Genesis (band)

Based on Wikipedia: Genesis (band)

The Schoolboys Who Became Rock Legends

Five teenagers at an elite English boarding school formed a band in 1967. Within two decades, they would sell over a hundred million records and help invent an entirely new genre of music. But Genesis almost never made it past their first album, which was so poorly marketed that record stores filed it in the religious music section.

This is a story about reinvention. Genesis transformed themselves so completely—not once, but several times—that fans of their early work barely recognize their later hits, and vice versa. The band that gave us the theatrical, costume-laden progressive rock of the 1970s is the same band that produced the slick pop anthems of the 1980s. How one group could contain such multitudes is one of rock music's more fascinating puzzles.

Charterhouse: Where It All Began

Charterhouse is a public school in Godalming, Surrey. In the British sense, "public school" means a private, fee-paying institution for the children of the wealthy—the opposite of what Americans mean by the term. Founded in 1611, it has educated everyone from John Wesley to Peter Gabriel.

Tony Banks arrived at Charterhouse in September 1963. Peter Gabriel came the same month. Mike Rutherford followed a year later, and Anthony Phillips—known to everyone as "Ant"—joined in April 1965. The school had two notable bands at the time: Anon, which included Phillips and Rutherford, and Garden Wall, featuring Gabriel, Banks, and drummer Chris Stewart.

When both bands dissolved in early 1967, the five musicians decided to pool their talents. They recorded six songs on a homemade demo tape at a friend's studio, including an instrumental called "Patricia" and tracks with titles like "Don't Want You Back" and "She's Beautiful." The sound was earnest, amateurish, and utterly unremarkable.

What happened next would shape the band's entire future.

Jonathan King and the Curse of Good Intentions

Jonathan King was a Charterhouse alumnus who had scored a major hit in 1965 with "Everyone's Gone to the Moon." He was only twenty-one years old, but he already fancied himself a pop impresario. When a friend slipped him the demo tape, King heard potential. He signed the teenagers—aged fifteen to seventeen—to a one-year contract with Decca Records.

King's involvement was both blessing and curse.

The blessing: he got them into a professional studio and onto a major label. The curse: he wanted them to write straightforward pop songs, not the longer, more complex pieces they were beginning to explore. When Banks and Gabriel pushed back, King suggested they write something that sounded like the Bee Gees, one of his favorite acts. The result was "The Silent Sun," a deliberate pastiche that the band members would later regard with embarrassment.

King also gave them their name. The musicians had tossed around various options, including the cringe-worthy "Gabriel's Angels." King suggested "Genesis," partly as a biblical reference but also because it marked the genesis—the beginning—of his career as a producer. The band agreed, perhaps not realizing they would spend the next fifty years answering questions about whether they were a Christian rock group.

"The Silent Sun" got some airplay on BBC Radio One and the pirate station Radio Caroline, but it didn't sell. Neither did the follow-up single. Stewart left to focus on his studies and was replaced by another Charterhouse student, John Silver.

From Genesis to Revelation: The Album Nobody Bought

King believed that albums, not singles, were where the real money lay. He booked ten days at Regent Sound Studios during the school's summer break in August 1968, and the band recorded what would become their debut: From Genesis to Revelation.

King assembled the tracks as a concept album, which was fashionable at the time. He also hired Arthur Greenslade to add orchestral arrangements—strings, brass, the works. The band knew nothing about these additions until they heard the finished product. Anthony Phillips was furious. The lush orchestrations smothered their guitars and keyboards, turning their rock songs into something closer to easy listening.

Then came the album cover disaster.

An American band already had the name Genesis. King refused to change his group's name, but he agreed to a compromise: the word "Genesis" would simply not appear on the album cover. Instead, the jacket featured nothing but the title—From Genesis to Revelation—printed on a plain black background.

When the album reached record shops in March 1969, clerks had no idea what to do with it. The biblical title, combined with the austere cover, made it look like a religious recording. Shops filed it in the religious music section, where rock fans never thought to look.

Tony Banks later recalled that "after a year or so," the album had sold exactly 649 copies.

The failure ended their relationship with Jonathan King and Decca Records. King retained the rights to the album, which he would reissue numerous times over the following decades, eventually reaching number 170 on the American charts in 1974—five years after its original release and only because the band had become famous for completely different music.

The Cottage in Wotton

After the album flopped, the band members scattered. Gabriel and Phillips stayed at Charterhouse to finish their exams. Banks enrolled at Sussex University. Rutherford studied at Farnborough College of Technology. For a year, Genesis existed in name only.

They regrouped in mid-1969 to discuss whether to continue. Phillips and Rutherford had been writing more complex material, music that had nothing to do with Bee Gees pastiches or Jonathan King's commercial instincts. Banks and Gabriel decided to commit as well. The four of them recruited Silver once more and recorded new demos in August 1969.

