Genesis
A trick of the tail

THE REVIEW

February 1976: flocks of specialized journalists, dark as birds of ill omen, were announcing the impending end of Genesis starting with this album. After all, a certain Peter Gabriel had left the group, if you catch my drift... In hindsight, almost thirty years later, we can say that the gravediggers of Genesis would have to stretch their necks for many more years, and not only thanks to the infamous "Phil Collins' tunes," which kept the prestigious brand alive, albeit slightly hollowed, during the '80s, but rather thanks to the presence among the survivors of two serious musicians, albeit not very charismatic, like Tony Banks and Steve Hackett.
Phil Collins, still far from imposing his "easy listening" style, deserves great credit for having provided the solution to what seemed the most insoluble problem: and now who sings? With hindsight, one might think: how did they not realize that they had a more "Gabriel-esque" voice than Peter Gabriel's right at home? (Moreover, Phil already had some minor vocal precedents). Be that as it may, the most natural solution was then implemented in "A Trick of the Tail," which, from the melody inventiveness perspective, keeps Genesis on those levels of overflowing, at times almost baroque, fantasy that had enchanted in the early '70s. If anything, it's the lyrics that lose a bit of their surreal charm, and this is where Peter Gabriel's absence is felt. But the unexpected lurks, and Mike Rutherford, who is somewhat the "handyman" of the group, somehow invents the "Squonk," a little creature that constantly cries over its ugliness and is perpetually pursued by hunters, but when they catch up to it, it dissolves into tears. Stuff worthy of the best Gabriel-style tales.

"Squonk" is decidedly the most rock piece, with a great Phil Collins on drums; other fast tracks, with a slightly more complex rhythm, include "Robbery Assault and Battery," with Banks showcasing two stunning synthesizer solos, and "Dance on a Volcano," with a gripping finale so modern it hardly seems like '76 material. But the core consists of compositions of great sweetness, like "Entangled," a triumph of acoustic guitars gradually giving way to a powerful "choral" finale (it's Tony Banks’ mellotron performing these magic tricks).
Beautiful and with a sadness I dare say Tchaikovskian is "Mad Man Moon," a typical Banks composition, with a subdued beginning, symphonic central bridge, and reprise of the initial theme. A similar structure also characterizes "Ripples," with an unusually catchy (for Genesis) chorus; however, it's the instrumental central bridge that gives chills. Also excellent is "A Trick of the Tail," a ballad a bit less acoustic than the previous ones. The Genesis habit of making a sort of final summary of the main motifs is also inaugurated. Here, "Los Endos" serves as an instrumental collage of themes drawn from "Dance on a Volcano" and "Squonk," connected by a tight and compelling rhythmic connector (Phil Collins shines in this setting).
It's difficult if not impossible to find a weak spot: the Genesis funeral is postponed indefinitely.