Genesis in the 1980s

I made a Genesis playlist here if you want some soundtrack for the below.

I actually began a Genesis project over here at little ol' Dog Star Omnibus - the biggest little Omnibus in the Union, to paraphrase Rhode Island's old state slogan - last year or the year before. I sank a good amount of time into it but got sidetracked by something or other and never finished. But Political Beats recently wrapped up a fantastic seven hour overview of Genesis, and (as their overviews of bands I like usually do) it got me going through their discography again.

Here's a brief bio of me and Genesis:

- I don't know the first time I heard Phil Collins - in the 80s his hits were just part of the ether, even in West Deutschland, where I was for the first half of the decade, and where things popular in the States often took five or six months to make their way to us - but it was around 1985, I think, when I became aware of Miami Vice. That led to "In the Air Tonight" which led to No Jacket Required.

- My family moved back to the States in August '86, a couple of months after Invisible Touch came out Genesis released , one of the most popular (radio, sales, and video-wise) records of the decade. The title track was played everywhere, and constantly, as were all the other singles. "Tonight, Tonight, Tonight," a harrowing song about a junkie in the throes of withdrawal, was even used for a Michelob commercial.

- Sometime over the next few years I started getting into prog rock, and everyone kept telling me to check out the band's 70s stuff. This led me to make several pilgrimages to Luke's Record Exchange in Pawtucket, Rhode Island, commemorated elsewhere in these pages. One time I walked out of there with Foxtrot, Nursery Crime, and The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway. (For less than $10, probably). And I liked them so much that when I finally got a CD player one of the first CDs I ever purchased was Trick of the Tail. An album I love so much that I almost made this post a 1976 to 1986 deal, just so I could cover it.

None of these just-mentioned albums are on the docket for today, though. Genesis broke big at the end of the 70s thanks to the success of "Follow You, Follow Me". (Not a particular fave of mine.) What would the 80s hold? First up:

(1980)

I often use the word “brackish” to describe the trends, musical or otherwise, of the first or last years of any decade. The styles and trends of the previous decade mingle briefly with the new and form some unique mixture of sound before one era gives way to the next. On And Then There Were Three (1979) you can clearly hear the 80s-to-come style of the band on “Follow You, Follow Me,” but it sticks out like the proverbial sorest of thumbs among the other tracks, which sound so solidly 70s-Genesis-sounding. Duke, the band’s tenth (!!) album, bridges the two eras more gracefully, managing to sound like new wave prog rock or something close to it. 

The singles: “Duchess” The keys rock on this one. Is Tony Banks the most underrated rock keyboardist of all time? Among rock keyboardists certainly not. But among the general public is there even a rated rock keyboardist? I don’t know what the conventional wisdom is on the subject. Without a doubt and with no caveats, though, Tony Banks rocks. There’s a quote that follows him around about how most of his songs have seven chords too many. Perhaps so, but he’s also the earworm guy in the band. Well, they each have an uncanny gift for earworm, I think, perhaps Phil, Mike, and Tony share this distinction equally.

“Misunderstanding” is the album’s big hit. It’s not a fave. Both the main riff and the general mood and lyrics seem repetitive of Led Zeppelin’s “Fool in the Rain.” I can't be the only one who thinks this? But I love “Turn It On Again.”  I love when you hear a song a million times and eventually discover it’s about something completely different than what you thought. Genesis has a unique skill set for hiding complex, askew ideas in 80s-radio-friendly packages. Even better, though, is the secondary discovery that “Oh wow, that song really does sound like (that idea.)” Take “Turn It On Again,” a song which achieves even more tragic relevance in the social media age, about a man whose only relationships are with the flickering images on his TV screen, whose life is experienced only vicariously through them. The middle section with the odd time signature precisely approximates that disorientation of cable-flipping, searching for that “hit” of sublimated existence. 