Every label rejected them.

Silver then left for America to study leisure management. His replacement, John Mayhew, was a drummer and carpenter who had left his phone number "with people all over London" looking for work. He was older than the others, came from a working-class background, and never quite fit in with the public-school boys.

In late 1969, the band retreated to a cottage owned by the parents of their friend Richard Macphail, in the village of Wotton, Surrey. There, away from the world, they practiced for up to eleven hours a day. They wrote new material, rehearsed relentlessly, and developed what would become their signature sound: lengthy compositions with multiple sections, unexpected time signature changes, and lyrics that veered toward the fantastical and surreal.

Their first gig as this new version of Genesis was a teenager's birthday party in September 1969.

Tony Stratton Smith Takes a Chance

The band spent months playing small venues across the United Kingdom, building a following one gig at a time. They performed on the BBC's Night Ride program in February 1970 and appeared at the Atomic Sunrise Festival at the Roundhouse in London a month later. They met with record labels, but the conversations went nowhere.

Everything changed during a six-week residency at Ronnie Scott's Jazz Club in Soho.

Ronnie Scott's is famous as a jazz venue, but in 1970 it was experimenting with rock acts on Tuesday nights. Genesis had previously opened for a band called Rare Bird, whose members now recommended them to John Anthony, a producer and talent scout for Charisma Records. Anthony attended one of the Tuesday shows and was impressed enough to drag his boss, label founder Tony Stratton Smith, to the next performance.

Stratton Smith saw something the other labels had missed. "Their potential was immediately apparent," he later said. "The material was good and their performance was good. It was a long shot, because they needed time to find their strength, but I was prepared to make that commitment."

Within two weeks, Genesis had a record deal and a management contract. Their initial payment: ten pounds per week. Adjusted for inflation, that's roughly two hundred pounds in today's money—barely enough to cover expenses, but enough to keep them going.

Trespass and the Departure of Anthony Phillips

The band stayed at the Wotton cottage until April 1970, writing enough material for what would become their second album, Trespass. Recording began in June at Trident Studios in London, with John Anthony producing and a young David Hentschel working as assistant engineer. Hentschel would later become a major producer in his own right, working with everyone from Elton John to Pete Townshend.

Trespass was a different beast entirely from their debut. Gone were the orchestral arrangements and pop song structures. In their place were longer, more complex compositions that blended folk influences with the emerging sound of progressive rock. The centerpiece was "The Knife," a nine-minute epic featuring abrupt time signature changes and an intensity that bordered on violent.

The album cover was designed by Paul Whitehead, who had completed his painting before the band decided to include "The Knife." Feeling the pastoral artwork no longer reflected the album's mood, they convinced Whitehead to slash a knife across the canvas. The resulting image—a ruined painting with a gash across its surface—became the cover.

Released in October 1970, Trespass reached number one in Belgium but made little impact elsewhere. Rolling Stone dismissed it as "spotty, poorly defined, at times innately boring." Gabriel was so discouraged that he applied to the London School of Film Technique. "Genesis seemed to be dying a death around our second album," he told an interviewer. "We couldn't get arrested."

Then Anthony Phillips quit.

The End of the Original Line-Up

Phillips left Genesis after the album was recorded, his final show taking place in Haywards Heath on July 18, 1970. The reasons were multiple and overlapping. He had contracted bronchial pneumonia. He was developing severe stage fright that made performing increasingly difficult. He felt the constant gigging was damaging the band's creativity. And he believed there were simply too many songwriters competing for space.

Banks, Gabriel, and Rutherford were devastated. Phillips had been the most instrumental in convincing them to turn professional in the first place. They regarded his departure as the greatest threat the band had faced—far more serious than the failed debut album or the label rejections.

Gabriel and Rutherford wanted to continue regardless. Banks agreed, but only on one condition: they had to find a new drummer who could match the talent level of the remaining members. John Mayhew, the carpenter who had never quite fit in, was therefore fired. Phillips later speculated that Mayhew's working-class background had clashed with the others, affecting his confidence and ultimately his position in the band.

Genesis was now down to three members, with no guitarist and no drummer.

Enter Phil Collins

The band placed advertisements in Melody Maker seeking new musicians. Among those who responded was a twenty-year-old drummer named Phil Collins.

Collins had previously played with a band called Flaming Youth, which had released a concept album to modest attention before dissolving. He knew little about Genesis except that "they seemed to be constantly working." For a young drummer looking for steady gigs, that was recommendation enough.

Interestingly, Roger Taylor—who would later achieve fame with Queen—also received an invitation to audition. He turned it down.

Collins arrived at Peter Gabriel's parents' house in Chobham, Surrey, with his Flaming Youth bandmate Ronnie Caryl, who was auditioning for the guitarist position. They arrived early. Collins took a swim in the family pool while listening to the other drummers audition through the open windows.

