I think the pandemic has driven us all toward weird forms of comfort. Last summer baking supplies were hard to find; Netflix and Disney+ subscriptions have skyrocketed; people are taking on hobbies, learning languages, and getting in shape.
My route to my ultimate quarantine comfort – Phil Collins – started last spring when all the gyms closed. I had to do something to keep from gaining weight, so I decided that running would be a viable, cheap option.
Quickly after starting this new hobby, I discovered I hated it. I used to enjoy running, but for some reason, I now fully believe getting an appendectomy would be better than a 3-mile run. It's boring! And, while in the gym with weights, I can see change and progress, with running… you just… run… and your reward is being able to run more… What kind of terrible cycle is that? (I realize with lifting you are just able to lift more, but—blame it on my internalized toxic masculinity—that is way cooler.)
As part of this I-Hate-Running-But-I-Don't-Want-To-Gain-100-Pounds-In-Quarantine running regimen (watch for my feature article in Men's Health next month), I tried to find ways to make it better.
Initially, I thought about listening to podcasts as I ran. If you know me, you'll know the only thing I hate more than running and tapas restaurants, is podcasts. Why I believed that the fusion of two things I really don't enjoy would be a match made in heaven… I don't know.
To be fair, the Podcast Experiment started out great because I had a few podcasts I had to catch up on that my friends were on. But after listening to those and starting to listen to strangers whisper in my head, I was more than over it.
When I did enjoy running back in my heyday, music was always a big part of it. After the failed podcast endeavor, I started building playlists to see if that would bring up my motivation. The thing was, while I am working from home, I have headphones on and music playing most of the day. When I started running, it didn't feel like a "break" to put on tunes and jog around the block. I was getting desperate because my couch was getting more and more shaped like my bum and my runs were getting shorter and shorter. I needed SOMETHING to get excited about in relation to running, something to get me off the couch and my legs from fully atrophying.
Then one day, I was on one of my dozens of Spotify playlists and Phil Collin's "Something Happened on the Way to Heaven" came on.
Endorphins flooded my brain.
My toe started tapping.
I started singing along.
THIS.
THIS is what I needed to get me through my runs.
To understand my love of the Collinator, you have to know that when I was young, we didn't have a lot of music in the house. My brothers would listen to their music – grunge and rap in the 90's – and my dad would listen to Oldies in the car, but we weren't a music family.
When my mom got married to my stepdad, he was an adult contemporary connoisseur. We'd go to Colorado in the summer and winter, and he would always get some random greatest hits CDs to listen to: Enya, Journey, Winona Judd, and, of course, Phil. (The whole Enya situation might require a different post. Her special brand of zen-folky music almost sent my mother over the edge.)
I don't know what it is about Phil, but we connected. I would actually stop reading books on the 16-hour ride and just sit and listen to the Phil compilation when it came on our CD changer loop (remember those?). It was like there was a moment of drum machines, synths, and 80's soft rock and he SEIZED it. Then when the late-90s needed him for the Tarzan soundtrack, he ROSE to the occasion. Phil does not let you down. There are a pair of YouTube teens who review music, and they were stunned by Phil when they discovered him this past year, and I just have to say, "SO SAME."
Once the running-Phil gates were opened, I was jumping into his back catalog and feeling all my feelings.
“Take Me Home”
“Against All Odds”
“In the Air Tonight”
“You Can't Hurry Love”
“Sussudio”
“I Wish It Would Rain Down”
I honestly think Phil Collins felt all the feelings an average white guy could feel and then gave us synth tracks to process our emotions. It's better than therapy.
Because this was 2020 and the era of big data, somehow my entire online persona also got fixated around Phil. Every day I had a dedicated section of my Google newsfeed that was connected to Phil or former members of Genesis (his old band).
And, in case your online persona hasn't also been force-fed details about Phil Collins’ personal life, he has been GOING THROUGH IT in 2020. One of the headlines that came through my newsfeed was “Phil Collins’ son blasts third wife who said the drummer stank and was impotent.”
Woof. Poor Phil.
I also got dedicated articles about jollier things, like his number 1 hits and updates about his collection of artifacts from the Battle of the Alamo… You do you, Phil… Phil is just having a year like the rest of us. And I'm hoping it means we're going to get a fire album post-pandemic.
Even if he doesn't, he could adapt a few oldies for this new era. “In the Air Tonight” is screaming for a remake about droplets.
I wish I had some sort of takeaway from this meandering entry, but I think it can be condensed to 2 things:
Phil Collins is bomb.com.
Check up on your not-as-popular celebrity friends, they may need your help when their ex calls them smelly and impotent.
And maybe a 3rd thing: Don't send me a podcast.