Phil Collins collects Alamo memorabilia. And it’s not hard to understand why. Like the folks at the Alamo, Collins who’d once ruled the airwaves, suddenly found himself beleaguered by music listeners who dismissed him as a middle of the road hack. Both as the frontman of the pop era Genesis and as a solo artist, Collins produced music so uninspired it might have killed the Mexicans besieging the Alamo from boredom.
False rumors of the drummer/vocalist briefly put Collins back in the news, but that’s hardly the kind of publicity fallen superstars are looking for—better an album proving that inside the anodyne Collins there was an edgy badass screaming to be let out. Problem is the edgy badass doesn’t exist—before being beset by various health problems, Collins was a world-class drummer, but the same can’t be said for his songs. They’re workmanlike, for sure. But when Lionel Richie’s “Dancing on the Ceiling” comes off as Avant Garde in comparison, you’re in trouble.
Collins’ 1985 solo album No Jacket Required is a typical representative of his work, which is to say it’s as flavorless as a bowl of unflavored oatmeal. Twelve songs about relationships, most of them gone bad. Lyrics no more adventurous than the music itself. Naturally the LP sold millions of copies. And spawned five singles, all of which reached the Top Ten. Two went to Number One.
The songs on No Jacket Required are prime examples of the take-no-chances school of songwriting. The most impressive thing about the fast-paced “Sussudio” is that it’s the perfect example of the ’80s sound. It doesn’t belong on your record player, but in a time capsule along with the MTV logo and the pickled head of Huey Lewis. Collins’ Roland TR-909 Rhythm Composer drum machine gives it that ubiquitous programmed beat, while the flashy horns sum up the era’s idea of “Fun.”
“Only You and I Know” passes for rock and roll; you get the horns again; Collins keeps a ferocious beat on a real drum set; and Daryl Stuermer plays some nice guitar. I can almost listen to this one without blanching. “Long Way to Go” features Sting on backing vocals and has the atmospheric feel of “In the Air Tonight.” Unfortunately “In the Air Tonight” is a superior song.
“I Don’t Wanna Know” keeps a breakneck pace but suffers from eighties poisoning; you’ve heard the melody before, plenty of times—it’s a soothingly familiar bedtime story that will put you to sleep in seconds. I’m not inclined to give “One More Night” one more night—the first one was horrible enough. Collins’ LinnDrum lends the fast-paced “Don’t Lose My Number” a subpar Michael Jackson vibe. Advice to Rikki: throw this number in the trash.
“Who Said I Would” also captures that bland eighties sound—the ubiquitous perky horns make me want to puke a trombone, and Collins’ Simmons electronic drums and David Franks’ Minimoog bass are deja vu all over again. And again. Collins’ powerhouse drumming is about the only thing to be said for “Doesn’t Anybody Stay Together Anymore.” “It’s the same old story,” he sings. Make that the same old song.
“Inside Out” boasts Collin’s big drum sound but is otherwise an exercise in boiling an egg. If Collins had an interesting bone in his skeleton, the mid-tempo “Take Me Home” would be about a small child throwing a hissy fit; as it is the only thing to be said about the song is its truly transcendent chorus featuring Sting, Peter Gabriel, and the great Helen Troy. It’s easily the highpoint of an otherwise lackluster affair, and one of the few tender threads keeping me from making Collins repeat Songwriting for Beginners.
No Jacket Required was hardly Phil Collins’ Last Stand—his 1989 LP …But Seriously topped the charts in every country in the world including Albania and North Korea. But there came the day when the world turned its guns on Phil, making him the antithesis of cool. And he found himself in his own private Alamo, fighting and losing to an enemy named Phil Collins.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
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