Happy 40th Anniversary to Phil Collins’ debut solo album Face Value, originally released February 13, 1981.
Well, I re-mem-ber!
Over the years, it's become a form of music snobbery to slag off Phil Collins. To whittle down his contributions as a crucial member in Genesis and an illustrious (and yes, ok, at times ubiquitous) solo career earning him hits, GRAMMY and Oscar nods along the way to be a sonic punchline of sorts.
Some of the criticism may have been warranted, some even ego-driven and self-inflicted. But for any sins he may have committed upon your poor listener's ears, his absolution will also come in the form of taking his breakthrough solo debut Face Value out for a spin.
In an extended pause from being the drummer, then frontman, for Genesis while other members pursued solo recordings, Collins took a moment of self-reflection and spun it into gold and platinum. With his marriage disintegrated after prolonged struggles and his bandmates off doing their own thing, Collins began to channel his pain, heartache, isolation, and hope into new tunes. And slowly, he pulled together a collection of songs that owed as much to prog-rock and Eno-inspired ambience as it did to Motown Soul and Jackson funk.
Setting out to make an album that mixed genres and showcased various styles, Collins delivered in a way few could have imagined.
With sonic wizard in-the-making Hugh Padgham by his side, Collins set to work on crafting an album he would want to listen to, something that would wind its way through several styles and musical influences, and would mix mood pieces with all-out commercial smashes.
The album begins with a song that would be career-defining and decade defying, the gloriously moody "In The Air Tonight." Set against a slowed down preset disco beat from his trusty Roland CR-78 drum machine that he tweaked further to remove the snare to give the track some space, sustained guitars buzz and wail as a foggy synth bed drifts in. With a myth-inducing lead vocal narrative delivered spontaneously into the mic, Collins' delivery is a mix of bubbling brooding emotion, with a hint of paranoia and menace. The song's slow build and the promise of "I can feel it coming in the air tonight" add to the track's intrigue and intensity.
And through a spot of studio serendipity that gave birth to the defining "gated reverb" sound of the ‘80s, the song cements itself into the annals of music history with the barking drum fill that would go on to inspire generations of air-drummers every time it was heard.
The second half of the song builds on the menacing threat as the drums pound with unrelenting animosity and energy, and Collins allows his vocals to attach to the pain of the lyrics. In the space of its five-minute run time, Collins creates an eerily timeless track that connects to us like a primal scream. And it became the album's first unlikely smash hit.
As the album progresses through its 48 minutes, you are introduced to different sides of the artist. There's the soft, soulful romantic balladeer singing of rebirth in "This Must Be Love" that builds on the airy feel of "In The Air Tonight" and adds some heart and body to it.
This is followed by the reworking of the Genesis track "Behind The Lines" that trades its prog-rock sensibilities for the shimmering funk and soul of Michael Jackson. Spurred on by another happy accident when Collins played the original Genesis track at high speed, he heard the possibility of transforming it into a finger-snapping, shoe shuffling groove with high pitched Jackson delivery and funky horn blasts courtesy of Earth, Wind & Fire's brass section, The Phenix Horns. The sound is bouncing and joyous and trades off against the brooding and questioning of the preceding tracks.
This upbeat feel is placed elsewhere in the album in the spring step of "Thunder and Lightning" and the heavy Motown influence of "I Missed Again" with its self-deprecating lyrics and happy loser archetype. It's also present in the McCartney feel of "I'm Not Moving," which proves his pop-chops.
But of course, any album credited in the fallout of divorce can't stay too up for too long, and heartache gets an airing in the solemn piano ballad "You Know What I Mean," which is filled with hurt, regret, and lament. Equally, the slow soul of "If Leaving Me Is Easy" allows the pain to linger seductively.
Collins’ ability to craft a compelling narrative is present in the Delta-Blues tinged "The Roof Is Leaking" that sets hopeless desperation against crippling poverty, in the plight of a struggling farmer/frontiersman working hard to make ends meet and hoping that life can hang on to warmer, sunnier days.
For many of Face Value's high points ("In The Air Tonight," "Behind The Lines," "I Missed Again"), the album's power comes towards the end of side 1 with the double sonic punch of "Droned" and "Hand In Hand" that is prog rock mastery mixed with tribal chants and choral tones and an unmissable eight minutes of sonic mood. These two tracks are everything right with Phil Collins: moody atmospherics, the driving percussive meter, the revolving melody, the sparse sonic landscape, and melding of mood and movements that culminate in another glorious tour de force around Collins drumkit that is enough to excite any fellow drummer.
The album closes with another highpoint, with Collins' take on The Beatles' "Tomorrow Never Knows." Taking on The Beatles' own studio mastery and running trippy tape loops throughout the track, the song reinvents Ringo's signature groove into one that bookends perfectly with the feel and groove of "In The Air Tonight."
Face Value is a musical journey of experimentation and reflection. Its many moods see it branching out into so many musical styles, yet it still retains a singular voice and focus. Say what you will about Collins' later releases, but I'll defend Face Value until my dying breath, and it may even absolve him for his future sins…or at least give him fewer Hail Marys to say.
LISTEN: