Reunion Tour!

Yes, it's happening. Former supergroup (long since rendered non-super by the dual kryptonites of time and taste) Genesis is reforming in its most commercially-successful incarnation, fronted by Phil Collins, with Tony Banks on keyboards and Mike Rutherford (of And The Mechanics fame) on bass/guitars. This was the creative trio that gave us the semi-classic (or at least kitschy) hits like That's All, Throwing It All Away, No Reply At All... and others, without "all" in the titles like Land of Confusion, Invisible Touch, and the painful-to-sing-along-with I Can't Dance.

Now. I have in my possesion pretty much everything this band has every mass-released. Even (or especially) the unwieldy prog stuff and over-string-arrangemented first release from 1969 "From Genesis To Revelation" (which had no artist title and got bumped into religious bins at record stores and has only sold half-decently in retrospect. I have owned posters, kept typed-up sheets of their lyrics (before such things were available online, when you had to pry them from the song pause-by-pause), even wrote a story once about the existential mysteries contained in the title of and words to "Abacab" (turns out those are just the chords they use in the song, duh). Thought it was genius.

Hell, this blog is named after one of their freaking songs!

So, now I should be elated that they're regrouping. But, yes, you do detact a hint of bitterness in my tone.

The limey bastards will only be touring in Europe.

So. I'm a little peeved. But it's probably for the best. This lineup is not really my favorite anyway. They were much more interesting before Peter Gabriel then Steve Hacket left the band. So I probably would've been disappointed.

Yup. Disappointed. And wouldn't at all have wept hysterically like a teenage girl when the Beatles landed in the States that first time. Especially if they played their 20-minute art-rock masterpiece "Suppers Ready." Would not have wept at all. Especially right at the end, when the guitar wails along to the imagery of a solitary angel crying loudly as a distorted, horrific, blood-soaked yet strangely beautiful version of Revelation comes to a close.

I'm gonna go listen to The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway now. And anybody who says a guy pretending to have split personality disorder while wearing waaay too heavy stage makeup and playing the oboe isn't cool... well, they can just... pretty much... be in agreement with the rest of world.

Not including Europe.