Here's another rehashed piece...
This was written around 1984/1985, as a response to the literally hundreds of times people asked me "what was the reunion like?". With the friends from Paperlate (an Italian Genesis & Prog fanzine) we published the whole step by step - emotional, rather than musical - account as a special Xmas issue. It has since become a collector's item and I saw it for sale at Record Fairs for outrageous money...!
The article was later slightly revised and included as an appendix in my book "Sognando Un Mondo Reale" (published in 1986) - later still, this was nearly verbatim quoted in the liner notes of the bootleg "The Lamb Woke Up Again".
Sometimes in 2006 I made my first (very short lived) steps in the "blogging arena": there were huge rumours about another possible reunion, at the time, and I decided to translate the old article into English. In doing so, I tried to stick as much as possible to the original idea of a "flow of (un)consciousness" report.
I thought of republishing it last saturday, on the anniversary day of that historical October the 2nd, but I was (luckily!) too busy watching PG in Koln. Oh, whatever... "here it comes again" ...
Foreword #1
1980 saw the birth of a very peculiar fanzine, by the name of The Bristol Recorder. It consists of a written part (articles, interviews, reviews...) and an audio one in the form of an Lp (dedicated to "local" bands and musicians out of the Bristol area). Bath is in fact only a handful of miles away from Bristol, and Peter Gabriel has just finished sorting out his own studio in the district, so he offers it to the fanzine people to record some local act. As a thank you, one might believe, and at the same time as a way of gaining a wider appeal and recognition, the second issue of The Recorder includes an interview with PG - one of the most interesting I had seen at the time, showing a clever approach steering quite far off the beaten path of the "why did you leave genesis?" times. Plus, featured in the audio section on the Lp, are 3 live takes from different stages of Peter's career, remixed and dabbed with for the occasion... (sigh!). Amongst the fanzine authors and promoters is a guy called Thomas Brooman, and the friendship between him and Peter, sparked on that occasion, survives alive and robust to this day.
Foreword #2
A dream is born as friends talk, exchange opinions, and
discover their shared interested in non-western music. And in the course
of nearly two years they organize a three day festival to be held at
the Royal Bath And West Show-ground, near Shepton Mallet, between the
16th and the 18th of July 1982).
Three days dedicated to a World Of Music Arts And Dance. WOMAD.
What is it exactly? That's not easy to say for the rock crowd that was used to the Readings and Knebworths of those years: there's music of course, but also books, stalls, foods, costumes, meetings, lessons... Taking part in it are artists from 56 different countries, from all over the world. Fort those who attended a revealing experience of something we had never seen the like of.
But for the organizers it's the beginning of a nightmare: not enough media coverage and a British Railway strike crash the original dream of gathering something between 50 and 60 thousand people. Only about 20.000 show up at the gates. Gabriel had helped spend his name with potential sponsors and the site workers, and when things turned sour his name was the one the creditors appealed to seeking compensation. Big time trouble indeed.
Foreword #3
On September the 15th, 1982, Genesis play a concert on the very same ground that Womad had used 2 months earlier. Peter is there too to say hi to his old band-mates. Having learned of his troubles the band offers him the proceeds from one of their shows. Peter gracefully declines. Enters Tony Smith, at the time manager of both Peter and Genesis: he is the first to devise a way that the group might help its former singer without hurting any feelings. A reunion show. After some internal struggle - he had done all he could to separate his own solo career from the band's past years - Gabriel accepts. The show is set for October the 2nd, 1982, and will take place at the end of Genesis' European leg of the tour, at the Milton Keynes Bowl. On that day, Mike Rutherford celebrates his 31st birthday.
This time, the show his publicized all over the globe, on both sides of the Atlantic and even in AUstralia and Japan. The result is that on October 1st, at about 10 p.m., under a steady rain, there's already a few hundred people sleeping and queuing in front of the gates... It has begun...
(sleeping?)
October 2nd, 1982
John Martin...
Blues Band...
Talk Talk...
and then...
Black curtains are drawn to reveal the stage, still immersed in darkness. A few blue spots are turned on. A weird guy with a glittering green livery, full of shiny buttons and ribbons, gets to the centre of the stage and starts to talk: "About 15 years ago...". We don't have a clue, but from his words we gather he is Jonathan King. Heck, who cares... 60.000 people are jumping up and down as one when his speech gets to an end: "...Please welcome Six Of The Best!".