When his turn came, he sat down at the kit and played along to Trespass. "My initial impression was of very soft and round music, not edgy, with vocal harmonies," he recalled. "I came away thinking Crosby, Stills and Nash."

Gabriel and Rutherford noticed immediately how confidently Collins approached the drums, how naturally he settled behind the kit. Banks was equally impressed: "It was a combination of things. He could make it swing a little bit. He could also tell good jokes and make us laugh. And he could sing, which was an advantage because Mike and I were not very good at back-up vocals."

In August 1970, Phil Collins became the new drummer for Genesis. Ronnie Caryl's audition was less successful—Rutherford didn't think he was the right fit.

Finding Their Sound as a Four-Piece

Without a guitarist, Genesis had to adapt. The empty spaces where Anthony Phillips's guitar had been actually opened new possibilities. Banks expanded his keyboard parts to fill the gaps, running a Pianet—an electromechanical keyboard similar to a Wurlitzer—through a distorted fuzz box to create sounds that resembled distorted guitar. He credits this period with helping him develop his distinctive keyboard technique. Meanwhile, Rutherford added bass pedals to his setup, allowing him to play bass lines with his feet while his hands were free for other instruments.

They rehearsed as a four-piece in Farnham, Surrey, writing and arranging new material. In November 1970, after a second audition with Ronnie Caryl went nowhere, a club owner named Dave Stopps suggested they try Mick Barnard, guitarist of a band called The Farm. Barnard joined for a run of gigs that included Genesis's television debut on the BBC program Disco 2.

After two months, it became clear that Barnard wasn't working out. The band thought he lacked the expertise their increasingly complex music required.

Then Peter Gabriel spotted an advertisement in Melody Maker.

Steve Hackett: Receptive Musicians Wanted

The ad was placed by Steve Hackett, formerly of a band called Quiet World. It read like a manifesto: he was seeking "receptive musicians, determined to drive beyond existing stagnant music forms."

Gabriel advised Hackett to familiarize himself with Trespass and attend an upcoming Genesis show at the Lyceum Theatre in London. Hackett did both. He then auditioned with the group in a flat in Earl's Court, where he and Rutherford discovered a shared fascination with inverted chords—chord voicings where a note other than the root is in the bass position, creating unexpected harmonic colors.

Hackett joined in January 1971. The classic Genesis line-up was finally complete: Gabriel on vocals, Banks on keyboards, Hackett on guitar, Rutherford on bass and guitar, and Collins on drums.

Tony Stratton Smith organized a UK tour with Genesis opening for two other Charisma acts: Lindisfarne, who would soon have hits with "Meet Me on the Corner" and "Lady Eleanor," and Van der Graaf Generator, one of the most uncompromising bands in progressive rock. The tour was followed by the band's first overseas dates in Belgium and their first appearance at the Reading Festival in June 1971.

Nursery Cryme and the Birth of Theatrical Rock

Rehearsals for the third album, Nursery Cryme, took place at Luxford House near Crowborough in East Sussex, a property owned by Stratton Smith. The sessions then moved to Trident Studios, with John Anthony returning as producer and David Hentschel as engineer.

The band's sound had evolved considerably. Hackett brought a more aggressive edge to the guitar parts, while Collins provided a rhythmic sophistication that Mayhew had lacked. The songs grew longer and more intricate, with sudden shifts in tempo, mood, and dynamics. Tracks like "The Musical Box" and "The Return of the Giant Hogweed" demonstrated a willingness to embrace the absurd and the theatrical.

This theatricality would become Gabriel's signature. As the band's reputation grew, his stage performances became increasingly elaborate. He began wearing costumes during songs—a fox's head, a flower mask, a cape and helmet that made him look like something from a fever dream. These weren't mere gimmicks. They transformed Genesis concerts into something closer to ritual than rock show, creating an atmosphere of mystery and strangeness that set them apart from every other band in progressive rock.

It was working. Foxtrot, released in 1972, became their first charting album in the UK. Selling England by the Pound, released in 1973, reached number three and spawned their first UK hit single: "I Know What I Like (In Your Wardrobe)," a relatively accessible track built around a memorable guitar riff and a chorus that lodged in the brain.

The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway

In 1974, Genesis released their most ambitious project yet: The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway, a double concept album telling the surreal story of a Puerto Rican youth named Rael wandering through a nightmarish version of New York City. The lyrics, written almost entirely by Gabriel, drew from dreams, mythology, and the urban landscape of early 1970s America.

The album divided critics and fans. Some considered it a masterpiece, a high-water mark of progressive rock ambition. Others found it bloated, pretentious, and impenetrable. The touring production was equally polarizing: an elaborate stage show featuring slides, backdrops, and Gabriel in an ever-more-bizarre array of costumes, including a "Slipperman" outfit that made him look like a mutant creature covered in tumorous growths.

