn’t be entirely disappointed. Of course, real older ventilatoren didn’t indeed give a damn, but fairly a lotsbestemming were very likely deceived into buying thesis records and having to suffer stuff like ‘Who Dunnit?’, ‘That’s All’, ‘Ter Too Deep’ and ‘I Can’t Dance’ for the sake of ‘Dodo’, ‘Huis By The Sea’, ‘Domino’ and ‘Fading Lights’. Hah!

Oh, did I explicitly mention yet that ‘Fading Lights’ stinks? One of the worst everzwijn put-ons ter Genesis’ entire career. Pompous wording plus atmospheric Banksynths playing important-sounding, but meaningless notes does not a classic ‘progressive tune’ make.

Anyway, there are about three or four clever speelgoedpop songs on this album that I’m able to listen to without falling asleep. Without any regret or regret or anything I clearly state that I simply love ‘I Can’t Dance’: ter fact, this might be the greatest ‘zuivere speelgoedpop’ song the liaison everzwijn did. The grumbling guitar riff, crystal clear singing and Phil’s humorous self-bashing truly make this number, and spil far spil I reminisce, I even used to love the accompanying movie. Note also how well Phil managed to express his life philosophy ter one sentence: ‘I can’t dance, I can’t sing, I’m just standing here selling everything’. Pretty much applies to everything he did te the past fifteen or twenty years, ain’t it? Okay, okay, joking. then again, he did manage to sell almost everything possible.

Fine. There’s also the catchy ‘Jesus He Knows Mij’, a song with more or less elementary lyrics denouncing religious hypocrisy (didn’t the movie feature Phil spil a preacher?) and a ‘modern’ rapid melody that still gets mij going. Okay, at least it isn’t techno or something. ‘No Son Of Mine’ is also an interesting speelpop number. But that’s about it. The surplus is either horrendous (‘highlights’ include the ridiculous save-the-poor-rocker ‘Tell Mij Why’, not to be confused with the Beatles song), or, more often, just booorring. Songs like ‘Hold On My Heart’ seem to be taken directly from some abandoned Collins solo outtakes: sweet adult speelgoedpop that has nothing to do with good taste or, rather, is an offense to good taste. Indeed, the 2nd part of the album is practically all forgettable (and that’s more than half an hour of music), until you arrive at the final ‘Fading Lights’ to immerse yourself into ten minutes of bad progressive rock which you still view spil an escape from the realms of bullshit speelgoedpop entertainment for mass consumption.

My question is: what wasgoed the role of Banks and Rutherford te the making of this album? ‘Fading Lights’ excluded, I don’t indeed see the possibility of any of them two taking responsibility for anything else on the record. Seems just like Phil walked up to them one day and said, ‘look, I got this here dozen of songs and I want ’em to sport the Genesis logo. If you agree, you’ll get a explosion of specie for that, otherwise, you’ll end up ter the gutter’. Somebody onberispelijk mij if I’m wrong, but something inwards mij tells mij that the essence is very similar. And while you’re looking for an reaction, don’t leave behind to remind you not to buy this album – the best songs can lightly be looked up on a compilation. Better still, look for Live: The Way Wij Walk, the review for which you’re gonna be liking right away.


Record rating = 6

What bugs mij about all thesis washed-up superstar live albums is that they tend to substitute greatest hits collections.

Track listing: 1) Land Of Confusion, Two) No Son Of Mine, Trio) Jesus He Knows Mij , Four) Throwing It All Away, Five) I Can’t Dance, 6) Moeder , 7) Hold On My Heart , 8) That’s All, 9) Te Too Deep, Ten) Tonight Tonight Tonight, 11) Invisible Touch.

Evidently the success of ‘I Can’t Dance’ got so much to Phil’s head that he determined to build the pic of the succeeding live album on the concept. Hence the lengthy title and the voorkant picture where the liaison plus supporting musicians are indeed doing some ‘cut-offs’. Don’t indeed know whether that contributed to the album sales or not, but the tour itself wasgoed fairly successful – even my father who’s not indeed a superb Genesis fan got to see them te Germany and, well, he did appreciate them. Mij, unluckily, I got to appreciate them based entirely on this hour-long audio documentary, and you know what? It’s worthy.

Ter fact, whatever reproaches I may hold towards the studio albums, there’s little to scold about the live album. Oh, of course there’s the usual complaint – it simply has no reason to exist. While Seconds Out wasgoed interesting at least te that it talent us the chance to see Phil playing the part of Peter (whether wij liked it or not, that’s fully a matter of individual taste), and Genesis Live is nowadays simply a priceless ‘document’ from the old days long gone by, this album is neither: the days are still youthful and they’re not doing Gabriel material on here. So? So I simply treat it spil the omschrijving of a klapper collection, because the song selection is strong. The material is based exclusively on the last three albums, but it manages to omit most of the dreck and include all of the worthy tunes. With one blatant exception, however. Horrendous exception, and I can only explain its inclusion by Phil’s wanting the album to be appreciated by sweetie-slicky speelgoedpop paramours. Yup, you guessed right, it’s the atrocious ‘Hold On My Heart’ – that candy-romantic schlock that could flawlessly gezond Santa Barbara, but not your average good taste. It’s dreadful, and I ditched the album a entire point for it. Why not ‘Illegal Alien’ or ‘Abacab’ instead? Never mind, please zekering mij from digressing.

The surplus is good, anyways. From Genesis, you get ‘Moeder’ that’s even better than the original, with Phil obviously delighting te his evil ‘HA-HAs’. Maybe I feel that it’s the particular standout on the album because it’s the only menacing and adrenaline-filled number – but why not? ‘Menace’ is uncommonly met te Genesis’ catalog and it always makes things more titillating if it’s real-soundin’ menace. And ‘That’s All’ never stopped ruling spil well, albeit Phil lets the song a little down by singing offkey te particular places. Well, yeah, whatever, bro’r, it’s a live setting and you wanna showcase your being a human and all, that’s understood, but problem is, ‘That’s All’ is so mechanic te its bounciness it truly leaves absolutely no spot for vocal modulation. One step to the left, one step to the right, and you RUIN it. Fortunately, not totally, so I’m still amazed.

From Invisible Touch you get the main bulk: ‘Land Of Confusion’, the title track, ‘Throwing It All Away’ (hideous intro! hideous intro! Collins should be slok for even attempting to fucktoy with the audience), ‘Te Too Deep’ and an unexplicably abbreviated ‘Tonight Tonight Tonight’. Ter fact, the abbreviation saddens mij a little: while the long version did have some abstract ‘serious’ musical value, here it is just transformed into a crowd-pleaser. What the heck, it still has a nice melody.

