Yeah! Phil Baby
I’m so jealous.
Davy H over at The Ghost of Electricity has beaten me to it and gone and posted about uncle Phil, our much-maligned drummer. Well, as promised, I’m going to go ahead and post anyway because Phil deserves as much praise as possible. This is the start of nothing short of a revolution. A complete re-appraisal of a song writing genius that will put him at the forefront of British musical development.
I first encountered Genesis in a bargain bin at Timothy Whites in St.Albans. There I secured a copy of ‘And Then There Were Three’. This was Phil trying to steady a rudderless Genesis for the first time. Yes it was boring and dull, but you could see the beginnings of the ‘Phil Sound’. And who could forget ‘Duke’, ‘Abacab’ and ‘Invisible Touch’? Well I could for one I suppose but sales prove that this was Phil the ambassador, promoting English prog rock to the world.
And then there was Live Aid with Phil jetting across the Atlantic to do his bit for the starving of Africa. Not a self-promotional bone in his body you see. Phil the magnificent.
Phil is, of course, primarily a solo artiste. ‘Face Value’ was famously produced after his split from his wife and it shows in the tortured lyrics throughout the album. This is Phil in his pomp. The album is full of song writing gems. Well there is a couple at least………… well there is one. ‘Hello, I Must Be Going’ continued where the previous one had left off – no hint of laurel resting from our Phil. And ‘No Jacket Required’ is frankly ……………….. hmmmmmmm ……………………….. I can see where this is going now. Perhaps you are all right.
But NO I will not be put off. Phil is brilliant. Now where did I leave my copy of Sussudio …………………………………?
Phil Collins - In The Air Tonight (mp3)
For You Davy:
Genesis - Abacab (mp3)
For you Crash:
Phil Collins - Tomorrow Never Knows (mp3)
Buy everything Phil here
Just popped over to Fileden to notice that my bandwidth has been exceeded. I've been getting more downloads in the last month than I've ever had. Pah - just goes to show that few people ever read my jottings. As if I was ever convinced otherwise.
Thirty years seems to fly by extremely quickly. There I was one moment queueing for ages outside the Odeon waiting to catch up with the latest craze. And the very next I'm a middle aged (but twinkle-eyed) sloth reading about who their favourite Star Wars character is based on six films (as outlined in this months 'Empire'). Yes, my Dad was right and life does seem to pass by in an instant (rather like the hyperspace button on the 'Millenium Falcon'). In 1977, the world was still excited by the prospect of space travel. The Apollo missions of 1968-1972 were still a fresh (if rather costly) memory and it seemed only a matter of time before mankind would embark on another feat of exploration. After all the shuttle programme was well into its design phase and hopefully this would realise the ambition of cheaper space travel. 
Just what was I thinking? And to make things even worse I actually possessed three other albums at one point. I first listened to this lot when my brother got the 'Pyramid' album back in the late seventies. They were prog rock and Parsons had infamously engineered Pink Floyd's 'Dark Side of the Moon' in 1973. Remember readers that this was the height of New Wave and Mr Vicar was deeply immersed in The Cure, Magazine, and The Jam. Somehow I was under the false illusion that I needed to widen my musical horizons by listening to Alan Parsons. I think in retrospect I must have been possessed as there seems to be no other plausible explanation for my foolhardiness. In fact, there may well be some credence to this statement. Parsons used to get all sorts of 'artistes' to work as guests on his albums. They included the likes of Colin "brokenhearted" Blunstone, Arthur Lee, Steve Harley and John Miles. Perhaps they were all under his spell. Needless to say that the aforesaid albums have all been consigned to the album scrapheap and are probably propping up some corner of a charity shop as I write. There I feel better already, but only by degrees as there is worse to come. Oh yes far worse!
And so creation was over. Well it was for the record label which drew to close with 'Guerilla' by the Super Furry Animals. A shame for all concerned really as the label had nurtured and promoted the fortunes of many a good band/artist since the early eighties. I suppose the end of label that many considered to be the greatest of 'the independents' was inevitable. By getting into bed with Sony Alan McGee had set the ball of destruction rolling to its ultimate conclusion.
Ahh, Stiff Records. I remember them with affection. Suddenly at the end of the seventies, to be really cool you had to be signed to a minor label. And, of course, these were the days when minor labels were really a minor label, not a phantasm, an illusion if you will of the kind of small scale label that exists in today's music industry. The media conglomerates still play this game of trying to convince you that the latest bright young things are 'superior' because they belong to the 'sweaty bollocks' label or something similar. And behind the label, skulking like some lardy monster is 'the major' with its corporate bosses chewing on a cigar, and drinking a brandy after their latest business deal. Sickening.