The tour was grueling. Gabriel was simultaneously trying to write the album's lyrics while on the road, leaving him exhausted and increasingly at odds with his bandmates. Tensions rose. By the time the tour ended, Gabriel had made a decision.

He was leaving Genesis.

The Collins Era Begins

When Peter Gabriel departed in 1975, most observers expected Genesis to collapse. Gabriel had been the band's visual identity, the front man whose theatrical performances defined their live shows. Without him, what was left?

The answer surprised everyone, including the band themselves.

After auditioning over four hundred potential replacements, Genesis made an unexpected choice: they would promote from within. Phil Collins, who had been handling backup vocals all along, would become the lead singer while continuing to drum. On songs where Collins needed to move to the front of the stage, they would bring in a second drummer.

Their first post-Gabriel album, A Trick of the Tail, released in 1976, proved the skeptics wrong. Critics praised it as one of the band's strongest works, and it reached number three in the UK—matching their previous high with Selling England by the Pound. A second album that same year, Wind & Wuthering, performed equally well.

Collins turned out to be a more than capable front man. He brought a different energy than Gabriel—less mysterious, more accessible, with a gift for connecting with audiences through humor and warmth. The theatrical costumes disappeared, replaced by Collins's natural charisma.

Then Steve Hackett left.

Three Men and Their Machines

Hackett's departure in 1977 reduced Genesis to a trio: Banks, Rutherford, and Collins. Rather than recruit another guitarist, they decided to continue as three, using session musicians for tours and studio overdubs. The album commemorating this transition had a self-aware title: ...And Then There Were Three...

Released in 1978, it contained something Genesis had never had before: a genuine crossover hit. "Follow You Follow Me" was a love ballad, simple and direct, with none of the progressive rock complexity that had characterized their earlier work. It reached number seven in the UK and cracked the top thirty in America.

The transformation had begun.

Over the next decade, Genesis would release five more studio albums: Duke (1980), Abacab (1981), Genesis (1983), Invisible Touch (1986), and We Can't Dance (1991). Each moved further from their progressive rock origins toward a polished, synthesizer-driven pop sound that dominated radio in the 1980s.

"Invisible Touch" became their biggest hit, reaching number one in America. "Land of Confusion," with its music video featuring grotesque puppet caricatures of political figures created by the satirical television show Spitting Image, won a Grammy Award for Best Concept Music Video. "Tonight, Tonight, Tonight" and "In Too Deep" were ubiquitous on MTV and adult contemporary radio.

For fans of 1970s Genesis, this was either a betrayal or an evolution, depending on who you asked. For millions of new listeners who had never heard of The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway, it was simply great pop music.

The Final Chapter

Phil Collins left Genesis in 1996, citing the demands of his solo career—which had, by then, eclipsed the band's success. His replacement was Ray Wilson, a Scottish singer who had previously fronted the band Stiltskin. Wilson appeared on what would become Genesis's final studio album, Calling All Stations, released in 1997.

The album was a commercial disappointment, particularly in America, where it failed to chart. Critics were mixed. Without Collins's familiar voice, the album struggled to find an audience. A planned American tour was cancelled due to poor ticket sales.

Genesis quietly disbanded.

But rock bands rarely stay dead. In 2007, Banks, Rutherford, and Collins reunited for the Turn It On Again Tour, playing stadiums across Europe and North America. The tour was a massive success, grossing over $160 million.

Then, in 2021, they came together one more time for The Last Domino? Tour. Collins, now seventy years old and suffering from nerve damage that prevented him from drumming, sat on a stool while his son Nic—a professional drummer in his own right—played the drum parts. The tour was presented as a definitive farewell.

The Legacy

Genesis sold somewhere between one hundred million and one hundred fifty million albums worldwide—the imprecision in that number reflecting the chaos of pre-digital record-keeping. Their discography includes fifteen studio albums and six live albums. They were inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2010.

Their influence is harder to quantify. They helped define progressive rock in the 1970s, pushing the boundaries of what rock music could attempt. Then, by successfully transitioning to pop in the 1980s, they demonstrated that artistic evolution didn't have to mean commercial death. Numerous tribute bands continue to recreate Genesis shows from various eras, some focusing on the Gabriel years, others on the Collins period, a few attempting to cover the entire span.

What makes Genesis unusual is that they managed to be two entirely different bands over the course of their career—and both versions were wildly successful. The theatrical progressive rock act of the early 1970s shared little with the slick pop outfit of the late 1980s except for two common members: Tony Banks and Mike Rutherford, who remained from beginning to end, the connective tissue holding together half a century of music.

They started as five schoolboys making demos on borrowed equipment, dismissed by record labels and filed in the wrong section of record stores. They ended as arena-filling rock legends, one of the best-selling acts in music history.

Not bad for a band named after a book of the Bible.