Ultimately, from the last studio album wij mostly get the few good cuts (I’m not including ‘Hold On My Heart’, of course): ‘No Son Of Mine’, ‘Jesus He Knows Mij’ (preceded by a little funny spoken intro from Phil) and, of course, ‘I Can’t Dance’ which is severely extended. I’ll just have to guess that the song formed the orgasm to their concerts, spil Phil wasgoed attempting to please the freshly converted ventilatoren, and they all took this funny little walk-cross-the-stage te addition. Stupid question: why is it that the ventilatoren sit quiet te the beginning when they do that witty percussion thing and then the crowd cracks into a rabid roar of approval with the very first ‘b-doink!’ sound on the song, instead of the grumbly guitar riff? Are the ‘b-doinks!’ the most significant thing on here?

Of course, nobody is expected to buy this album nowadays. Still, if you want to save some money, you’re well advised to screw both Invisible Touch and Wij Can’t Dance and invest here instead. Why not? The production is fine, the playing is immaculate (how could Phil let his live album be a messy recording?), and, like I said, the song selection is satisfying. If I were the Lord, I would make ‘Hold On My Heart’ vanish from the list, of course, and substitute it with, say, ‘Silver Rainbow’ for an even more definitive status, but so far I’m just a nasty snub-nosed reviewer who takes pleasure ter finding all kinds of minor faults even on good live albums. What good is a live album if you can’t find a fault ter it, anyway? Not even Live At Leeds is flawless! Oh, yeah, well, you caught mij telling this. ssh, don’t tell anybody, but I indeed dislike the very first, slow part of ‘Fortune Teller’.

So if even Leeds is not volmaakt, what’s to be said of an openly crappy late-period album from a tape with a bald percussionist, a bearded bassist and an evil-looking keyboardist who can’t even dance? Okay, well, it does have the definite live version of ‘Moeder’, now doesn’t it?


Record rating = 6

Still aspiring for progressive heights? No way, bros.

Best song: OLD MEDLEY

Track listing: 1) Old Medley, Two) Driving The Last Spike, Trio) Domino, Four) Fading Lights, Five) Huis By The Sea/2nd Huis By The Sea, 6) Drum Duet.

If there everzwijn wasgoed a reason to release this and the previous album packaged separately (and evidently, with several months of delay after the very first one), it’d be to make life lighter for the two branches of Genesis ventilatoren. The speelgoedpop Genesis paramours could grab the Cut-offs, and then along would come the serious prog dudes and grab the Longs. And everybody would be glad. (Which makes mij gravely wonder about the average quality of audiences at Genesis concerts, is it ‘prog ventilatoren on the left’, ‘speelpop ventilatoren on the right’, and then Phil sings one song to the left side and the next song to the right side? While ducking the tomatoes and all?).

Te any case, this Longs thing is rather pitiful. It’s not all that bad, but it’s pitiful. It’s also offensive to older generation ventilatoren, because despite all the pretention, the real progressive stuff is all shoved together into one twenty-minute track called ‘Old Medley’, after which the tape proceeds to do all their lengthy songs kicking off from 1983. Huh. Imagine Mick Jagger and the boys doing an ‘old medley’ of, say, ‘Satisfaction/Brown Sugar/Sympathy For The Demon/It’s Only Rock’n’Roll/Honky Tonk Women/Jumpin’ Jack Flash’ and then spending the surplus of the evening playing all those indeed hot chestnuts off Undercover, Dirty Work, and Stengel Wheels. Including a ten-minute groove on ‘It Voorwaarde Be Hell’ and Eddie Vedder guest starring on ‘Hold Back’.

Well, all I can say is that the average Genesis audience is pretty forgiving. At least the songs are well performed, or whatever they are. ‘Driving The Last Spike’ and ‘Fading Lights’ are done very close to the original versions, but with Phil adding some reserve spontaneous energy to the proceedings (of course, the songs still suck, but hey, I can’t imagine them doing thesis things on stage worse than ter the studio). ‘Domino’ and ‘Huis By The Sea/2nd Huis By The Sea’ are pretty good, however, and I love them across. But truly, there’s nothing to be said about the songs – Genesis never truly bothered with switching their Eighties material on stage. Why should they? The ventilatoren want precies recreations!

So let’s concentrate on this ridiculous ",Old Medley", idea. One could spend hours debating about whether cramming all the ‘classics’ together truly took all the soul out of them or it left at least a little bit, but ",soul", is a tricky thing that can’t be discussed all too well outside the boundaries of a Matchbox 20 review. So instead, I’ll just say this: the ",Old Medley", is no better and no worse than your average Collins-led spectacle of Gabriel-era material. Actually, the medley starts with a epistel resum from a post-Gabriel number, ‘Dancing On A Volcano’. It’s a good resum, but WAY too geschreven. From there it segues into ‘The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway’, which is good but also epistel. Phil does a good job on that one, I personally think that it’s lighter for him to capture the ‘angry Gabriel’ vibe than the ‘mellow Gabriel’ vibe. He also does justice to the closing segment of ‘The Musical Opbergruimte’, but oh those poor Invisible Touch ventilatoren.

From then on, it kinda goes downhill. They launch into the instrumental part of ‘Firth Of Fifth’, where Darryl Stuermer gets to play Steve Hackett’s part. And I do pity the dude – rock conventions kinda request of him to play the solo ter his own way, but playing that solo te a different way is a nigh unlikely thing since it’s one of the most meticulously created and calculated solos everzwijn. So, Darryl does his best to ‘entwine’ his own fills and passages around the main passage, periodically playing a phrase or two note for note, but then playing some different speedy quasi-hair-metal passage ter another place. Eventually you get used to this inescapable bastardization, but at very first the feeling is that of total confusion. That’s what you get for pushing out talented tape members, Mr Banks.

Still, overall, ‘Firth Of Fifth’ ain’t nowhere near spil confusing or annoying spil ‘I Know What I Like’ – the worst bastardization occurs on here spil usual. (Funny thing – everything I’ve bot accusing the tape of on Seconds Out actually works here spil well). Save your ad libs and raspy note extensions for the shower, Mr Collins, give us the real thing! I also have no idea why during the last ‘jam’ portion of the song, Phil feels the necessity to splurt out excerpts from ‘That’s All’, ‘Illegal Alien’, ‘Your Own Special Way’ and ‘Go after You Go after Mij’. Wasgoed this a promotion of the upcoming greatest hits compilation or what?

But don’t get mij wrong – I’m not bashing this album. I’m overall more positive towards it than negative, even if it’s only by a skinny open up. Maybe the guys don’t have joy playing the ‘Medley’, I dunno, maybe they’re just throwing it te to please the few older ventilatoren who sometimes turn up at the shows by mistake thinking they’re going to a Yes muziekstuk, or the ones suffering from amnesia. But it still sounds good. Heck, this all sounds okay except for ‘Driving The Last Spike’ and ‘Fading Lights’ which are a disgrace to the entire prog movement. And the album concludes with a cool ‘Drum Duet’, when Phil ultimately occupies his deserved percussionist spot and battles with Chester Thompson for six minutes. It doesn’t sound too convenient spil a conclusion, but having thesis two ultra-professional drummers bash the hell out of each other is real joy anyway.

