The artist Phil Collins calls his idol: “One of my biggest heroes”
When thinking of musical idols, the mind naturally tends to wander to musicians. The same names come up time and time again: Bob Dylan, Jimi Hendrix, Joni Mitchell, and The Beatles. There is a certain cast of heroes that seem inescapable, as if every artist unavoidably follows in their lineage in some way, having been inspired to some degree. However, for Phil Collins, his idol is a little more left field, yet just as crucial.
While opinions are always mixed on Collins, with some definitely deeming his work cringy or limiting his impact to merely the man who soundtracked Tarzan, his legend status is definitely verified. Any musician will tell you how insanely hard drumming and singing is. It’s a rare feat, and definitely one that sound technicians at shows wish would happen less, as attempting to mic up a singing drummer is arguably even harder.
But Collins did that, and not only did he do it, he revolutionized it. His work, both in Genesis and as a solo artist, birthed hit after hit, whether he was behind the kit, behind the mic, or both.
In the grand scheme of experimental music, Collins’ contributions often fall flat in history, forgotten in favour of more adventurous acts. But it is a triumph to be both progressive and deeply commercial – perhaps his idol taught him that.
“He’s one of my biggest heroes,” Collins said about George Martin. Not Lennon. Not McCartney. No, he picked out the band’s producer, the fifth Beatle, who was truly instrumental in crafting their sound and pushing it forward and forward as the band evolved far behind the point they started.
In his solo project, Collins did it all, including producing his records. So it’s understandable that one of his ultimate musical idols would be a producer. He told Sounds magazine, “I like doing everything myself, because basically I don’t trust anyone else to do it well enough.” But, he admitted that there would be one exception to that rule and only one person he would have entrusted his music to, as he said, “though if I’d thought of George Martin at the time, I might have asked him.”
Here, Collins raises an interesting point. In all the hundreds of thousands of times The Beatles or its members have been hailed as heroes, Martin deserves to be honoured too. A good or a bad producer can make or break a record, so surely they should be celebrated as musical idols just as much as the artists they’re elevating. In the world of the Beatles, Martin certainly should, as it is a fact that without him, without the chance he took on the band and the years of work he dedicated to them, they probably wouldn’t be known today, let alone revered.
It’s no secret that Collins loves the Beatles. As a kid, he almost appeared in Hard Days Night, and he later played in a session for George Harrison’s solo debut; his career, at every turn, has been inspired or influenced by the Fab Four. Significantly, this shout-out for the producer who made them shows a deep appreciation not just for the band and their sound but for the broad world of music and everyone involved in making it.