Was “Man of Our Times” a single? (Answer: no.) I need to do a comprehensive overview of Mike’s solo stuff, I love everything he ever brought to the band. While we’re here, Phil’s “Please Don’t Ask” is his most personal song, written about the break-up of his first marriage, and it’s certainly memorable at that, but it’s Genesis (and Phil) at their Beach-Boys-iest. You can’t say that about too many of their tunes.

My favorite track is undoubtedly “Duke’s Travels.” That sucker is epic. The album is really called “The Story of Albert” (A quick summary is that Albert has a break up, and falls in love with a singing star on television while sitting at home alone.) It’s all there, emotionally and overture-wise, in that one instrumental. And “Duke’s End” is a great wrap-up/ roll-credits. 

Next:

(1981)

I mentioned up there that at least part of the “80s sound” is co-authored by Genesis. I’d love to truly map out what I consider the 80s sound (how many parts the Fairlight CMI? How many parts Eddie Van Halen? How many the Human League?) but what I meant by that is the gated reverb effect on Collins’ drums. Mic-ing the drums that way forced Tony to alter the way he played keyboards. It all leads inevitably to "Tonight, Tonight, Tonight" and everything else on Invisible Touch. That is the eventual waterfall we hang-glide over, Moonraker-style, and you can see it ever so small in the distance when you listen to this album.

The title track was a bold choice for a single (although the radio version lops off the best part, which is all the weird stuff at the end) but an even odder choice for album opener, if you ask me. Great tune, though; there really aren’t any bad ones on this record. The two that I like least are the album’s best-known tracks (“No Reply at All” and “Man on the Corner.”) And I like those just fine, just not as much as the title track of “Me and Sarah Jane” or my two favorites: “Dodo/Lurker” (the keys are fierce as hell in that one) and “Keep It Dark.”

Here's Simon Collins covering it.

The albums’ most infamous track is probably “Who Dunnit”. I like it and its audacity, but it drives me a little crazy. I only learned from the Political Beats episodes that it’s basically a fart joke. Good for Genesis wrapping a fart joke in what could otherwise be a shop demonstration of the Prophet-5 synthesizer.

Those Political Beats guys pointed out something else interesting, as well. Abacab is as true a blend of new wave, prog rock, post-punk as any of the other albums often nominated for such (Songs for the Big Chair from Tears for Fears, Synchronicity by the Police, or even Moving Pictures by Rush). I might nominate Genesis (1983) myself, but both it and Abacab, certainly.

The band released its third live album next with:

(1982)

Very good live album. Their best? Probably. The later ones are hampered by We Can’t Dance-era stuff (spoiler alert: not a fan of We Can’t Dance; happily for me it came out in ’91 so I didn’t have to dive back into it for this here blog) and the earlier ones by poorer production. Maybe the Last Domino tour planned for 2021 will result in their definitive live album. It’d be a nice swan song for the band. 

All the songs here from the band’s most recent material is fine, but the real treats are the 70s-revisit stuff (“In the Cage” and “It/ Watcher of the Skies” especially) and the b-sides. Which are left off the CD but comprised the unmentioned fourth side of the title.

“Paperlate,” though, I hadn’t heard that in thirty-odd years. It was a short-lived joy to rediscover. That style of call-and-response with the horns doesn’t really land with me. Sing “Chick-fil-A, chick-fil-A” to the melody, though, and wham, instant jingle. 

Next:

(1983)

Let's do a song-by-song take on this one.

“Mama” A few years back I watched all seven seasons of Magnum, PI without even really meaning to. I was going to do a Top Ten post for it but never did (more here). One of the episodes that would’ve been on that list, though, was "Death and Taxes" which is basically a forty-odd minute music video for this song/ Miami Vice "homage". The lyrics apparently reference The Moon’s a Baboon, made into a film with David Niven. (Never saw it.)

Here’s an excerpt from an old Keyboard Magazine about the production of this song.

