POP MUSIC REVIEW
GENESIS: A CONFUSED EVENING

It's not easy satisfying everyone, but that's the job Genesis has set for itself lately. Old fashioned art-rock grandeur, streamlined new-wavish rock, biting funk horns - they've all made appearances on the band's recent albums, which are played regularly on radio stations as diverse as KMET and KROQ.

But put those styles side by side in the same show and you've got a schizophrenic, confusing evening, which is precisely what Genesis delivered at the Forum on Monday.

While just about every one of the early 1970s art-rock bands was becoming antiquated, Genesis managed the remarkable feat of not only surviving a series of personnel changes, but also adapting its music enough to remain viable.

For the past two years, especially, the band has found a more minimal and less overblown style while adding subtle touches of mainstream funk. If the result hardly qualifies the group for rock's cutting edge, it does show that these old-timers know how to age without stagnating.

In doing so, the band also has found itself with a whole new audience, one attracted by the short tunes from, say, "Abacab." For this crowd, a tune such as 1978's "Follow You, Follow Me" is an oldie; the band's days with singer Peter Gabriel are too distant to recall.

These days, Genesis is out to please both newcomers and its original fans, but it does so with a set that is formulized in a way the band's recent albums have refused to be. Drummer/singer Phil Collins, guitarist Mike Rutherford and keyboardist Tony Banks are all distinguished instrumentalists - and their sidemen, drummer Chester Thompson and guitarist Daryl Steurmer, are better that that - but they've come to rely on the same set pieces, the same stories, the same mugging from Collins, the same blankets of stage fog.

Monday's show was a standard 2 1/2-hour Genesis set - a series of roughly half-hour segments covering different sides of the band's repertory. It started with relatively recent material such as "Behind the Lines" and "Follow You" (mostly pretty good); moved into the 10-year-old epic "Supper's Ready" (dated in a way it wasn't in previous performances); switched gears to bring out the Earth, Wind & Fire horn section and run through some funky new material (a bright, welcome change).

But the use of the EWF horns (longtime favorites of Collins) underscored the rift in Genesis' current audience. Though the funkier context coaxed the night's best, most adventurous vocals out of Collins, the audience responded more enthusiastically to the older favorites that the more Gothically inclined diehards were awaiting.

Those fans wanted the old Genesis standby: some grandeur. And they got lots of it, though it was muffled by the unexpectedly muddy sound system. Particularly persuasive was a medley that began with 1975's "In the Cage," ran through some bracing instrumental snippets and ended with the impossibly lush "Afterglow" to the accompaniment of some lavish smoke and lighting effects that, for once, seemed entirely apppropriate.

But even though moments like that were undeniably affecting - and even though the best new material suggested that Genesis is still capable of holding its own in 1982 - the overall feeling was that this band is stuck at a crossroads. It can commit itself to the newer material or stick with an evening of one from Column A, one from Column B. If it persists in the second option, it had better resign itself to the fact that few people will head home completely satisfied.

Transcribed for The Path by Joe Harden

Joe's story:

Abacab/Three Sides Live Tour 1982

I almost didn't go to the '82 Genesis concert. Unlike my earlier failed attempts in '73, '74, and '75, this time around it was going to be by choice. It wasn't because I didn't like the changes in Genesis' music. I did. In fact, I not only loved "Abacab," but I think I am safe in claiming that I was the only person in this corner of the Milky Way who liked "Whodunnit." But when Genesis returned to Los Angeles in 1982, I was caught up in the ridiculous notion that concerts were too juvenile, and I needed to be more adult. After all, I was now twenty-five. Oh sure, deep down inside I knew that I wanted to witness Genesis perform some of the new songs like "Me And Sarah Jane" and "Keep it Dark," as well as have another go at some of the older favorites. But it was time, I decided, to grow up. Adults weren't supposed to have fun.

I fought the urge to make a run to the Forum box office as the day of ticket sales rolled around. Later, I tried not to listen too closely when local radio stations promoted the concert. I even convinced myself that I had made the right, adult decision when, a few weeks before the concert, the 7-11 convenience store chain offered promotional Genesis posters with the purchase of a Big Gulp. Kid's stuff, I thought smugly, checking my refrigerator to see if I needed anything from my own local 7-11. But when concert day arrived, I couldn't stop thinking about what I was about to miss. I called the Forum, strictly out of curiosity I told myself, to see if there were still seats available. Surprisingly, there were. The Forum had opened up an additional section above and behind the stage. If I hurried, I could still get tickets. Sitting in my living room with "Three Sides Live" blasting from my stereo, I struggled to make a decision. Should I go or should I stay. It was about two minutes into the live version of Dodo/Lurker that I finally came to my senses. "To hell with being an adult," I decided, jumping in my car and racing off to the Forum.

That night, I realized that I had made the right decision. Even though my seat was behind the stage, it was actually very close. I could clearly see the balding spot on the top of dear old Mr. Collins' head. And he occasionally even turned around to acknowledge our little group. The important thing, though, was that the music was just as good from my vantage point. The old songs, as well as the new songs were fantastic. I especially got a kick out of "Whodunnit" when the band members switched instruments while the stage went briefly dark. And "Me and Sarah Jane" and "Abacab" sounded better live than on record. I was somewhat dissapointed, though, that they didn't play "Keep it Dark." Aside from the songs, though, the thing I remember most fondly about the concert was watching Phil's very young son Simon, just off stage but visible from my seat, dancing happily throughout the entire concert. Watching him made me realize that, even though I was growing older, I never wanted to lose the ability to have fun.

Joe Harden

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