No. 676 – Jesus He Knows Me

Performer: Genesis

Songwriters: Tony Banks, Phil Collins, Mike Rutherford

Original Release: We Can’t Dance

Year: 1991

Definitive Version: None

When I went to see Genesis at Ohio Stadium in the summer of 1992, I was with Scott, Jin and one of Scott’s friends. I drove down the day of the show from Flint, and apparently I didn’t get the memo that we were all going to wear suit jackets even if it were 100 degrees out. I instead wore my Journal softball jersey—far more practical. Jin voiced her disappointment loudly.

My disappointment was over our seats. We were a mile from the stage in the upper deck. Scott wasn’t able to pull off the good seats this time, alas.

As I mentioned, seeing anyone at Ohio Stadium was a big deal, and it was cool to be there and not have to listen to the grousing of Ohio State’s crummy football fans—all of whom are smarter than the guy actually coaching, no matter his record, I should point out.

But ultimately, it wasn’t one my favorite of concerts, largely because We Can’t Dance wasn’t one of my favorite albums. But I also didn’t like Genesis’ new stage and lighting effects. It was the first time they had really changed things up since 1982, and I suppose it was meant more for the stadiums that Genesis now was playing instead of the arenas they used to play. It was huge.

Genesis used the same lighting and stage on their reunion tour in 2007, and it struck me as bland, confusing and difficult to see the guys in the band. This was mostly because the massive video screen was too low and close to stage level, so the silhouettes of the band were all over the screen, which distracted from the video.

The setlist, of course, skewed recent, so the highlight of the night was a medley of old tunes, which featured Dance on a Volcano and I Know What I Like live for the first time since the Seventies. That was cool.

This song was another highlight. It featured a long intro by Phil where he says he has to raise $80 million by the end of the song for Je-zus. (The song, of course, is a parody of all the televangelists of the late 80s.) So, the song’s going along and every so often, they flashed a number on screen with numbers rapidly mounting. Finally in the end, Phil reaches his goal, and at the final singing of the chorus, a huge halo over Phil is flashed on the screen. It was pretty funny.

And with that, I closed the book on what was unquestionably my favorite band of the Eighties. I still loved the music, but the band was moving on. Meanwhile, I had just found this band called Pearl Jam. One book closed and another opened.