“The Linn LM-1 rhythm was programmed by Mike Rutherford, rather than drummer Collins. It was fed through a reverb unit and then into a Fender amplifier with a large amount of distortion. Tony Banks used a Synclavier, ARP Quadra, E-mu Emulator, and Sequential Circuits Prophet-10 in the recording. The Quadra's rhythmic pulses were triggered by the 16th note hi-hat pattern coming from the Linn drum machine. A low E drone was recorded on the Prophet-10 through most of the song. A koto, which happened to be in the studio one day, was sampled into the Emulator and used in the song because it was felt that no other sound worked in the section.”

I understand every third or fourth word of that. Sounds awesome, though.

“That’s All” What can you say? Craftmanship supreme. 

“Home By the Sea” Here’s another of those double-whammies I mention. I must’ve heard this a hundred times before I ever looked it up what it was about, and I only ever did so because I joked to a friend once that if I ever got a home by the sea it wouldn’t be the one from that Genesis song. I was only responding to the tortured mood of the song, not its lyrical content, which do happen to be about a haunted house. And that’s where the secondary realization kicks in, i.e. “wow, that song’s about a burglar who breaks into a haunted house and then the ghosts just sit him down (“Sit ow-owwwn-n-n!”) and tell him stories of who they used to be and how they came to be haunting there. And you know what? That’s exactly what it sounds like, now that I know that.” Remarkable.

“Second Home By the Sea” Because the first wasn’t enough! Absolutely not. An artsy sequel, like the sophisticated city cousin to the haunted country mouse of the previous. I’ll work on it.

“Illegal Alien” Okay, well, they can’t all be first round picks. This is a good-hearted silly song that is anachronistic and a little weird-sounding now. I’d say “offensive” but it’s practically banal these days to point out perfectly inoffensive things that are treated like Lord Haw Haw. It goes on way too long, mostly.

I never liked “Taking It All Too Hard” on previous listens but Old Man Bryan likes it just fine and kindly reminds you of the boundaries and border-hedge of his personal exteriors. 

“Just A Job To Do” Is this Genesis’ most overlooked big hit? As in people forget both that it exists or that Genesis did it? In all fairness, it’s easy for the casual listener to get Phil’s 80s work mixed up with Genesis’. Mike and the Mechanics don’t have that problem. (Nor Tony, I guess, if anyone even recognized them. Poor guy released four or five non-Genesis projects in the 80s that sold a total of four copies. I’m told, unreliably. I’ve heard none of them. That’ll change one of these days. I love Tony, don't send me hate mail.) Anyway this is a fun tune. I wouldn’t say Phil is underrated as a vocalist, but one particular aspect of his fronting Genesis – that of “selling” all of these different POVs, here an assassin with (see title) – may be. That’s a whole different skill set than just hitting the notes. 

(“I’m coming hard on you!” might have been re-thought as the bridge, but it was a simpler time. )

“Silver Rainbow” Some great (and weird keys) on this one. Apparently the silver rainbow is the zipper to a girl’s jeans. A trivial little tune, perhaps, but a great example of just how effortlessly these guys can construct a song. Is there a note wasted here? I think not. Despite the subject matter, it reminds me of a Wiggles tune. 

“It’s Gonna Get Better” Criticized on release as “cosmic Elgar” (as in Sir Edward William Elgar, the dude whose “Elegy” graces many a montage in film and television) it actually lifts a cello part from a different composer, Aram Khachaturian. A lovely song that has only grown on me over the years and dozens of listens. The ending goes for broke and succeeds. It points squarely to where the band will land next.

Before we get there, the b-sides for the singles on this one include “Nanimani” and “Submarine.” Both are great. The latter could be the theme of an entire film, actually. Not necessarily a navy (or delicatessen) film, just a nice slice of atmosphere. 

And finally:

(1986)

Here’s an album that was inescapable for a few pivotal years of my youth. (They’re all pivotal!) At the mall, on the radio, on MTV, in my bedroom, you name it. 

