Mt 71 years old you can stand on stage as a caricature of days gone by or as a marinated monument to yourself. Phil Collins, frontman of Genesis, has taken a long time to find a third way: the man of sorrows, his age and the inevitable inadequacies that come with it and accepts limitations, even embraces them, forges them into a powerful weapon.
On Monday, ten thousand spectators in Berlin were amazed witnesses of a resurrection that was considered almost impossible. The singer and the other band members – all in their 70s – are in better shape than they have been in the last 30 years. The concert was a revelation.
Last October I had already traveled to Glasgow to see the band, Corona calamities made my extensive tour plans melt down to the Scottish concert. It was a disaster. “With tears in my eyes, I saw Phil Collins, an old man in a tracksuit” was the title of my text for WELT, which many people found unfair.
But it was what it was: certainly also under the impression that several band members expected (and received) positive corona tests, the show became an erratic disaster, most clearly recognizable by an almost disoriented Collins. He missed performances, could never tie a thread to the audience, seemed fragile like parchment and was visibly happy when the concert was over.
Genesis completed the North American tour in winter 2021 with routine, and now the last part of their long journey has begun: after the European concerts, the book of Genesis will finally be closed on March 26 in London, and the band will be dissolved. But it seems like one of the mightiest rock formations in history can once again rise to its full potential. Berlin was a spectacular start.
Contrary to what is often thought, the DNA of Genesis consists not only of melody (which has been all too pleasing in recent decades), but to a large extent of unrestrained aggressiveness, of the primal power of rock music, of sheer exaggeration and cynical dystopian stories, in where mighty kings and naïve lovers, Victorian England and spoiled upper-class kids are smashed with croquet mallets.
Proto-hard rock with a cynical wit
Only against the background of this destructive power was the sweetness of many compositions tolerable as a counterpoint. Unlike Pink Floyd, Genesis are not a psychedelic blues band and soundtrack for the secret joint in the staff room after school. They are proto-hard rock with a cynical wit.
In Berlin, they finally brought their essence back onto the streets – in the entire repertoire. Rarely has one heard the slightly worn-out “Turn it on again” so powerfully, never (in my experience) have the excerpts from “The Cinema Show” or “Firth of Fifth” been so steely, brutal and yet playful, the abuse operas “Mama” and “No Son of Mine” so overwhelming.
Nic Collins, the bandleader’s son, who is no longer able to hold, let alone use, a drumstick, drove the collective of gifted individuals relentlessly forward. Well, the kid’s only 20. But he melds his father’s distinctive style with a heaviness that rivals dark progressive rock demons like “Tool.”
The “setlist” remained completely unchanged and yet it was a completely different experience. Even (judging by the band’s original claim) musical outrages like “I can’t dance” or the fairground hit “Invisible Touch” were deconstructed in such a way that they were almost bearable. Until last night, I never thought I would ever be able to write a sentence like this.
In general, compositional simple things like “I know what I like” were celebrated with such enthusiasm that the totally astonished audience was ripped off their chairs again and again. The earthquake-roaring “Afterglow” brought tears to my eyes – happiness and overwhelm.
Only one remained seated because he couldn’t help himself, old and stumbling on his way to the front of the stage: Phil Collins. But he developed, parked his narrow buttocks on the outermost edge of the chair, almost lying down – a grandeur and presence that clearly puts old rascals like Mick Jagger in their place. Collins had already proved on the last solo tours that this works.
Not for the faint hearted
Finally, in a simple training suit, like those worn by the older mafiosi in the “Sopranos”, Genesis also succeeded. The former antics of “I Can’t Dance” have become the bitter cynicism of a man who can’t even stand. The menace with which he sang “Mama” or “Home by the Sea” can be experienced in such a way that this concert series is not for the faint-hearted. Collins embodies the heroes of the Genesis songs, who are never heroes but failures, so authentically because he can hardly do it himself.
Phil Collins in a simple tracksuit
Source: dpa / Britta Pedersen
Many viewers, more familiar with Genesis from the format radio, often seemed disturbed. Perhaps, in order to capture these people, one should forgive Collins for his extremely Las Vegas entertainer-like announcement games and audience animations. By the way, these are the same gags as they have been for 40 years now. yawn.
But at some point you have to get a beer – and the (commercial) success of Genesis has always been in the symbiosis of old and new. Now – finally – the balance has been restored for the first time since, say, 1982.
I am infinitely grateful for the Glasgow flop, because only this low point made the Phoenix flight from Berlin possible. Five stops to go. My god, will I miss this band!