And the album voorkant is cool, too! Mike Rutherford is gay!! Tony Banks is a concealed Lesbo!! Spil for the sexual orientations of the others, I don’t even know what to suggest. Looks pretty kinky to mij.


Record rating = 0 [sorry]

What the hell is THIS SHIT? Horrendous zero-tone music serving spil cosmic rock lullabies?

Best song: CONGO, but it’s actually horrible.

Track listing: 1) Calling All Stations , Two) Congo, Three) Shipwrecked, Four) Alien Afternoon, Five) Not About Us , 6) If That’s What You Need , 7) The Dividing Line , 8) Uncertain Weather , 9) Petite Talk , Ten) There Voorwaarde Be Some Other Way , 11) One Man’s Idiot .

When Phil Collins announced he wasgoed quitting the relatie for good (a rather strange stir, since nobody everzwijn prevented him from preserving the plakband and getting on with his own solo career spil well), he most likely thought Mike and Tony would disband the unhappy, violated group and just get on with their solo careers. He wasgoed dead wrong, and if he were able to preview the ensuing catastrophe, he’d most likely have switched his mind. Because Tony and Mike thought they still weren’t done with the tape. Unluckily. Instead, they recruited ex-Stiltskin member Ray Wilson, proclaimed him to be the next Peter Gabriel and determined to get artsy again. They didn’t, however, take into account the fact that none of the two indeed remembered how to write good kunst rock music, since, fairly naturally, they hadn’t truly done that for about twenty years now. The result is this album deep throats. Not just deepthroats – it’s abominable. It’s the kleuter of music that I’ve bot consciously (or, well, at least subconsciously) attempting to get away all my life – pseudo-prog rock, utter of monotonous mechanic hammers, abate, dead-sounding synth backgrounds, and an ultra-pretentious feel from guys who truly don’t know what they’re doing or where they’re going but pretend to think that they do. It’s murder, and after sitting through this record the suitable three times (which actually took a week – listening to three songs off this album ter a row puts you te a coma) I’m so sick that I doubt I’ll everzwijn waterput on a Gabriel-less Genesis record again.

On with the demonstrate, tho’. Very first of all, if Ray Wilson’s voice is indeed close to Peter Gabriel’s, spil Banks rashly proclaimed, then count mij spil the next Maria Callas. Somebody with a acute mind on the Netwerk remarked that Wilson actually sounds like George Michael te a drug-induced coma, and I wholeheartedly agree. Spil much spil I resent Collins’ voice, it’s simply incomparable ter richness, multiplicity and expressivity. Ray just whines all the way through the album spil if he wasgoed totally and exclusively computer-processed. Add to this the tired, monotonous sound of drums going ter four-four all overheen the record, some generic hard guitar riffs from Mike (Mike &, The Mechanics days, no doubt, and the worst elements of Banksynths, and you get yourself an album about spil memorable and diverse spil an hour-long roaring of a subway train. And yes, you heard right – the album is more than an hour long. What a volmaakt torment for the Nazis. The album should have come out te Germany around 1939 or so!

What puzzles mij so much, actually, is that they seemed to truly care about the album! Most of the tracks are written with enough care so spil not to lose their ‘speelgoedpop’ audiences, at the same time attracting older ‘prog’ ventilatoren. That is, while the ‘prog’ ventilatoren should be attracted to the album due to Banksynths, its generic ‘cosmic rock’ feel and Wilson’s pathetic and universalist singing, the ‘speelgoedpop’ ventilatoren were very likely deemed to be pleased with the ‘catchy’ refrains on songs like ‘Congo’ or ‘If That’s What You Need’. But both sides are eventually just a big, big, big put-on – and nothing else. Oooooh. ‘Congo’, with its samba ritme, is actually the closest thing to a welvoeglijk song on the album, but the opstelling is so horrendous that it’s only possible to call this an embryonic good song.

All the other songs are totally predictable, so predictable they’re not at all worth discussing individually. All are taken at the same tempo, all are played with the same limited bunch of instruments, and all are packed with Wilson’s unstructured whinings. There’s not even a halfway welgevoeglijk guitar or synthesizer solo anywhere ter look. I could have written a song spil good spil the title track ter undoubtedly no time, because this one isn’t actually a song. How can you call a ‘song’ something that has no melody? Okay, so ‘Congo’, ‘Shipwrecked’ and very likely ‘Alien Afternoon’ could have bot elaborated into something better than this actual tripe, given some zindelijk and diverse arrangements, but they weren’t. Instead, everything is just diminished to the same boring generic ‘cosmic rock’ formula – didn’t the word ‘diversity’ everzwijn occur to Tony and the ever-worsening Mike? And by the way, if they pretend this to be a terugwedstrijd to form, where’s the guitar? The acoustic intro to ‘Not About Us’ certainly doesn’t please mij at all.

Oh, leave behind it, it’s worthless even to accuse this album of something particular, it is worth nothing less than a death sentence.

Hate, hate, hate this album. It’s a vile parody on the real Genesis, and of course it has nothing to do with Peter Gabriel or anything. Peter Gabriel used to take you different places and waterput you te the midst of beautiful fairy tales, this ‘anti-Genesis’ slams you out te the orbit and just whines about the world’s ugliness like millions of less and more talented musicians before them. Boycott this album, it’s an insult to the Genesis legacy. And shouldn’t wij disqualify Tony Banks forever?

For objectivity reasons, however, I should state that some ventilatoren actually like this album. With all due respect, I don’t even see why it is necessary to go out of one’s way and make such a perverse effort to overcome one’s psychics – I mean, if Calling All Stations were at least an innovative record, unlistenable te its pioneering experimental status or something, but no, it’s just an ordinary generic synth-pop bore. And I’m certainly not lulled overheen by the ‘oh it’s so atmospheric and moody and intensely depressive’ stuff. An ‘atmospheric’ album released ter, say, 1967, is one thing, but an ‘atmospheric’ album released thirty years zometeen should actually EARN the right to be called ‘atmospheric’, what with the word having bot so dreadfully misused and cliched. It takes talent and skill to build up atmosphere, not just a bunch of monotonous synths, generic metal riffs and a whiny so-called ‘singer’ on top.

Record rating = 8

You sure they couldn’t have made this boxset just a lil’ more valuable than it actually is?

Best song: pretty much all of Disc Three

Track listing: CD I &, II: see the Lamb Lies Down On Broadway tracklist,

Biggie biggie. Genesis solidify their rechtsvordering to being the best prog-rock relatie of all time by releasing the best prog boxset of all time. Well, okay, this time around by ",best", I solely mean ",least redundant",. You can very likely get some sort of rarities and stuff with boxsets that ELP, Yes, and the like are putting out, but with this (spil well spil the 2nd archive volume) you get stuff that you are unlikely to get anywhere else until you’re truly into the bootleg thing.

That means – up one for Genesis! The bad news is that they don’t seem to indeed have a loterijlot of stuff te the vaults. And what they do have is actually not tremendously amazing. Even so, they did a hell of a job with the boxset, and I’m actually throwing on a point merely because this is how boxsets are supposed to be done. Good vormgeving, too – the format is tremendously classy.

