All right, Phil. What’s the deal?
Three days ago, I read “Phil Collins Quitting Music Due to Health Problems”*. You apparently told FHM “I don’t really belong to that world and I don’t think anyone’s going to miss me. I’m much happier just to write myself out of the script entirely… I’m sorry that it was all so successful. I honestly didn’t mean it to happen like that. It’s hardly surprising that people grew to hate me.” You added, “It feels like a good time to stop for a while.”
Yesterday, I read “Phil Collins Is Not Retiring”. Your rep says, “He is not, has no intention of, retiring.”
WTF?
Some of us can’t handle this emotional roller coaster, Phil. I’m so confused and depressed that I’m going to go listen to “Against All Odds” and gently weep.
Look, Phil—Mr. Collins—I’m going to be frank with you. For all the amazing music you’ve created, you’ve also made some pretty shitty fluff. Hey! I say this as a fan, sir! Many are willing to overlook the copious album filler because the good stuff is so good. A listen to “Down and Out” makes me just about forget “Groovy Kind of Love”. Brand X? Holy crap, I forgive you for “You Can’t Hurry Love”.
My advice to you is to return to your roots. Reunite Genesis. Of course it’s sad that you can’t play drums anymore; you’ve been such an influence on so many. Solution: make Chester Thompson the permanent drummer. Just belt out something awesome over a kick-ass mixed-meter tune.
Prog isn’t dead, it just smells funny.
* [Let’s be clear about one thing: I don’t read this tripe. The story was linked on IMDb. Really. I swear.]
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