In Defense of Phil Collins

We've all had those "that's just not funny" moments. We've all been the only person in the room not laughing at a joke we found distasteful.

I recently had one while zipping around online. To me, this "joke" is a manifestation of how cold we have gotten as a world society. It shows that, even in jest, we have adopted a belief that it is okay to simply shut down that with which we disagree or that which we don't prefer and that we can say what we feel like simply because we have a forum to do so -- no thought or consideration of others necessary. 

Recently, Phil Collins announced that he would come out of retirement. A few days ago, I saw that there is a petition -- that has been signed by thousands -- designed to force Phil Collins back into retirement. 

Yes, I know it is meant to be satirical and funny. To me, though, it is not funny. 

Maybe because I grew up, musically, on Gabriel and Collins era Genesis -- even though I may have faded away from them some time after Invisible Touch (or, in the case of Collins, No Jacket Required). Maybe it is because Collins's Hello I Must Be Going album spent nearly a year on my teenage turntable. Maybe it is because Collins was one of my early drumming idols. But, it could also be because I know what kind of work-ethic Collins has or because I know how sensitive he can be to criticism (based on what I have heard in interviews).

Or, maybe it is because I have come to believe that Collins is just a plain good guy, based on what I know of him. (He's the only artist who played both in London and Philly, on the same day, for Live Aid in the eighties. Why? Because he believed, in light of the kind of money he made, that it was the least he could do.) On top of it all -- why did he retire in the first place? Because of his kids. So he could raise them properly. Sounds like a good chap to me. 

Collins has always been saddened by the critics, who have never really been kind to him. Filling stadiums didn't change that, it seems... 

I know there are legions of people who are excited to see Phil come back, so this petition should not affect him in the least. But I think it will, on a personal level. And even if it doesn't, it is still not funny. 

What I do find funny is that the internet mobs are fine with attacking someone who, say, makes fun of fat people ("It's insensitive to make fat jokes; it's body shaming...") but they are fine with attacks on individuals. Further proof that the individual is getting swallowed up every day. Welcome to the collective...

I know the people who signed it and the guy who created it find themselves insufferably hip. I know that they are above beautiful songs like "Against All Odds" because they have moved on to the new crop of garage band level musicians who fumble along on their instruments (style out of weakness) and who piece together songs rolled out of cool and non-committal insincerity. And I hope this petition helps them to further convince themselves that they have a lens fixed on what is fashionable. I really do. They seem to need it. 

I also hope Phil knows that the cleverest of these clevers will be drowned out forever after a nice, fat, sold out world tour and by the thunder of a Collins/Thompson drum duet. 

I'm behind you, Phil. For what it's worth. 

Once Upon a Time Signature (A Parable)

Shelly Manne, Stan Kenton's (and many others')
 great drummer.

Once upon a time-signature, there was a young, wide-eyed kid who wanted to become a drummer. His parents, ever the encouraging and musical types, bought him a drum set that they probably couldn't afford. It was a hazy silver/grey color and it was one of the most beautiful things the boy had ever seen.

By the standards of a professional drummer, it wasn't the highest quality drum set, but the boy cherished it and polished it and he learned how to play by taking a few precious lessons and by playing along with records in his junk-crowded bedroom for hours on end. (His parents were also very, very patient.)

For all of his high school years, he would practice for hours each day. Guided by his father, an arranger and composer, he listened to recordings by all of the greats from the old days and he found the modern greats on his own. He was one of the few kids (if not the only one) in his high school who could tell you who Gene Krupa, Louis Bellson and Shelley Manne were, though he did listen carefully to Bill Bruford, Phil Collins, Chester Thompson, Vinnie Colaiuta and Neil Peart -- but mostly to Neil Peart.