Genesis
From Genesis To Revelation

There are flops that, in the long run, prove to be a true blessing. Let's try to go back to 1969, the release of this "From Genesis To Revelation" and imagine a debut with a bang, like "Led Zeppelin I" or "In The Court Of Crimson King", just to give two examples from the same year of grace. Probably, the name Genesis would not have become synonymous with progressive rock in its most perfect form, complex suites rich in imaginative melodic themes, but would have remained linked to easy-listening pop, perhaps classy, but still blatantly commercial. Ironically, that’s precisely what Genesis would produce more or less starting from the '80s, with the definitive imposition of Phil Collins' song-oriented shift, who wasn’t even part of the original core.

Fortunately, at the time this album was purchased by only a few close friends, probably friends and family members of the very young Genesis, still fresh out of school, and today it constitutes a kind of curiosity for fans of this historic group, a bit like the compositions of child Mozart for Mozart enthusiasts (and I belong to both categories). Its value is therefore little more than emotional: listening to the 13 short songs (extended to 19 in the CD with other material from those times) gives a sense of tenderness, but extreme immaturity is also evident, and that’s obvious, given that Peter Gabriel, Tony Banks, Mike Rutherford, and Anthony Phillips were, more or less, 18 years old, an age where anyone is allowed mistakes (for example, De André at that age was mimicking Modugno with "Nuvole barocche"). Yet some signs of future class emerge: first of all, the voice of Peter Gabriel, which is practically already there, with that perfect balance between velvety and metallic that we know. Occasionally, the already crystal-clear technique of classically trained pianist Tony Banks manages to make its way through, but for the instrumentalists, the matter becomes tougher, and here the culprit has a name and surname: Jonathan King, producer of this album. While he had the merit of betting on this “Genesis embryo,” he also wanted to heavily influence its development, and he did so by overwhelming every possible personal inspiration of these already rather talented young boys with heavy orchestral arrangements, with the classic layer of violins smothering and blending almost every attempt at originality. It's no coincidence that it's especially the short interludes between one track and another, when the strings finally fall silent, that give us a vague idea of how this band sounded in formation.

It's hard to find a standout track, although there are some with undeniably pleasant tunes ("The Silent Sun," "That's Me," "Am I Very Wrong?," "Window") but a bit too simplistic to credibly carry the Genesis signature. In some cases ("Fireside Song," "In Hiding") the honey flows in industrial quantities, and a dangerous similarity to the well-known Bee Gees’ syrup is touched. All in all, this false start from a group of eighteen-year-olds just out of school is understandable; what is incredible, however, is that already by the following year, the Genesis sound would appear almost perfectly formed in the excellent "Trespass". Whatever upheaval occurred between '69 and '70 in the minds of these budding musicians is not known to us, but surely an important role must have been played by this providential flop.