“I don’t want to go cosmic and say I was just channelling something. But the more music I did, there was no stopping it”: Phil Collins on his omnipresent solo era, and what he really thinks of Genesis
After recovering from the health issues that nearly killed him, he won’t rule out new music
Following on from Phil Collins’ memories of his early days and how Genesis became a streamlined musical organisation, he tells Prog about the era in which it seemed he couldn’t be escaped.
Were you surprised at the enormous global success of Face Value and the ensuing solo stardom?
Certainly. Don’t get me wrong, I took a lot of care over it. I don’t want to go cosmic on you and say, “I was just channelling something” – but it just came so easily. Because of my mental state probably. The house was empty [after his divorce]. That time wasn’t a barrel of laughs, but the more music I did, there was no stopping it.
If Leaving Me Is Easy is one of my favourites. I asked Eric Clapton to play on it. I’ve known him since before he knew I was a musician. I was just a friend of his wife Patti and would go over to theirs for drinks with them and his schoolmates. We used to drink ourselves to the point of stupidity back then!
Anyway, he came over and I pressed record. It ran through and he only played one note. One. I said, “What’s wrong?” He said, “I didn’t want to spoil it.”
Would you agree that Face Value shares musical DNA with John Martyn’s Grace And Danger album, which you played on, and Glorious Fool, which you produced?
Ah, I wish some of John’s albums had sold millions around the world too. Grace And Danger was lovely – we bonded strongly. He was in the middle of his divorce with Beverley and I was in the middle of mine. Yes, we both drank a lot, but he could drink anybody under the table. The album was full of really touching songs. Chris Blackwell thought it was too personal. I later helped John get another record deal and we did Glorious Fool, which is edgier than people realise.
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Years later, I’d moved to Geneva and was very happy with my new lady. And John rang while I was just about to go into the dentist. He wanted me to produce another album, but I said, “I don’t think I can, John. I’ve got a new life here and I’m pretty busy setting up a house.”
He said, “I’ll come over!” I said, “Don’t come over!” ’Cos I was thinking of what my girlfriend might make of him; and, well, you couldn’t just dip into John. I loved him dearly but I couldn’t handle that then.
We worked out something where he sent me tapes and I’d put stuff on them, and it got him a new deal. Last time I ever saw him I presented him with an award at the Folk Awards. By this point he’d lost a leg and was in a wheelchair and looked like Orson Welles. But yeah, there’s a comparable intimacy, lyrically, on Face Value and Grace And Danger.
Do you understand why some elements of the public, or at least the press, got the hump with you when both yourself and Genesis were huge and ubiquitous?
I look back and realise I was never out of everyone’s eyeline, y’know? I was just omnipresent! But I can honestly say, on my children’s lives, it was simply enthusiasm. It wasn’t ambition; just one thing led to another. Same thing with Genesis – we thought playing the Marquee meant we’d made it. Then it was the Lyceum. Then the Rainbow. Then you think, “Hey, there’s a whole continent we haven’t played yet!” We’d keep gathering fans. But there was never really one moment where it changed: it changed gradually.
Nic was totally embraced by Genesis. And there was this 19-year-old coming into Genesis, just as I had
And as for me, I was being asked to do things by people whose records I’d bought – Robert Plant, Eric – and if you say no, I thought, they might not ask again. People choose to believe there was an ulterior motive or goal; but no, no, no, it wasn’t ego. I didn’t even want to be the Genesis singer! It happened by default. These things were just happening. There was no masterplan.
What’s your favourite Genesis album or period?
I enjoyed the last one, We Can’t Dance. But for me it’s more about memorable moments, pockets here and there throughout the whole thing. I used to love playing The Lamb live every night, singing along with Peter. I guess ...And Then There Were Three... wasn’t one of our best; it didn’t stay with me.
Your last tour and Genesis’ The Last Domino? gigs were emotional for audiences. How were they for you?
Well, I thought I’d done my solo farewells, but I guess... I missed it. And it was wonderful to see my son Nic playing drums behind me. Then Tony and Mike said, “Oh, he’s rather good, isn’t he?” So that was a no-brainer really. Nic was totally embraced by Genesis. And there was this 19-year-old coming into Genesis, just as I had at roughly the same age. Full circle. Hollywood couldn’t have written it better!
Any regrets?
I guess from a personal side I could say I’ve had regrets, and I should’ve done things differently. But then if I’d done that then I wouldn’t have the five great kids I’ve got today. So I can’t think like that. My glass is completely full. My kids all do what they want to do, and they’re good at it, and they’re happy. If I’d changed direction somewhere, all that might not have happened. It’s a win!
Will you be making any new music, do you think?
Kidneys and liver were waving the white flag. I was close to dying and I hadn’t realised
Um, I’m never gonna say no now. I’ve got my little studio still, and I’d like to get down there and just mess about and see what happens. There are some things I could finish. And other things which are finished. So, it’s not beyond the realms of possibility.
You’re looking well. The improvement in your health must encourage you.
Oh yeah, getting better. I went through some pretty dark times. Drink has come up a couple of times in this interview, but I was never “falling over” drunk. That wasn’t it. It was just drinking “normally,” as one would drink water. I’d wake up, have a glass of wine. Watch TV, read a book, have a glass of wine. And suddenly, some people’s insides can’t take it. Mine broke down.
My manager, Tony, called all the kids to Switzerland to have a meeting about me and my future. Because at one point it was kind of life support. Kidneys and liver were waving the white flag. I was close to dying and I hadn’t realised – I just thought I was sick. Well, really dark times. Spent a lot of time in hospital.
Then, pulling through that, I’ve had five operations on this knee. And drop foot. That’s why I have the crutches, just to make sure – I don’t want to fall over. But physically, now, I reckon I’m A-1, 100%. I’ve worked at it. Haven’t drunk for three years. I do physio three times a week, to bring me up to speed. All is good!
It’s been 10 years now since your autobiography Not Dead Yet. You should do a sequel.
Still Not Dead Yet, yeah! It’s all turned around completely. I’m closer to my children than I’ve ever been. We’ve seen together how fragile it can be. They’re proud of me for pulling through with flying colours, and everything – domestically, professionally – is all great. I’ve got no complaints. I’ve been very lucky. I never stop remembering that.
Chris Roberts has written about music, films, and art for innumerable outlets. His new book The Velvet Underground is out April 4. He has also published books on Lou Reed, Elton John, the Gothic arts, Talk Talk, Kate Moss, Scarlett Johansson, Abba, Tom Jones and others. Among his interviewees over the years have been David Bowie, Iggy Pop, Patti Smith, Debbie Harry, Bryan Ferry, Al Green, Tom Waits & Lou Reed. Born in North Wales, he lives in London.
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