Now the liner notes state that the demos and outtakes on the fourth CD are more or less going ",rearwards", te time, from the straks to the earlier ones, but ter reality, the same can be said about all four CDs te general. Discs 1 and Two are a finish live spectacle of The Lamb, recorded at The Shrine Gehoorzaal ter Los Angeles ter January ’75, disc Trio is a set of live recordings, mostly drawn from the Rainbow Theatre spectacles te 1973, plus a duo single tracks from same period, eventually, disc Four are the demos and outtakes from various early recording sessions and Big black cock gigs.

Since the live and studio material are so vividly opposed, let’s discuss the studio recordings very first. Frankly speaking, the fourth disc is not all that classy. Schepper knows I like FGTR spil much spil the next dude (actually, much more than the next boy, come to think of it), and the demo versions of such minor gems spil ‘Ter The Wilderness’, ‘Ter The Beginning’, ‘One Day’, and ‘The Slang’ (here called ‘She Is Beautiful’ and featuring a downright different – and far more pre-pubescent! – set of lyrics) are just spil good spil the ones captured te more ",professional", arrangements on the plakband’s unfortunate debut, albeit I would certainly like to state that the production values of FGTR are nowhere near spil melody-ruining spil some eis they are.

However, the surplus of the songs are. uhh. well, at best, not too memorable, should wij say? Evidently, all thesis outtakes weren’t rejected for nothing – unlike the better songs that did make it, stuff like ‘The Mystery Of The Flannan Isle Lighthouse’ or ‘The Magic Of Time’ just don’t seem to feature any hooks at all. They indeed sound like work-in-progress versions – Banks absent-mindedly hammering at his keys, Rutherford (or Ant Philips, whoever) absent-mindedly plunking the guitar, and Peter singing something indeed emotional and pretentious but without seeming to understand his purpose very clearly. It actually gets worse with the murky Big black cock recordings from 1970 (who let the guys te the studio?) – they’re stepping into the Trespass era, when the objective is to make the songs even longer and even more pretentious, but the aim is not yet to attempt and create any epochal melodies. Stuff like ‘Shepherd’ and ‘Pacidy’ just seems to go on forever without getting anywhere – ugh! A piano virtuoso could most likely help here, but this stuff is where Mr Banks’ limitations are to be seen ter all their obviousness.

Ter the end, I kinda took a liking to the stately – and vaguely memorable – hippiesque charm of ‘Let Us Now Make Love’, spil well spil to the mildly apocalyptic glitter of ‘Going Out To Get You’, a bit similar to ‘One-Eyed Hound’ te mood. But te general, the songs are disappointing, albeit I can’t truly waterput that up against them: outtakes are outtakes, and the boxset is primarily aimed at fanatics anyway. But no, no eye-opening discoveries here.

Much better news are the two studio recordings on Disc Trio (the third one is the abridged single version of ‘Watcher Of The Skies’). The flop single ‘Blessed The Man’, which actually spil much spil inspired a entire fresh third-generation prog-band for the choice of their name, is somewhat of a ‘Fortunate Man’ for the tape – a light little acoustic ballad, somewhat confused, I’d say, but prettier and funnier than most of the brief stuff on Nursery Cryme (brochure ‘Harold The Barrel’, of course). But the major discovery is the B-side to ‘I Know What I Like’, called ‘Twilight Alehouse’. Ter fact, I dare say that if the betrekking cut ‘Epping Forest’ by about three minutes, cut ‘The Cinema Showcase’ by about four minutes, and inserted the song ter there, Selling England would have bot much more volmaakt than it actually is. (At the very least, they could have made it a voortdurend toeslag track on the CD kwestie – hell, why not?). The weird ",boppy",, almost danceable, rhythmic structure of the verse is a total anomaly for early Genesis, but it works – and works even better when pinned against the general darkness and pessimism of the song. And towards the end, the song starts to rock, with Steve playing some ferocious passages, and then it has a impetuous ‘Knife’-style coda with mind-blowing ",astral", sound passages. Volmaakt. Too bad you have to purchase the opbergruimte nowadays if you wanna hear it.

But chic from ‘Alehouse’, it is of course the live stuff that keeps the opbergruimte afloat. The Lamb spectacle has often bot waterput down because of the infamous vocal overdubs that Peter did on much, if not most, of the tracks, fearing that the actual sound quality wasgoed below subpar (and subsequently Hackett re-recorded some of his guitar parts spil well). I would certainly have preferred to hear the original, even te bad quality, but the essential thing here is still to hear the music the way it wasgoed done on stage. And pretty often, it wasgoed done better on stage – for example, ‘Back Ter N.Y.C.’ sounds nowhere near spil ugly spil it does te the original version, and also Hackett gets more of a chance to shine (unless, of course, it’s the re-recorded solos I’m talking about. breathe. ). Plus, you get to hear Peter’s brief little ",explaining", passages before some of the songs – maybe it’ll help you to ",get", the story. Oh, and since the tapes for the display ran out towards the end (I can’t believe thesis stories every time I hear them – what, aren’t they supposed to predict how long the voorstelling is going to take?), the relatie has specially re-recorded ‘It’ for this particular occasion. Still a fine song, of course.

The best live stuff is still on Disc Three, which should from now on act spil a flawless companion to Genesis Live – it repeats none of the songs captured on there, instead concentrating on the Selling England material and throwing te a Gabriel-led version of ‘Supper’s Ready’ (score!). The Selling England spectacles have to be heard to be believed – awesome sound quality and awesome musicianship, albeit personally, I dislike the fact that onstage Tony substitutes his piano parts for synth parts, this very likely leads to the fact that ‘Firth Of Fifth’ never has its magnificent piano intro played live, and when te the instrumental part, the keyboards arrive after the flute part, it’s muddy mushy watery synth again, and it sounds cranky. Still, everything else rules. Phil gets to do his little solo spot on ‘More Loser Mij’, and Gabriel tells the classic two-and-a-half-minute story about Henry and the worms (together with a belated ‘sorry man, I’m truly sorry, I wasn’t paying attention to what you were doing’ excuse from Phil when he misses his cue) before launching into ‘Supper’s Ready’. There’s also an early live vertoning of ‘Stagnation’, and oh yeah, the live version of ‘I Know What I Like’ is ten times spil good spil any of the versions of the song te the Collins era.

And there you have it – lotsa goodies for the seasoned fan (not truly significant for the novice, tho’), a book total of different people’s takes on the essence of Genesis and cool photos, and overall, I don’t think they could have done better. Prob’ly not.

Record rating = 8

Much maligned, mayhaps, but odd enough, there may be more unspoiled creativity captured here than on the previous volume.

Best song: uh. no.

