Published on Dec 21, 1998
Back in 1991, I started a music reviews page for the college
newspaper I wrote for. I was the features editor, and was eager to
express myself after leaving radio in a nasty set of circumstances.
(Just wait until one day I write my tell-all autobiography… I
could get one asshole fired from that school easily.)
I still remember that the first album we featured was Genesis’s
We Can’t Dance, which had just hit the streets around the
time of our first issue. If I only knew then that this — the first
studio album from the British trio in five years — would be the
last outing with vocalist/drummer Phil Collins.
It’s still not entirely clear to me why Collins decided to leave
Genesis, but what is undeniable is that the songs contained on this
disc were some of the most challenging the band had written in a
long time. And while it wasn’t a complete return to their glory
days, it was most definitely a step in the right direction.
The leadoff track and single, “No Son Of Mine,” dealt with a
surprisingly dark subject for the band — child sexual abuse and
the scars it leaves — but it also showed Collins, guitarist Mike
Rutherford and keyboardist Tony Banks returning to a more natural
sound. Collins wisely abandoned the electronic drums that were so
overused on
Invisible Touch and started using a real drum kit again. On
this one song alone, the difference is refreshing. Surprisingly
poppy for such a dark song, “No Son Of Mine” was Genesis returning
to the form that made them pop stars in the early ’80s.
Of the other singles from this album, “Hold On My Heart” and
“Never A Time” are sappy, but pretty, ballads that tended to show
the weaker side of the band, especially when they relied too much
on them. Of the two, I prefer “Never A Time” the most; this is the
hit that wasn’t for the band. “I Can’t Dance” is a goofy number
that features Genesis mocking themselves for being un-hip. (Best
line from this song: “Ooh, she’s got a body under that shirt” —
dirty old man alert!) If you ever get a chance to view the video,
watch it; it’s hysterical.
“Jesus He Knows Me” is a slap in the face against television
evangelists who are more concerned about fleecing their flocks than
shepherding them, and contains some very sharp jabs against the
more hypocritical ones. While this song did get featured on
The Way We Walk Volume One: The Shorts, this is a track that
also woulda, coulda, shoulda been a hit single.
But the highlight of
We Can’t Dance is the ten-minute “Driving The Last Spike,” a
powerful epic of laborers building England’s railways. If you want
to talk about Genesis being a progressive rock band, this is easily
the most powerful marriage between the two styles that this band
has ever done – and the time flies by quickly.
The whole first half of
We Can’t Dance is powerful and solid, but the second half
falters a bit. Tracks like “Tell Me Why” are still good, but
numbers like “Way Of The World” and “Since I Lost You” do not live
up to the potential that the rest of the album commandeered.
“Fading Lights” is another attempt to create an epic like “Driving
The Last Spike,” but it falls short of the mark.
Still, a more natural feel to this album is what sets it apart
from some of Genesis’s ’80s work (especially
Invisible Touch, which I thought was good, but sterile), and
stands as a powerful swansong to Collins’s studio time with the
band. This album does not get nearly the attention from radio that
some of their older works do, but it’s worth digging this one out,
dusting it off, and playing it full volume. For nearly
three-fourths of the way,
We Can’t Dance does almost no wrong — and that’s not a bad
track record. But watch out near the end, when it develops two left
feet.