We hear drums, a pre recorded and very familiar pattern. All the musicians walk in and take their place at their respective instruments and positions. The drums go on. And on.
4 more guys out of a funeral parlor, all in black with matching top hats, walk onto the stage carrying a white coffin. It lasts for a couple of minutes but it feels like hours. The guys walk away and the coffin lid starts to move, almost imperceptibly. Amidst the huge crowd noise it seems one can actually hear the evil creaking from the wood being unriveted.
I see faces and traces of home...
Resurrection?! Indeed, the man that comes out of the coffin has nothing to do with the Peter Gabriel we had learned to love in those 7 years since he did "resign". The guy standing there, shouting his lungs out, is none other than Rael. And even though you have never seen the band before 1976 you just "get it" in a flash, grasping what a "Gabriel era" Genesis show must have been like. It really is just a matter of seconds, while Rael runs all over the place, and you do understand it all.
Can you tell me where my country lies?
And it's a giant chorus that entirely submerges the sound system.
We don't have time to breathe, to reassure ourselves that it's all true, and the classic synth arpeggio of Carpet Crawlers brings us to yet another dimension. The crawlers cover the floor...
Yes, I realize that there is no way of treating this as a concert review. Everything one can write about this "concert" just becomes sort of obvious, useless, redundant. When Peter literally crawls, slowly, on his knees, towards the edge of the stage, everybody in the front rows of the audience is simply convinced that his eyes are firmly planted on him. Each and every one. And they're all probably right! It doesn't matter if the voice is different, the tone has changed and it really doesn't match the majestic music the other five guys are pushing through in the background. It doesn't matter if he forgets the words. It might be sweat, or rain, but those on his cheeks - on our cheeks - are the sweetest tears ever. Shivers so intense get hold of my spine, running from head to toes, that I'm literally, physically, out of myself.
You've got to get in to get out...
This time, as the last notes fade away, all of the 60.000 delirious fans sing together "Happy Birthday" to Mike. When we're through, Peter speaks for the first time: he tells us about Womad and explains that "In return for your cash we will try to give you what we think you would like of this combination". Phil counts the time and
The path is clear, though no eyes can see...
What can I say about such a piece? We smile when Peter picks his flute up, but has to look back at Phil and wait for him to signal - counting out the time once more - for the right moment to join in the instrumental. But you're immediately captured by the guitar and keyboards which seem to be there, at that precise moment, reminding everyone that there's some amazing musicianship on that stage. I guess most of the people were there looking for a night of nostalgia and discovery at the same time: it was Peter back with Genesis, not the other way round... But Phil sitting "quietly" behind his drums, dueting with Chester, gives us an unheard of, unprecedented sound. Mike and Tony are there: what else could I say that doesn't sound trite? Clean, efficient, majestic. To my ears the weakest link is Daryl: not that he isn't an excellent musician, he just isn't Steve... After the instrumental bridge, Peter comes back on stage but he has changed from Rael's leather jacket to a white shirt. "The sands of time were eroded by the river of constant change". And the last piano notes hang there in the air for what seems like an eternity.
"This is a message from all up here to you down there, particularly at the back [the stage was at least 3 meters high]: it's a good job it isn't raining. We appreciate that you're still here".
Now, besides the fact that it WAS raining... who in his right state of mind would have ever dreamed of leaving the place at that moment? "Naah, seen a couple of songs, you seen them all... Let's go for a pint..." Yeah, like that would happen!
"Croquet is a particularly vicious British sport..."
Cynthia, Henry, the nurse: all the characters from the best musical fable ever written come back to life. And I'm reminded of all the critics who have written off Genesis music as "stinking", "old", "dated and unable to withstand the passing of time". Well, there we are, and when the Musical Box is opened once again the sound it delivers is as current as can be. It is in fact eternal. Energy on stage is at its peak: phenomenal. It's almost as if they never went their separate ways: even the voice now matches the music to perfection. Maybe I did get distracted and had a quick glimpse at the other musicians, but when the time comes for the guitar/keyboard solos Peter is nowhere to be seen. As suddenly as he vanished he reappears, donning a long black coat and an old man's mask. Different from the one I knew from pictures. With longer hair, and I smirk to myself at the thought that in the magical world of Genesis even props get older...