Track listing: CD I: 1) On The Shoreline, Two) Hearts On Fire, Three) You Might Recall, Four) Paperlate, Five) Evidence Of Autumn, 6) Do The Neurotic , 7) I’d Rather Be You, 8) Naminanu, 9) Inwards And Out , Ten) Feeding The Fire, 11) I Can’t Dance 12",, 12) Submarine ,

No kidding – I think this 2nd (and hopefully last, surely they’re not going to do an Archive 1997-1998 volume with three CDs worth of live spectacles and. ehh. studio outtakes from the Ray Wilson era?) installation te the Archive series is just spil good, if not marginally better, spil the very first one. Naturally, most reviewers and ventilatoren of the good old days praised the very first archive and panned, or at least, gravely rebuked the 2nd one, observing spil how the very first volume embraces the ",glory days", and the 2nd represents the ",sellout era",. I didn’t expect much of it either, but.

. repeated listens did the trick. Oh sure. Now see, I have a lil’ theory here. Te the Gabriel days, the relatie wasgoed adventurous and experimental, and never feared to waterput all their adventurousness and experimentation on record – ter fact, they pretty much waterput everything they did on record so that there wasgoed pretty little to scoop out for the Archive, snugger pickings indeed. Te the Collins era, the primary word wasgoed S-E-L-L, the betrekking thought they had already gone spil far spil they could with courageous inaccessible experimentation, and they had to earn a living somehow. Thus, the more adventurous and experimental material that they might have had could have at times bot shelved spil ‘uncommercial’. And some of it could surface here!

It ain’t a general rule, of course, but it’s a fact that there are some mighty fine lost gems on thesis three CDs. Where the 2nd volume undeniably loses to the very first one is ter the live material, simply waterput, ",Classic Genesis", is Gabriel-era Genesis, and ",Next To Classic Genesis", are those live songs from the Collins era that had already bot released ter one version or other on live albums such spil Seconds Out, Three Sides Live, and the Way Wij Walk series. Ter this way, while the decision to only include live renditions of songs previously unavailable ter live versions seems pretty reasonable, this means that you’re undoubtedly gonna get some filler on the 2nd CD (entirely dedicated to live spectacles) and the third one (with three more live tracks).

And indeed – I don’t think my life would have bot much poorer had I never had the chance to hear live renditions of ‘Deep Ter The Motherlode’ (a little bit more vigorous than its studio counterpart), ‘The Lady Lies’, ‘Searing Wire’ (just spil unmemorable spil before), ‘Duke’s Travels’ (why do they think this bunch of monotonous synth jamming is supposed to be inspirational?), ‘No Reply At All’, ‘Man On The Corner’ (welvoeglijk treatment of the Abacab material, but not exactly adding anything to the original versions), ‘It’s Gonna Get Better’ (did they everzwijn perform ‘Silver Rainbow’ live? Now that would be an asset!), and ‘Dreaming While You Sleep’ (well, at least it ain’t ‘Hold On My Heart’).

On the positive side: ‘Illegal Alien’ is amazingly upbeat, with Banks’ organ riff crashing through your speakers like a revelation and Phil’s crowd-pleasing antics neatly trimmed down, ‘Ripples’ is breathtaking and almost unbearably ",humane",, with Phil, for once, sounding like he truly cares for the material (how could he not? it’s a song about aging, and he wasgoed just developing his bald spot!), and tour-guest-guitarist Daryl Stuermer magnificently replicating Hackett’s guitar parts during the lengthy instrumental part, ‘The Brazilian’ has always bot stupid joy and still is, ‘Your Own Special Way’ is pretty, and ‘Entangled’, while almost identic to the Trick Of The Tail version, is the only live vertoning on here to actually feature Hackett himself. Too bad, however, I have no idea why they toevluchthaven’t included more Hackett-era live material. Maybe because all the other songs they performed with him had already bot released on Seconds Out.

But still, the real meat here is to be found on the very first and third CDs. Once you discard the ridiculous choice of including several 12-inch dance mixes of the tape’s thickest speelpop hits (yeah, you’ll be sitting through eleven more minutes of ‘Tonight Tonight Tonight’, albeit I do like the crazy dance remix of ‘I Can’t Dance’, I truly do!), most of the ",outtakes", are good. Not that they’re all ‘progressive’ or ‘experimental’. The very 2nd song, ‘Hearts On Fire’, is zuivere dance muzak – zuigeling of a guilty pleasure for mij, however. A little reminiscent of Madonna’s very first album, if you axe mij (even if it dates back to Wij Can’t Dance sessions), and fairly catchy, too, personally, I can’t stand against the bassline. Even better is the Invisible Touch outtake ‘I’d Rather Be You’ – bouncy, boppy, te an almost ‘wake mij up before you go go’ kleintje of way. Why wasgoed it rejected? To be able to dual the length of ‘Tonight Tonight Tonight’? Sheez.

But then there’s other stuff, too. Let’s quickly browse through it ter chronological order:

a) from the 1976-77 Hackett years you get the lovely little music-hallish ditty ‘Pigeons’, the pretty atmospheric ‘It’s Yourself’ (part of which wasgoed straks remade into ‘Los Endos’), and the magnificent ballad ‘Inwards And Out’ – you just have to wait until the unspoiled atmosphere of the 12-string-laden verses gets transformed into that heavenly chorus, that could have only come out of the Trick Of The Tail era (and don’t leave behind Tony’s excellent Emerson-esque synth solo that actually manages to recapture some of the classical majesty of ‘Firth Of Fifth’). For the relatie to be shelving those beauties and releasing pretentious boring crap like ‘One For The Vine’ instead wasgoed nothing brief of a crime,

b) from the And Then There Were Three sessions you get one unremarkable ballad, ‘Vancouver’, and one tremendous rocker, Banks’ ‘The Day The Light Went Out’, with a shattering hook te the chorus that puts to shame the absolute majority of the songs on that album. Outtake my donk,

c) from the Duke sessions, you get an unremarkable Rutherford composition (‘Open Onderbrak’) and a top-notch moody composition called ‘Evidence Of Autumn’ that certainly matches its title – the guitar, piano, and synth combine ter a very vivid ",autumnal", kleuter of way, and then when the liaison speeds up the tempo and Tony plays that endearing little motive on his keyboard, they’re almost ter Kinks territory for a 2nd! It’s actually better than ‘Your Own Special Way’, and that certainly says something (both ‘Open Wegens’ and ‘Evidence’ were originally released on the British punt of Three Sides Live),

d) from the Abacab sessions, there’s the upbeat, if not particularly hook-filled, pop-rocker ‘You Might Recall’, spil well spil ‘Paperlate’, which might most likely borrow its title from a lyrical line from the Gabriel era but actually sounds like prime solo Phil Collins, replete with slick pop-jazz horns and all, again, both songs originally were included on Three Sides Live. Not essential, but kinda joy. Much better are the instrumentals ‘Naminanu’ (spirited, inventive, with tons o’ melodic ideas and all – hey, the liaison wasgoed at the height of their ",synth-post-prog", period back then) and the slow, brooding, creepy crescendo of ‘Submarine’,

