When Phil Collins quit Genesis in 1995, Tony Banks and Mike Rutherford recruited Ray Wilson for 1997 album, Calling All Stations. The experience wasn’t what any of them had hoped for, and it would become the prog giants’ final studio LP.
After a European tour of mixed fortunes, a planned US road trip was called off; and Genesis went on hiatus until Collins’ return a decade later. In 2017 Wilson reflected on his time with the band, telling Prog he was still glad it had happened.
They say there’s no place like home – but Ray Wilson isn’t so sure. He’s moved on. Having now lived in Poland for the best part of a decade, and recalibrated a career that’s redefined the cliché ‘roller coaster,’ he isn’t pining for his Scottish roots. Partly because he’s very happy in Poznan, and partly because, after his stints with Stiltskin and Genesis, his life became “pretty grey, to be honest.”
Makes Me Think Of Home, his second album this year, is a solid, brooding beast, with “elements of rock, pop, and progressive music.” The centrepiece and standout title track “might suggest you’re looking forward to getting home,” he muses, “but in actual fact it’s the opposite. It’s almost like thinking of home as a prison. Home being the place you’ve moved away from…”
Wilson, a talkative yet thoughtful presence, has clearly found inner calm after experiencing one-hit-wonder status with Stiltskin (their 1994 debut single Inside was a No.1 across Europe, aided by a Levi’s jeans ad campaign), then spending almost three years as Genesis’ vocalist, facing the daunting challenge of replacing Phil Collins in 1996.
“I lived in Edinburgh for 38 years,” he reflects. “Britain – or Scotland if you like – didn’t really have much to offer me as an artist. There never seemed to be the right opportunities. After I’d had the Stiltskin and Genesis things, I felt all I ever did at home was wait for five o’clock, then open a bottle of wine, then open another one, and another one.
“When I moved to Poland and fell in love, things didn’t stand still, didn’t stay the same. I’d gone from Edinburgh, which is a city where everyone ignores everyone, to an environment with a big family spirit. I didn’t speak the language, but it didn’t seem to matter because you still felt it.”
In a new place now in so many ways, Wilson may feel he didn’t get the respect he merited during his Genesis days. Despite the fact that, commercially, the line-up was fairly successful outside America, he took a bucketload of flak simply for not being Peter Gabriel or Collins. He could be forgiven for having been turned off progressive rock – but he’s being the bigger man.
He confesses that he never really saw himself as a prog fan in his youth, though he was switched on to Rush (“You can’t question the ability of those guys – phenomenal”) and Pink Floyd. And yes, he owned some Genesis albums. “I had A Trick Of The Tail, Selling England…, I think, and… the Mama one: what was it called? Genesis? Right.
“Of course, I knew their pop songs from the late 80s because they were on the radio all the time due to Phil’s huge success. But that was it; I wasn’t, like, an ardent fan. I didn’t know the early material in the same way as many of the fans who came to gigs! Although in more recent years I’ve worked with Steve Hackett.”
He guested on Hackett’s Genesis Revisited II tour and album. “I never liked music that seemed to be trying too hard – that’s not for me, unfortunately. I do think Radiohead are magical; but growing up I loved Bowie, Thin Lizzy, Motörhead, AC/DC. I guess music for me has to have melancholy, aggression and humour. Those are the elements that matter to me.”
This was never something that was going to run perfectly in five minutes. I mean, you’ve taken Phil Collins out of the band
Given that Genesis were one of the most English, middle-class bands ever, and that even Phil Collins thought they were a bit posh when he first joined, it’s not easy to imagine Wilson seamlessly fitting in with Tony Banks and Mike Rutherford…
“Well, Phil was grammar school working-class English, but I was grammar school working-class Scottish, so – even more so! But to be fair, I always found Tony and Mike very pleasant people to talk to. I never looked at them and thought: ‘Oh, you’re posh and rich and I’m not.’ They never made me feel that way at all. And we had the common thread of music: I was writing and singing with them and they needed me to be comfortable, to be good at what I was doing, so I never felt a divide as such.
“Although, they kept things close to their chest, which isn’t a characteristic I have. I’m the opposite – I say what I feel. You never knew what they were thinking, and while most of the tour went well, that could sometimes make me feel a little uneasy.”
Things deteriorated in a noted prog stronghold. “It was going well until Italy, where they really adore the 70s progressive stuff. And of course we went along there with Calling All Stations. They liked the new stuff – but when we did Invisible Touch as an encore, that wasn’t very popular! To be fair, I was shit at singing it anyway, back then. I’ve got better since.
“But the call for another encore wasn’t happening and we knew we’d got the setlist wrong for these guys. They wanted In The Cage, not Hold On My Heart. I remember after three Italy shows they had this private meeting in the bus, on the way to Switzerland, with their manager and accountant. I felt they were having second thoughts, because it wasn’t quite right and this was their first bad experience with this new project. I remember getting quite angry about that, in a typical Scottish way: ‘Look, just stop the bus, I’ll fuck off now, no problem.’”
He continues: “This was never something that was going to run perfectly in five minutes. I mean, you’ve taken Phil Collins out of the band. It’s like taking Jagger out of the Stones, or Bono out of U2. You can’t bring someone else in and expect everyone to love it instantly. It’s gonna take time. But the album wasn’t as good as, say, Back In Black was when Brian Johnson joined AC/DC. It had some good songs, but some rubbish ones as well. It was a work in progress and we needed to build from the beginning.
When I started out, my goal was to control my own destiny. And now I do
“I said we should either do that or not. I didn’t want these behind-the-scenes, close-to-the-chest meetings – forget it. ‘I’m either in or not,’ I said. ‘It’s up to you.’ With the exception of that, I never had any problem with Mike or Tony.”
Overall, looking back, is he glad that his Genesis experience happened? “Oh yes, of course! For sure. I mean, I sang with Genesis, for God’s sake! Who can say that? Criticism is fine; that’s life. I’m aware I’ve had a roller coaster-ride career, but when I started out, my goal was to control my own destiny. And now I do.
“I have five people working for me full-time; I have a big live band and it’s all there. I’m not pretending I’m bigger than Springsteen or whoever, but I do my albums and everything by myself. I’ve lived the dream, I’ve had that as my reality – there’s nothing to prove or achieve in that regard.
“If I perform a Genesis song now, it’s because it’s one I know my voice can do a good job of. And I know most musicians would give their right arm to control their own career like that. I took risks and now I can enjoy what I do.”
Home wasn’t built in a day for Wilson; but he’s evidently found contentment in his adopted country. “I’m asked why I don’t come back to the UK more often,” he says. “Well, I’m just so busy! I’m doing really well. People are people, whether they’re Polish, Czech, Russian, whatever – it doesn’t matter to me. An audience is an audience. Where I am is an exciting place to be.”
