I first heard Genesis in the late 70s. Never understood their rampant inventiveness, which I mistook for overt pomposity at the time of punk. Rookie mistake. I encountered them again and again in the 80s, hating what they did to soul classics. “Peter Gabriel isn’t Phil Collins,” I was admonished. “Go and listen to The Lamb.” Yeah, but Gabriel sounds like Collins, I would retort. Oops.
Forty years later, The Lamb, Genesis’s sixth studio album and their last with original lead vocalist Gabriel, is magnificent – deranged and spooky and full of unexpected songs about sexual peccadillos, the sound of milk bottles clanking, screeching and moments of unashamed beauty (c.f. Carpet Crawlers). Of course, initially it failed to sell as much as its predecessors, and even now former members of Genesis are divided as to its worth. “Ask Peter – I’m just the drummer,” Collins shrugged when asked about its content. “A brave but flawed experiment,” was another view. Not so!