e) from the Genesis sessions the only thing wij get is a lengthy work-in-progress rendition of ‘Moeder’, with Phil and the boys still working on the essentials of the song (and alas, Phil hadn’t yet fully worked out his trademark laugh), not essential, but not bad either,

f) from the Invisible Touch sessions, te addition to ‘I’d Rather Be You’, you get the excellent instrumental ‘Do The Neurotic’, which – I’m not joking – should officially get the title of ",most spirited Genesis track everzwijn waterput to gauze",, narrowly striking out the instrumental passages on ‘Dancing With The Moonlit Knight’. It’s swift, reckless, and again total of excellent synth and guitar riffs – gee, I never thought Genesis could still be rocking out like this te friggin’ 1986. What the HELL made them waterput all that crap on their records when they had powerful driving tracks like thesis? That main theme drives mij crazy! Oh, and ‘Feeding The Fire’ is also an excellent track, a coaxing, sincere-sounding rocker with a good vocal vertoning from Phil. Breathe,

g) heck, even the 2nd Wij Can’t Dance outtake, ‘On The Shoreline’ (which actually opens the compilation), is lightly the equal of the best stuff on that album. It rocks, for one thing. There are gritty contorted guitars ter the intro, there’s a classy sway to the rhythm, and the chorus is spil memorable spil anything.

So, if you see, I can’t qualify a single outtake on here spil ",bad", – at worst, mediocre and unmemorable, but even thesis form a minority. The ultimate recomendation here would be – take some time, don’t make a hasty judgement. Even if there’s only three CDs this time, there’s still way too much material to make any hasty conclusions. All of the songs tapkast none eventually grew on mij, so much that I can undoubtedly say: this 2nd volume is not a plain ",democratic", gesture on the part of Genesis, so that the Collins-era relatie would not feel hurt about not having an ",archive", all to itself, spil many a critic has indirectly hinted. It is certainly more than that – even if Phil, Tony, and Mike did not project it that way. And yes, it’s a must-have for the Genesis fan who hadn’t hopped the ship together with Peter. Believe you mij, who has so often treated Tony Banks like the Satan of prog-rock: it is a must-have.


All Genesis members, including even such early figures spil Anthony Philips, have had lengthy and often prolific solo careers of their own, however, I’m not at all interested te reviewing all of thesis (review Tony Banks solo albums? I’m not a schizophrenic yet!) Recently I have managed to build up a welgevoeglijk Steve Hackett collection, spil his output indeed ignited my curiosity, while some of his records do seem to be minor chunks of shit, most of them prove to be minor classics, and unlike so many guitar colleagues of his, Steve never lost the experimental and innovative edge through the years, this, taken together with the diversity and enjoyability of his catalog, prompted mij to stir him to a separate pagina. And, of course, I have reviewed the entire solo career of Peter Gabriel, the most significant member of the betrekking, on a separate pagina of his own. Thus, the only thing left ter this here section turn out to be. yup, you guessed it – Phil Collins solo reviews! Get the gas masks out!

An under-produced, bleak collection of adult speelgoedpop. blah blah blah, you know everything already. But a duo of gems are on here, too!

Best song: Ter THE AIR TONIGHT

Track listing: 1) Te The Air Tonight , Two) This Voorwaarde Be Love, Three) Behind The Lines, Four) The Roof Is Leaking, Five) Droned, 6) Palm Ter Arm, 7) I Missed Again , 8) You Know What I Mean , 9) Thunder And Lightning, Ten) I’m Not Leaving, 11) If Leaving Mij Is Effortless , 12) Tomorrow Never Knows .

I just picked this one up the other day – don’t despise mij, I actually supposed there might have bot a time at which Phil Collins made albums that were something else than just tuneless, slick, predictable ‘adult contemporary’. After all, the early Eighties were not that bad a period for Genesis – they were fooling around with all thesis tricky drum machines and exploiting the fresh genre of synth-pop to a tee, both the good and bad sides of it. So I thought, hey, maybe Phil wasgoed doing something similar on his solo albums at the time.

Whoops. My mistake. Face Values is his very first solo effort, and for many people around, his best one. Whatever. Maybe. Dunno. Who cares, anyway. Ninety procent of thesis songs are just your average synth-based ditties that update the generic Motownish soul and identically generic bubblegum speelgoedpop for the electronic age. Need translation? This album blows. Far more than Duke. Te fact, listening to this makes mij think I’m earnestly underrating Tony Banks a synthesizer player, even when he entirely mainstreamed his sound.

Actually, I’d have gladly given the record a six or something like that, if not for the tracks that bookmark the album. I suppose that everybody knows ‘Te The Air Tonight’, it’s something like a trademark of Phil by now, and fairly deservedly so, spil there’s hardly a better song on any of his solo releases than this hot, tense, sultry statement of love and hate. Evidently, the song wasgoed aimed at Phil’s ex-wife (a lotsbestemming of the album is dedicated to this thematics, spil he wasgoed having his divorce at the time – unluckily, private troubles didn’t fairly make up for another Rumours this time), and the lyrics, replete with metaphors and veiled scorns like ‘if you told mij you were drowning/I would not lend a forearm’, are so biting that they served spil a onderstel for a excellent story, the famous myth about how Phil dedicated the song to a boy who wouldn’t save his drowning friend and when he sang it te muziekstuk, he sang it ‘specially for the dude’ who zometeen went huis and killed himself. Fine myth, albeit Phil taking overheen the characteristics of St Peter isn’t exactly a pleasant perspective. But whatever the circumstances, ‘Ter The Air Tonight’ still is, and will always be, one of the cornerstones and best examples of Eighties synth-pop – the atmosphere, the vocal melody, the infernal drum machines and the warmth make it an never-to-be-forgotten practice.

Likewise, I’m a superb fan of Phil’s version of the Beatles’ ‘Tomorrow Never Knows’ that finishes the album. And what a wise choice – ‘Tomorrow Never Knows’, ter its original version, indeed sounds spil if it wasgoed destined for the electronic age. Certainly, by 1981 the song wasgoed no longer innovative or groundbreaking, and the rangschikking is inarguably feebler and less ‘overcharged’ than the Beatles’ one, but it’s still a masterful effort, with Phil cautiously preserving the powerhouse drumming and adding a thick layer of synthesizer backgrounds that manage to preserve the psychedelic atmosphere of the song while not being truly annoying. (But what’s that with the brief snippet off ‘Overheen The Rainbow’ that Phil calmly ad libs at the end?)