I've been waiting here for so looong...
why don't you touch me...
NOW... NOW... NOW... NOW... NOW...
This is crazy. When the old man falls back on his knees, in unrequited love/lust, you feel yourself falling down with him. And if it were not for the astonishing crowd at your back you'd just be happy to end it there and then, drowning in the mud that by now is up to our knees.
After some really weird and not totally understandable babble form Peter about soap bars, birthday boy and traveling in a wardrobe... it's time for something "that has nothing to do with one of these: Solsbury Hill".
Wow. Double wow!
We're really getting too far out here: Peter is singing the song that everybody thinks "explains" the reasons why he left Genesis... together with them! A nearly impeccable execution and it's time for introducing all the rest of the guys on stage. Chester, Daryl, Mike, Tony and then "a talented new singer who I'm sure you will like, and he will sing you one of his songs: Phil Collins!" He jumps out of his hiding kit and in turn announces: "and for the first time on drums: Peter Gabriel!" and Chester drives it on with the 4/4ths beat on the bass drum for Turn It On Again.
Another aside reflection that seemed to emerge in my deeply altered state of conscience [entirely due to the current event and not chemically or alcoholically induced, let me reassure you!], was that the songs, title and verses, all had some "deeper" meaning, and that their sequence in itself had a sort of not-too-hidden message...
- "I see faces and traces of home"
- "Can you tell me where my country lies?"
- "You've got to get in to get out"
- "The path is clear"
- "I've been waiting here for so long"
After a "wonderful" mistake by PG in telling the "wrong" story, we're introduced to the adventures of a man by the name of Saplock (uh?). He was a collector of all kinds of rubbish, so when his dog Renaldo died he decided he wanted to keep him all the same and brought him to a taxidermist... After a week, Saplock tried to find for the stuffed Renaldo a more comfortable position and put him on the table in front of the fireplace. All of a sudden the dog's eyes started to move, as well as his tail. And even the table began sprouting leaves and branches. Everything started moving back in time and even a rock went back to life. And it was a little "Lamb".
"Early morning Manhattan..."
Yes indeed: Rael comes back with a vengeance and we're chasing him around the New York City scenery and into a world that allows for a new journey of discovery with every listen. 8 years have passed since this music was written and performed first, and it is amazing, in the age of synth-pop, that one can still hear it coming alive! The doubled-up drums are doing an extraordinary job, and nobody gives a damn when Peter messes up a wee bit of the newly arranged finale to the song. But wait: that is not a finale...
"Something solid's forming in the air..."
WTF? What are they getting themselves - and us - into? "Echoes of the Broadway everglades..."
Good grief. I don't believe it: it can't be true!
"I got sunshine in my stomach..."
Blimey! I start to believe they'll keep on going, so even though I hear In The Cage drawing to a conclusion, I'm partially deluded of having been transported back to 1975 and that the full Lamb will follow... When some of the shock wears down and flows in waves out of my body, I can begin to breath again. Not for long, though, as Peter goes back to the story he mistakenly anticipated before this totally new "Lamb stew": the girl in green trousers suit (and matching poodle...). And again, I think how bizarre is the fact that we're listening to one of the factual reasons why Peter left the band. The story, printed on the back sleeve of the Genesis Live album of 1973, actually prompted director Will Friedkin to get in touch with Gabriel offering him to write a movie script. And in due turn this brought to the first major fracture in the group, way before the Lamb was actually written or even conceived.
Anyway, the end of the story reveals that the words written on the laundry ticket pinned to the suit were...
... Supper's Ready ... And this is "the moment". The one song that every one of the 60.000 people inside the Bowl - bar a dozen or two (and I'm talking about the cleaning squad for the venue after the show) - probably wanted to hear the most. It's easily the most allegorical and symbolical song in the whole Genesis repertoire. For most simply the best. And finally, it's at this point that it enters my mind that I'm actually witnessing a real Genesis concert.
"Walking across the sitting room"
On stage, Peter looks as emotional as he probably was at that very first Charterhouse gig with The Anon and Garden Wall. Those in the crowd, if they feel half of what I am feeling, are reduced to nervous wrecks.
"It's been a long long time..."
The mixture of tears and rain is what I remember the most.
"Hey you!"
