TAPE Me Back To The Future — MADE For Tape # 10: Phil Collins, “…But Seriously” (1989)

An occasional series here that celebrates the cassette-tape format in all its glory. Wobbles

Phil Collins, …But Seriously (1989)

My friend Richard owned …But Seriously on vinyl. And I thought that was pretty cool. He didn’t have many records, pretty much just that and Bon Jovi’s New Jersey, and Appetite for Destruction by Guns n’ Roses. We used to mock-play his parents’ Mantovani and Beethoven and Richard Clayderman. But we did a lot of listening to …But Seriously.

I always hated those dots.

But I loved Phil Collins. My story, and I’ve stuck to it forever, was that I loved Phil Collins for the drumming, and the innovative use of drum programming. He created patterns via the machines that influenced future samplers and DJs and producers, and of course he was a beast of a player. I liked some of the Genesis material, and there were all sorts of cameos that featured Collins on drums, whether it was the annoying charity Christmas single where the rich white rock stars suggested we all feed the poors, and we mocked their privilege while doing nothing much about it much ourselves…or, whether it was Phil Collins on drums for Brian Eno, Robert Plant, and Eric Clapton. A lot of that would come later in my listening (apart from the Eric Clapton).

I never had…But Seriously on tape. But I had the Serious Hits…Live! concert album from the following year. It had the cloying hit singles from this album (Another Day In Paradise, Do You Remember) and a “serious” appraisal of Phil’s back-catalogue to date. Four albums into his solo career and he was just smashing it out. And there was the obvious proof.

Eventually I would get …But Seriously on CD. And then, briefly, I did own it on vinyl. It was the start of my cautiousness around outing myself so fully a Phil fan. Peopled seemed wound up by Another Day in Paradise’s lecturing, and the saccharine nature of the pop-aspect to the hits started to grind. But I still loved his voice, and the playing, and what I did love about this album was the deep cuts. There’s that instrumental where the horns just go wild and Phil hits those drums in a whole different way. I absolutely adored that.

And there’s some bigger songs, longer, stronger, and more expansive. And of course that’s just red rag to a bull, because people had decided they were sick of the sight of Phil Collins. They started hanging onto insults around him being a bald prick, and divorcing his wife via fax, and that weird rumour about setting up the public shaming of the person that murdered his childhood friend in a sadistic drowning (none of which happened, but these were internet-free days, huh).

I saw …But Seriously on cassette tape recently. And purchased it with glee. (And with actual money too, of course).

I all but skipped home to play it. I’d been hanging in long enough…

It doesn’t have the all-around innovation of his debut, it’s not new-wave-y like his second album, doesn’t contain any real darkness, nor the bevy of hits that are on the monumental (and therefore annoying) No Jacket Required, but it’s the fourth album in a row to feature his face on the cover, and a sophisticated range of pop songs that showcase an incredible vocal talent, arranging gift, multi-instrumental dazzle, and ‘big’ production palette. Which is fan-speak for “fuck yeah!” And too-cool-school-speak for “fuck, no!”

I’ll pop my tongue back in my mouth now. It was a fascinating journey to hear this record again, and in this way. It sounds better on this format. It feels right. And the back half of it, the album tracks, not the hit singles, does point to where he went in the 90s, slightly lost, and a little beige, yes. But there’s also some incredible performances. All Of My Life, Find A Way To My Heart, and Father To Son, all peak Collins writing and singing.

But you lot don’t want to know that. And I respect that. Kinda.