Phil Collins once picked the Genesis record no one understood: “A Beatles parody”
You can always spot someone who tries too hard, can’t you? Especially when they’re trying as hard as possible to cover up just how desperate they are for approval. It’s always best to go the Robbie Williams route and be completely upfront from the word ‘go’ about how much you depend on external affirmation to see the next day. However, most try-hards will go to their grave without admitting what they’re doing. Perhaps they’re savvy enough to know that everyone can see it, but going by the evidence, Phil Collins is not one of those people.
No matter how many people may claim to be “all about the music” and that “if anyone else likes us it’s just a bonus”, everyone knows it matters to them. The fact is they wouldn’t risk so much in a full-on career performing music if they weren’t living for the applause and celebrations. That’s just human nature. Then there’s the other kind of try-hard, whose complete aversion to anything not going there way often makes a fool of them.
The erstwhile Genesis drummer, then singer, then solo megastar arrived in the spotlight with a spectacular chip on his shoulder. Perhaps that’s to be expected when you replace your band’s singer, who was hailed as this revolutionary, visionary figure in rock. Then, under your leadership, the band achieves the kind of commercial success you could have only dreamed of a few years ago, but you get labelled a sell-out.
It’s no wonder that Collins was always at his best when he was at his most emotionally bare and intense. The venomous divorce record Face Value made him a pop star when he least expected it. However, every time he’s tried to show a more light-hearted side of his personality, he’s done so with all the natural charm of a low-rent Tommy Cooper impersonator on Blackpool pier in February.
His acting debut in 1988’s caper disaster Buster fell flat cos they cast a distinctly unlovable Collins to play a lovable rogue. The dance break ending of ‘I Can’t Dance’ is cringe for all the wrong reasons. Worst of all, as an interview he conducted with Sounds showed in 1982, the last person he was going to blame for any of this was himself. A case in point was a Genesis EP called Three By Three, released the year the interview was published.
As Collins puts it, “We did a Beatles parody, with a nice glossy cover photograph of us all jumping off a Wall, and if you put the Twist And Shout EP next to it, there’s no difference apart from our faces. The NME reviewed it and the guy wasn’t alive when the Beatles were going, so he reviewed it totally straight, as though we were serious.”
He does get awkwardly close to nailing the problem later in the interview, saying, “I try to deflate any sort of overblown pomposity or pomp that we appear to have.” The key word there, I’m afraid is “Try”. Followed closely by “appear”, which is doing a hell of a lot of heavy lifting there. Stick to serious Phil. Comedy’s hard and, quite clearly, it doesn’t come to everyone naturally.