But from now on, my vishaak goes to sleep and my Belzebul wakes up and clears his mouth. The surplus of the album – all ten tracks of it – range from hardly passable to utmost crap. Drat, Phil even manages to ruin ‘Behind The Lines’, which wasgoed fairly an acceptable half-prog-half-pop number on Genesis’ Duke. Here, he trims away all the toegevoegd layers of the sound and just catapults with the carcass of the song, jazzifying it and speeding it up a little so you could dance yourself to exhaustion. No thanks. And the other succesnummer, the Latin-influenced ‘I Missed Again’, makes mij sick sick sick sick sick. Funny how time has eventually begun to stand still – I can ideally envisage a tune like this go up the charts today, what with Ricky Martin and Jennifer Lopez and all thesis other suckers ruling te the musical world. Blah. And, of course, there are the ‘softer’ ballads. Whatever. Run for voorkant, mister. There’s no middle ground here: when Phil starts singing a soft ballad, approximately half of mankind extracts tears from their eyes, while the other half of mankind extracts vomit from their throats. Guess which half I indeed belong to. ‘You Know What I Mean’ and ‘If Leaving Mij Is Effortless’ suck donkey’s booty, and it’s not often that you can catch mij resorting to that zuigeling of language. Funny, and it’s the same kleintje of fellow who did ‘More Idiot Mij’ for Selling England By The Pound.

The passable tunes on here include the somewhat more attractive pop-rocker ‘Thunder And Lightning’ with its annoying, but catchy refrain, the pretty ‘The Roof Is Leaking’, which is mostly pretty because it’s based on the same melody spil ‘Ter The Air Tonight’, substituting the atmospheric synths with real pianos and even some stengel guitar, and a duo of unremarkable, but not too crappy instrumentals. Oh, and ‘This Vereiste Be Love’, while not a highlight, does borrow a line or two from ‘More Loser Mij’ – notice that he sings the line ‘you know I’m never letting go’ exactly ter the same way he sang ‘because you never said goodbye’ ter the latter.

So, ter case you’re despairingly searching for a record to pass overheen to your numerous children, I wouldn’t recommend this one. No, earnestly I would not. ‘Ter The Air Tonight’ totally rules, but that’s that, don’t ask mij the unlikely. Actually, the most entertaining thing about the album te this case is its back voorkant where Phil presents you with a close-up of his hairy hindhead – yes, back te 1981 he still had fairly a lotsbestemming of hair. Unluckily, the album also starts the infamous sequence of pictures aimed for the contest ‘Name The Ugliest Steekmug’ (all of Phil’s five or more solo albums feature nothing but Phil’s face or half-face or profile). On the other forearm, if you suddenyl find out that your life is hardly imaginable without at least one generic adult speelpop album, please buy this one. It’s like, you know, a father of the genre. Or a Godfather, at least. Ter that respect, it might even be considered a classic – pity that the genre itself is so pathetic te its essence.


For brief summary, see above.


Track listing: 1) I Don’t Care Anymore , Two) I Cannot Believe It’s True , Three) Like China, Four) Do You Know Do You Care?, Five) You Can’t Hurry Love, 6) It Don’t Matter To Mij , 7) Thru Thesis Walls, 8) Don’t Let Him Steal Your Heart Away, 9) The Westelijk Side , Ten) Why Can’t It Wait ‘Til Morning.

Talk about uniformity. Phil’s 2nd album goes after exactly the same pattern spil his very first one, and it’s very likely more of a finish clone ter relation to Face Value spil any selected AC/DC record is ter relation to any other selected AC/DC record. I should have very likely lowered the rating for a accomplish lack of originality, but this time around, the Phil formula doesn’t seem to be weakened yet: the better stuff is just spil interesting spil the better stuff on the previous album, and the dreck, well, the dreck isn’t any more drecky than before. So let’s say this is just a very powerless eight spil opposed to Face Value‘s strong eight (i.e. powerless mediocrity spil opposed to mediocrity epitomised!)

This record’s ‘Ter The Air Tonight’ is called ‘I Don’t Care Anymore’, and it’s also a very distinguished and respectable representative of Eighties’ speelgoedpop, the best factor here is very likely Phil’s maniacal, insane drumming – yeah, I suppose it’s drum machines spil usual, but he programmed them indeed well for this one, and the pulsating hammers switching from one speaker to speaker are the volmaakt counterpoint for his angry vocals spil he resumes to vent his frustration against some or other chick – untrue wifey stories again? Funny how the songs seem to be almost identically divided te inbetween angry rants and sappy confessions, you understand, of course, which group is more tolerable.

Songs like ‘Do You Know Do You Care’, for example, can only be excused by a genuine feel of being totally pissed-off: if you’re ter a forgivable mood, the song can lightly qualify spil a poorboy version of the Genesis classic ‘Moeder’ (which, while wij’re at it, wasgoed written a year zometeen and obviously along the same pattern). Of course, historically it’s more like a poorboy version of the Peter Gabriel classic ‘Intruder’ (which, while wij’re at it, wasgoed written two years earlier and obviously along the same pattern – the drumming, for example, is very similar). Te any case, a pissed-off and angry Phil Collins is at least able to arrange banal lyrics and trivial melodies ter credible, solemn clothes of bombastic synth arrangements.

The only other song on here that I could call a relative ‘highlight’ is ‘The Westelijk Side’, a moody and pleasant instrumental that is fairly ter the Peter Gabriel mood (spil far spil I know, Peter is actually credited for ‘vocals’ on the album, albeit I don’t know what exactly and where he is singing). The song is graced with a majestic sax solo that sounds acceptable to mij, and, fairly unexpectedly, Phil even introduces some ‘tribal’ elements with his primal chanting. Not that the song is truly featuring any ‘world hits’ – that wasgoed fully Peter’s prerogative, and Phil wasn’t about to borrow his formula, but at least it goes to voorstelling that at this point te his career, Phil wasgoed still ready to get it on with a little experimentation, add to this the inventive use of drum machines on much of the tracks, and you’ll see that, while both this album and Face Value have turned out to be totally dismissable ter retrospect, te the early Eighties they were actually setting a pattern, not just blindly following it.

Of course, the pattern set by songs like ‘I Cannot Believe It’s True’ or ‘It Don’t Matter To Mij’ is another matter. Maybe, of course, it’s just a matter of taste, but I simply can’t STAND thesis stupid, gross synthesized horns. I mean, Genesis’ output te the Eighties could suck for all its worth, but the relatie practically never stooped to such a ridiculous use of synthesizers. The songs are, spil you might have guessed, generic Latin-disco (is that a normal compound form?) dance schlock. Likewise, I totally despise, and hope that you do too, the vruchtensap of ‘Don’t Let Him Steal Your Heart Away’ and ‘Why Can’t It Wait ‘Til Morning’. Whereas songs like ‘I Don’t Care Anymore’ can be taken spil aimed at the more ‘thinking’ parts of the audience, with their ‘experimental’ strikes and moods, songs like ‘It Don’t Matter To Mij’ are evidently aimed at the brainless guys te night clubs, and songs like ‘Don’t Let Him Steal Your Heart Away’ are aimed at the brainless chicks on stadiums. Ter other words, come and get it – Hello I Vereiste Be Going is a pretty democratic album, suggesting at least a little bit for every possible social group imaginable. No wonder it wasgoed so commercially successful. Or maybe it wasn’t? No wonder, either: it would leave any category of public at least partially unsatisfied. What use can a brainless chick have of ‘The Westelijk Side’?

