The renowned Genesis lead singer and drummer Phil Collins has enjoyed enormous success in the music business over his illustrious career.
Joining Michael Jackson and Paul McCartney as the only performers with over 100 million records sold through both solo and collaborative projects, he is one of three. Collins was exposed to music at a young age. He was born on January 30, 1951, in London, England, to parents who were artists.
The move that would define his sound came when he was five years old and received a homemade drum kit from his uncle. It included tambourines, triangles, cymbals, and miniature drums.
Key bands like The Shadows led the way as the English beat genre started to take shape. In addition to leading this movement, Collins would frequently perform at get-togethers thrown by his parents’ sailing club.
Collins was first exposed to rock and roll at the age of fourteen, when The Beatles motivated him to buy a record player and Please Please Me. He would put his drums in front of a mirror and turn up the record player’s volume so he wouldn’t have to look at what he was doing.
To learn how to read drum music, which was necessary if one wished to work in an orchestra pit or dance band, he decided to take drum lessons from a teacher. But Collins soon discovered that reading sheet music was not nearly as good as playing spontaneously.
In the 1970s, Collin’s life took an unexpected turn after he came upon an advertisement for Genesis’ drummer. Collins got in touch with them, and they were happy to have him on board, which launched his incredible musical career.
Many of the songs from The Beatles’ five albums went on to become timeless classics that we still love to this day. Due to a dearth of worthy contenders, Collins assumed the role of lead vocalist for the band quite quickly.
He took a while to get used to being a drummer as well as a voice, but he persisted and became one of the greatest musicians of our time.
As a solo artist and a member of the legendary band Genesis, Collins enjoyed enormous success in the music industry. Hits like “I Don’t Care Anymore,” “In The Air Tonight,” and “You Can’t Hurry Love” propelled him to the top of the music business.
After 25 years with Genesis, Collins made the decision to change directions in his career, concentrating on jazz ventures, movie soundtracks, and his solo endeavors. He said he hoped his old comrades would have a successful career, but when 2017 came around, he decided to go back on the road with them for their Last Domino tour.
Sadly, the pandemic forced a postponement of this tour, and shortly before it started, Phil spoke with BBC Breakfast, raising some concerns regarding his health. With Phil on vocals and Nicholas Collins on drums, the band plans to play live again despite this setback.
Nic is a fantastic drummer, but according to Tony Banks, he could add even more intensity to the already strong early Phil Collins tunes.
Speaking on his retirement from drumming, Phil remarked, “I’d like to, but I can scarcely grip a stick with this hand.” Despite the challenges that come with being physically limited, Phil has not allowed them to deter him from pursuing his love of music.
The storyteller, a man our age, spoke with a palpable sense of loss as he outlined his physical struggles. He bemoaned not being able to travel with his kid and hear about his travels.
He wasn’t sure if he wanted to carry on traveling because of his health. His remarks gave off a dejected vibe, as though he had accepted that he could no longer engage in some activities and that they were off-limits to him.
He felt pressured and faced with a difficult decision: stick on his current course or stop his travels. It dawned on him that either way, a physical constraint or a deliberate choice would force him to give up something he valued. He was troubled by this and felt as though he might miss out on a lot of opportunities in life as a result of this sudden change in his circumstances.
MY HUSBAND SPENT OUR FAMILY’S SAVINGS FOR A CAR ON A PARIS TRIP FOR HIS MOM — SO I TAUGHT HIM A LESSON ABOUT FINANCES.
The weight of the betrayal settled in my stomach like a cold stone. Three years. Three years of sacrifice, of pinching pennies and foregoing simple pleasures, all for a car that would keep our family safe. And he’d squandered it. On a whim. On a trip to Paris for his mother.
David, bless his oblivious heart, seemed genuinely surprised by my reaction. He’d always been a mama’s boy, and I’d tolerated it, even indulged it, to a point. But this? This was beyond the pale.
“It’s my money too!” he’d protested, his voice rising in that familiar defensive tone. “She deserves it! You can’t put a price on gratitude.”
I’d simply stared at him, my mind reeling. Gratitude? What about gratitude for the sacrifices I’d made, for the countless hours I’d spent juggling work, kids, and household chores? What about gratitude for the safety of our children?
I knew arguing would be futile. He was locked in his own world of justifications, and I wasn’t about to waste my breath. Instead, I retreated, a quiet fury simmering beneath my composed exterior.
Over the next few days, I played the part of the understanding wife. I smiled, nodded, and even helped him pack his mother’s suitcase. I listened patiently as he recounted his mother’s excited phone calls, her plans for sightseeing and shopping.
But beneath the surface, I was plotting. I was determined to teach him a lesson about finances, about responsibility, about the true meaning of family.
First, I contacted his mother. I explained the situation, the crumbling van, the precarious state of our family finances. She was mortified. She’d always been a sensible woman, and she was appalled by her son’s impulsive decision. She offered to pay for the trip herself, but I declined. Instead, I suggested a compromise. She could still go to Paris, but for a shorter period, a weekend getaway rather than a full week. The difference in cost would be returned to our car fund.
Next, I tackled the issue of David’s “my money too” argument. I opened a joint account, separate from our everyday expenses, and deposited the remaining car fund, along with the money his mother had returned. I then created a detailed budget, outlining our household expenses, including the cost of a new (used) car. I presented it to David, highlighting the glaring discrepancy between our needs and his impulsive spending.
I also introduced him to the concept of “family meetings.” Every Sunday, we would sit down together, discuss our finances, and make joint decisions about spending. The kids were included, too, learning about the value of money and the importance of saving.
Finally, I decided to address the issue of his mother’s constant demands. I didn’t want to create a rift between them, but I needed to establish boundaries. I suggested that we set aside a small portion of our budget for gifts and experiences for both our families, to be agreed upon by both of us.
The changes weren’t immediate. David grumbled about the budget, about the “unnecessary” family meetings. But slowly, he began to understand. He started to appreciate the sacrifices I’d made, the careful planning that kept our family afloat. He even started to enjoy the family meetings, seeing them as an opportunity to connect with the kids and make joint decisions.
The day we drove our newly purchased (used) car home, David looked at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of regret and gratitude. “Thank you,” he said, his voice sincere. “For teaching me.”
I smiled. “We’re a team, David,” I said. “And teams work together.”
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