That song by song approach worked pretty well for Genesis; let’s do the same here.

“Invisible Touch” This and “Turbo Lover” by Judas Priest were my favorite songs ever in seventh grade. My friend Kevin’s joke at the time was “She seems to have an invisible tool shed!” Man that cracked me up. I sang it practically every time I heard it for a number of years. Now I wonder what the hell was so funny about it, but hey. 

“Tonight Tonight Tonight” One last time hitting this note, I promise: when I first learned it was about a junkie looking for a fix and not the band just looking for Michelob in a typical 80s nightscape, I had to marvel at how obvious it was, once you realize that. What a great vocal from Phil. Hard to believe this guy became a singer more or less accidentally.

“Land of Confusion” Great track. I remember when everyone went nuts for the metal remake. Not bad, I guess, but for me the remake just underscores how perfect the original is. Ditto for the metal remakes of “Blue Monday” and “Smooth Criminal” come to think of it. Remember when there was a metal remake of everything? And then a techno remake, and then a punk/hardcore remake? Simpler times, my friends, simpler times.

“In Too Deep” A placeholder for a certain type of 80s something-something, but not a song I enjoy.

“Anything She Does” Side Two opens up with this number, which always gives off a strangulation vibe to me. It’s not a great track, perhaps, but it makes 100% of my Genesis mixes, so there’s that. Seems essential for an inessential Genesis track.

“Domino” Essential any way you cut it. More awesome vocals from Phil. That “Nothing you can do when you’re the next in line” section through the end is as good as it gets. 

“Throwing It All Away” Speaking of as good as it gets. This riff is dynamite. The whole song is dynamite. I used to really love the video back in the day then didn’t think of the song for like twenty years, then one day heard it on some 80s hour lunch break and now I’d say I listen to it at least once a week. (Same thing happened with Billy Idol’s “Eyes Without a Face” while we’re here.)  

“The Brazilian” I had no real context for Genesis as a prog rock band when I first got this album. That came later. But from the first this song had a pull on my imagination. What was going on here? How did they get the synthesizer to make that wind whoosh out of the speakers sound? What is this, keys or drums? (It’s both.) Just fantastic. On a short list of cool rock keyboard songs. (Impromptu, incomplete version of such a list: “The Brazilian,” “Keep It Dark,” the live “Aquatarkus” by ELP from In Concert, “Joy” by Apollo 18, “Catherine of Aragon” and “Merlin the Magician” by Rick Wakeman, and “Love Theme from Boat Chips (total remix).” 

B-sides: "Do the Neurotic," now we're talking. What a cool solo. In the same way "Submarine" could be chopped up and redistributed to be the soundtrack of an entire film, this one could about cover a single episode of 80s TV. (I guess Tom Selleck had the same idea for "Mama" and that "Death and Taxes" episode of Magnum, eh?) I love the ending.

"Feeding the Fire" - great vocal, not the greatest song. Still, cool enough. And "I'd Rather Be You." I like this one. Did the Cure rip this off with "Why Can't I Be You?" Not really, I guess, but there's a similarity. To David Lee Roth's "Perfect Timing," as well. 

~

Genesis took the rest of the 80s off as a band while Phil and Tony put out more solo records, and Mike and the Mechanics hit it big (again) with The Living Years. That, then, brings us to the end of our overview. Thanks for joining me!

 

 

Political Beats: Two Beatles Podcasts

I'd like to do something I've yet to do in these pages: recommend a podcast. That podcast is:

It's brought to you by National Review and curated by Scott Bertram and Jeff Blehar, two folks I have zero familiarity with outside of this podcast. In this day and age I suppose I should google them to ensure they're not human traffickers (or worse) before recommending their work, but I'll go out on a limb and assume NR already did that.  