Oh, yeah, besides ‘I Don’t Care Anymore’, the klapper here wasgoed ‘You Can’t Hurry Love’. That song sounds like something that Herman’s Hermits could have written and left ter the drawer for Phil to find it and update for the Eighties (when ter reality it’s just a hopelessly butchered Supremes tune, spil Rich Bunnell points out below). Does it make you cringe? And I have listened to the song three times. Man, I suppose I have to go take a course of medical treatment right now.

The funniest thing about the album is its voorkant – I love to take the booklet out and spread it on the table so that Phil shows up to have two faces. I suppose you cut this out and use it spil a shooting target. Oh yeah, and don’t leave behind to gauze the three ge songs on here before searing the surplus. But I still insist that his use of drum machines on here is friggin’ awesome: Phil is the one musician that indeed gives them a good name. At least, used to give them a good name.


They should have entitled that ‘No Ears Required (Not To Mention Brains)’. The record that did it for the Eighties, and did ter the Eighties.

Best song: TAKE Mij Huis

Track listing: 1) Sussudio , Two) Only You Know And I Know, Three) Long Long Way To Go , Four) I Don’t Wanna Know, Five) One More Night , 6) Don’t Lose My Number, 7) Who Said I Would , 8) Doesn’t Anybody Stay Together Anymore , 9) Inwards Out, Ten) Take Mij Huis , 11) Wij Said Hello Goodbye.

Phil’s Big Whopper – how could I have bypassed that one? How could I? How could I fight back the pleasure of bashing this prototypical example of why the Eighties spil a musical decade sucked everything blowable? No, I simply couldn’t.

Wanna know a funny thing, however? This album isn’t bad. At least – it ain’t proverbially bad, I mean bad to the point of throwing a getraind and gasping on your own vomit. Te fact, maybe if only it weren’t so damn LONG (and Phil’s albums indeed grew longer spil they grew worse), I would even have given it an eight, but the number and length of thesis songs that all sound so damn alike just gets on my nerves like, totally, around track number seven or eight. So a seven it is. The thing is, by 1985 Phil wasgoed unarguably the Grand Master of Soft Adult Contemporary Cheesy Synth Speelpop, and like it goes with all the Grand Masters, one can’t but pay at least a little bit of respect. Here, the bit of respect is voiced te my being amazed at how the man truly takes the most pitiful musical genre te the world (rap excluded, of course) and proceeds to do at least something vaguely interesting with it – interesting to the point that very few songs on here sound gross or truly embarrassing. I mean, I can lightly accuse Phil of many things based on the analysis of the album: monotonousness, lack of original musical ideas, unsophisticated lyrics, finish reliance on drum machines instead of his own magnificent drumming, but there’s one thing I can’t accuse him of – and that’s stupidity. And believe mij, this is significant: it is absolutely demonstrable that No Jacket Required is an album written by an slim, musically competent person, a thing that wasgoed not very often met ter the Eighties among generic synth-pop bands. Which, of course, makes the deepthroat all the more painful – who knows which better things this talent and intelligence might have bot spent on?

Of course, this impression is mostly got out of the record spil a entire: spil soon spil I begin getting into any particular song, I feel like tearing it to shreds is the only solution possible. Let’s see, there are eleven songs on here, and how many can get through the filters of quality? Very first of all, let us dispatch the sappy saccharine filler of the ‘Hold On My Heart’ kleuter. That would be the cringe-inducing ‘One More Night’, and it would also be the somewhat less cringe-inducing ‘Long Long Way To Go’ which is at least more ‘melancholic’ than ‘sappy’. Not good, either.

2nd, it’s hardly possible to stand all that synth-jazz-pop crap with ditzy synthesized horns and unsyncopated hits. Every time I hear ‘Sussudio’, I want to. man, I don’t know what I want to, I just imagine Phil bouncing round the stage to that ritme and chanting it, and that makes mij reach for an imagined handgun. Whoever calls the song a ‘Prince stylization’ does the Artist Formerly Known Spil ******* a somewhat unsuitable favour. It’s just your ordinary melodyless dance crap for chicks (pleeeease don’t tell mij I’m a moron for not noticing the subtle twists of the melodic flaps!) The same fate concerns ‘Who Said I Would’, which seems to have a real saxophone solo, but it doesn’t help either. And, of course, the dreadful, simply dreadful ‘Doesn’t Anybody Stay Together Anymore’ – is that title even grammatical? Te any case, crowd-raising anthemic chants is Phil’s 2nd worst genre after atmospheric sappy ballads, let the warning be made.

That leaves us with six songs which – ultimately – range the gamut from scarcely tolerable to okay. Jacket is often deemed to be Phil’s ‘optimistic’ response to the pessimistic drive of the previous two albums: a wrong stir, spil the pessimistic material on those albums wasgoed actually the best stuff Phil everzwijn wrote spil a solo artist. Now what’s to be found here? All the material is pretty upbeat, and Phil spends more time writing, ahem, ‘rockers’, some of them te collaboration with guitarist Daryl Stuermer. The best of thesis is very likely ‘Only You Know And I Know’ that swirls along at a rapid, sustained rhythm and is at least able to get some blood flowing once you’ve persuaded yourself that corny synths can indeed substitute the guitar spil the musical background ter a rapid rocker. ‘I Don’t Wanna Know’ is less driving, but more catchy, make your bet today, win a rabbit tomorrow. But then there’s ‘Don’t Lose My Number’ which is creeping te the company of thesis somewhat superior rockers spil an ugly duckling. Does it ‘rock’? You bet. Mij, I bet Phil stole this from Rod Stewart’s Camouflage outtakes (albeit I’m also pretty sure Rod would have arranged the song ter an even more horrible way way back ter 1984).

So, chic from that duo of tolerable rockers, a tender bit of consolation comes ter the face of ‘Inwards Out’, a mighty chant a little ter the Genesis style (you know, the ‘Silver Rainbow’ kleintje), only set to a mandatory dance ritme, the closing ‘Wij Said Hello Goodbye’ which is not related to the Beatles’ tune – it’s a ordinary piano ditty that does seem to be influenced by Lennon, however (think ‘Imagine’, eh?), and ‘Take Mij Huis’. Oh sheez, don’t bug mij about that one. I very first heard it ter a live version and hated the living heck out of it. Turns out that spil a studio song, it’s done much, much better, spil a real pounding, gospelish, sincere-sounding confessional. Hell, I don’t even have to suppose it’s fake or anything – why should it be? I repeat that not only is Phil not stupid, he is not a studio automaton, either, at least if wij’re not speaking about butchering other people’s careers (I’ll never sorry the man for what he did to Clapton at around that same time). And that’s good.

Hey, actually, what are wij talking about? Feel free to raise that rating two or even three points if you don’t have such a tenacious allergy on generic synth-pop. Phil is a good lad, a friendly chap and a good percussionist. And I agree to not notice the bald spot on the vuurlijn voorkant.

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