It's a giant, gripping and enthralling chorus. And Peter is evidently crying once again."Wearing feelings on our faces..."
No need to, in fact. There is no possible way of masking the real sentiments pouring out of his and our visages.
"Today's a day to celebrate..."
...and so it will for years and years to come, in some private yet shared ritual, everyone with his private memories and feelings, yet all aware that tonight is something so special that it will always be with us for as long as we live. "Wandering in the chaos..."
Chaos in and out of ourselves. We don't really know where we are or who we are any more. I realize, putting this down on paper, that readers who were not there will pity such evident exaggerations. But I can only try to convey and share what I was feeling. The input of data to my brain was a total overload. No way of rationally explain all of it. And thinking back of it I'm transported again against that front row barrier, shouting like a madman totally out of myself. And although I know that these will be different for every person there that night, millions of little details flash again in front of my eyes, and twice as many probably escape me...
"A flower?"
The new flower mask frames Narcissus face (still a little dirty with Rael's make up). An incredible dance that can probably only be approximately described as a cross between an Irish jig and Monty Python's Ministry Of Silly Walks sketch.
"All change!"
And every expression on Peter's face changes in tune with the music and words. And we finally get to the Apocalypse. The "uncovering". The "revelation". Varilites bring on an atmosphere that Saint Peter's has been seriously studying to try and copy it on Judgement's Day: sudden lightning and flashes, smoke clouds and thundering music...
"Six six sis is no longer alone"
It's a revelation of all your innermost sensations. "I've been so far from here, far from your loving arms: now I'm back again..."
I realize that I've been shouting at the top of my voice but not a single sound as come out of my throat. Peter's voice is broken, fractured. The sword/light of good triumphs over evil, and the neon reflected in Peter's eyes provokes visions of angels... Maybe the New Jerusalem, paradise, the place for peace by antonomasia is right here, in this lake of mud, were we are tired and wet to our marrows, and yet happy as clams at high tide, at peace with ourselves and the rest of the world. Nirvana.
It's the beginning of the end...
The six are back on stage to give us what we know and what we like. And when Steve arrives on stage to join the rest of the band, while Peter is tirelessly thanking everybody - organizers, promoters, musicians, audience... - adrenalin is being pumped once more from our kidneys to our brains! After the first time I saw them, I had never really enjoyed Phil's tambourine and audience routine... But there and then, the fully relaxed atmosphere, the feeling that we had lived through it all and survived helped me enjoying it to the core. Maybe because a little unexpected help came from Peter, who started "pushing" ("sledging", if you catch my drift...) Collins behind his back till about an inch off the edge of the stage... The stare he got back from Phil was priceless!
Six, no, Seven Of The Best.
A total far bigger than the sum of its parts. Something unique to that time and place. It's impossible to make any kind of comparison between that and "old" Genesis, between old and new, or Hackett or Gabriel solo careers... Utter nonsense.
"It's your show!"
Everybody's show: the musicians and the managers, the technicians and the fans. It's Milton Keynes. And it's not over yet.
"The kniiiiife!"
The shortened version. As if, on such a night, they could have even thought of doing the full one! Rock, prog, whatever: call it what you want, it's something so special that this band is a "genre" of its own. And one of the most vivid details I still have burnt in my memory cells is Peter's final jump at the end of the song. But it ain't over yet.
Once again, they all come back on stage, donning some funny and clownish red noses. Why? I don't have a clue, and I still wonder to this day why did they want to end the night in bloodshed: as it happens, they took the noses off and threw them to the crowd. And where they fell, sudden hills of people amassed on each other kicking and screaming, searching in complete darkness in a sea of mud for some small red plastic ball to carry home as a souvenir!
The final words from Peter are "Good night! See you next time!".
Whh... what? next where? next when?!?!?
Setlist
Back In NYC
Dancing With The Moonlit Knight/Carpet Crawlers
Firth Of Fifth
The Musical BoxSolsbury Hill
Turn It On Again
The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway
Broadway Melody Of '74
In The Cage
Supper's Ready
The Knife
I Know What I Like
Golly it all comes back! You obviously had a better view than me, but the emotions were no different. I'd started Poly the week before, but that seemed an insignificant event compared to that gig. It was my dream come true. I feel so blessed I'd got there. I really have no recollection of the rain, cos what was happening to the ears and heart was all that mattered...
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