The conceit of the show is Jeff and Scott interview someone from the world of politics on their favorite music. Everyone listens to all the albums, takes notes, then they have a discussion. Jeff and Scott are obvious music fanatics, and their guests choose a band they not only love but know something about, so a lively and informative discussion is guaranteed. Politics are neither discussed nor allowed. In the few cases they are brought up by proxy with the music, it's always done in a funny way.

For example: I'm almost done with of the U2 podcast they did with Stephen Miller (a different dude than the White House Stephen Miller) and was cracking up at the Joshua Tree discussion. The Edge described the album as their "anti-Reagan" album. Fair enough. They engage with this without once criticizing or analyzing such a position, they only engage with the music. Jeff at one point jokes about how he's personally a big fan of the CIA's interventions in South and Central America in the 70s, but that doesn't stop him from admiring "Bullet the Blue Sky" or "Mothers of the Disappeared." (Actually, he may not like that last one, I forget.) 

Anyway, I'd say it's a good litmus test: if you can't listen to Political Beats without furiously policing it for the slightest hint of partisan warfare, that's too bad. It's an impulse I understand, though; I feel the same way when anyone recommends anything to me these days and it's always such a relief to be able to let one's guard down. If you want to save the time. trust me; it's safe to let your guard down with this one. 

They also don't just stick to conservative journalists. The Led Zeppelin episode, for example, is with Julie Roginsky, and the Radiohead episode is with Molly Ball. Both are marvelous. In their day jobs, Roginsky and Ball enthusiastically contribute to an opposite POV and I find them very alienating; here on Political Beats, it's possible to see them as human beings with whom one actually has wide swaths of common ground. 

If anything can possibly serve to bring two warring factions together, it's a shared love of bands and music. Political Beats isn't trying to make you/us kill or hate anyone, and they should be commended for it. Especially these days. 

Which brings us to the subject of today's post: these two wonderful Beatles episodes with Charles W. Cooke. Episode the first here, and here's the second. Over six hours of hardcore Beatles overview.

Now, if you're anything like me, you probably hear that and think "Six hours? Who has that kind of time? Moreover, what more could I possibly learn about the Beatles?"

I can't answer that for you, but I myself learned a few new things. And I thought that was kind of impossible on this topic. See, from about 1992 to, sheesh, all the way through 1999 or 2000, I lived in a bit of a Beatles bubble. 

Other bands infiltrated my consciousness and CD collection during this period, for sure, but my guiding light was the Beatles. By the way, the actual point of this blog - i.e. if you love the Beatles, definitely dive into these 2 podcasts; if you love well-informed friendly conversation about music, definitely take a look at Political Beats - is pretty much over. The rest of the interview will be Centaur questions. So to speak.

In 1992 my friend Kevin got me into the Beatles. Previous to this I had eyes only for metal and/or classic rock. (And movie soundtracks - always loved those. And Beethoven.) Broad strokes-wise, here's how it went from that point on:

1992-1993: I was mainly a fan (an obsessive one to be sure) only of the later stuff, i.e. Revolver and beyond. My main text during this period was this one:

From here I memorized the general story arc of the band. I've read it, I don't know, 5 or 6 times over the years. Peter Brown was a rather disgruntled ex-member of the Beatles inner circle (and he wasn't really personally befriended by any band member, despite being immortalized in "The Ballad of John and Yoko") so I've come to see this more as a hack job over the years, but the gosspiy parts as well as the financial info fascinated me at the time. 

And of course there was the music itself. Favorite songs in this period? "Hey Bulldog" and "I Am the Walrus." (Also? Inexplicably, "PS I Love You". ) My buddy Kevin is one of the world's great unsung guitarists and musical geniuses (as all Boat Chips fan know!) and the instruction he gave me during this period of the whys and hows of the music sticks with me to this day. In short: there are actual, scientific reasons why the Beatles were as good as they were, and knowing them makes you a better, more informed human being. 

1993 - 1997: Here's where I went into Beatles overload, pretty much. The psychedelic era wasn't enough for me anymore, and I dove into the back catalog. And the post-Beatles catalog. And any/ all books and interviews and Yoko solo albums and Splinter and Wonderwall and The Firemen and any and everything. And consumed every book on the band I could think of. 

Notable books poured down the mental gulliver in this period were:

Nicholas Schaffner's is the best of the bunch, for my money. 

Written by John's childhood buddy Pete Shotton (and Nick Schaffner). Notable for Pete's assertions re: lyrical contributions to "Eleanor Rigby" and "I Am the Walrus" ("Let the fuckers work that one out, Pete!") as well as the emotional rawness of the last page. ("What a fucking ending.")

I read this one a few times - it's really not great (and some of the info is disputed elsewhere) but I liked all the post-Beatles stuff, which I had no idea about at the time.

Any Beatles fan needs the two interviews John'n'Yoko and Paul'n'Linda (respectively) gave to Playboy. Those who balk at collecting the actual magazines can get at least the John and Yoko one in book form:

And actually I think both interviews are available on the web now, for free. (Here's a link to the 2nd part of the Paul and Linda one.)

Your Beatles library is of course incomplete without these 2 works by John, but to be honest, they're pretty skippable. This one, though, has some biographical essays and poetry and weirdness definitely worth owning:

"A is for Parrot which we can plainly see / B is for glasses which we can plainly see / C is for plastic which we can plainly see / D is for Doris."

And finally, this wonderful memoir of the Summer of Love by the Beatles publicist Derek Taylor.

Also coming out in this period:

And wow - talk about a gift to the burgeoning Beatlemaniac. I'd been obsessed with finishing "Leave My Kitten Alone" since reading about it in Bobbie Ann Mason's In Country. (No internet in those days, folks) So that was my favorite part of it all. But there was also the really bizarre "What's the New Mary Jane?" which I'd also been reading about, plus a studio version of John's "Real Love" (which could previously only be heard on the Imagine - the documentary that came out in the 80s - soundtrack) and "Free As a Bird," which to my knowledge hadn't been heard by anyone.

Your opinion on these songs probably depends on your tolerance for weird-ass acidified audio collages ("What's the New Mary Jane") or Electric Light Orchestra ("Free As a Bird" and "Real Love"). But "Leave My Kitten Alone" is great, vintage Beatles. 

Speaking of these Anthologies, I wish they'd covered these in the Political Beats episodes. They should do a third where they cover nothing but. (They do have another episode where they discuss Wings with Mark Davis. Which is pretty good. Like Wings, though, not as unilaterally engaging as the Beatles.) 

21st Century: Well, all things must pass. I'll always love the Beatles, but my red giant became more of a white dwarf over the past 20 years. Which only makes sense: you can't sustain the type of obsessive interest I had in the band over more than 8 or 9 years. Also: I broke up with the girl I was with in the 90s, and that coincided with just consciously establishing new directions. I remember her telling me once she could never listen to the Beatles again. That made me happy. I'm sure it didn't last, but I was happy to be so associated with them in her mind that such an indelible chunk of 20th century pop music history had a big McAsterisk next to it. Okay this wasn't the most gracious or enlightened attitude. I got over it. I'm sure she did, too. 

Anyway, I stopped buying every new Paul or Ringo CD, George died, and I moved on to some other things. Prior to these Political Beat episodes, though, I did have one transcendent Beatles experience, when I ordered these two things:

Wow, holy moley - must-haves for every Beatles fan. Like these two PB episodes, I learned things I never knew before, and I heard from folks (like Bobby Vinton) that I never heard comment on the Beatles before. Awesome stuff. There are music magazines, and then there's MOJO, so obviously and comprehensively superior to all others that it deserves its own category. 

~

By all means, leave your favorite Beatles texts in the comments. or anecdotes, timelines, whatever you wish. The floor is officially open to all Beatles biographying.