Collins' 'Old' top-notch, jury out on weak 'New'

Before you read this review, please:

1. Get a permanent marker and an old white T-shirt.

2. Sit down at a nearby table and write "Reconsider Phil!" across the chest.

3. Put the shirt on.

4. Begin reading.

Yes, as you've undoubtedly gathered from the fan-boy intro above, this one's a gush-piece. A shameless one, too.

So if you're looking for a fuming dismemberment of Phil Collins and everything mama's favorite songsmith stands for, why don't you put the paper down and go listen to the new Interpol record or something else that's bad, huh?

There'll be no talk of predictable song structure in the passages that follow. No talk of a balding core audience or misguided big band projects. And, for sure, there'll be no talk of Disney soundtracks.

None, folks.

See, Phil Collins is actually really, really good.

Sure, his cultural capital has been depreciating since the mid-'90s, but a compilation like this reminds us all just how endearing, sentimental and downright solid Collins' songs have always been and continue to be.

The damp key intros, the reverb'd tambourine hits, the refined choruses - it's all so marvelously decorous and proper. "One More Night," R&B sheen, tenor sax solo and all, is as tasteful and dapper as adult-contemporary pop gets.

And make no bones about it: This is adult-contemporary pop. But what the hell's wrong with that?

Especially since Collins actually has a knack for penning some incredible tunes. He's more of a Bryan Ferry than a Brian Littrell (that's the guy from Roxy Music and a Backstreet Boy, folks - work with me here).

One listen to "Two Hearts" shows Collins' mettle. The peppy, bass-driven hand-clapper, replete with high-pitched sandpaper croon and string swirls, arguably houses one of his best choruses: "'Cause we're two hearts, living in just one mind/Living together, 'til the end of time."

Chills.

Oh, but you want compilation standouts? How 'bout "Against All Odds"? "So, take a look at me now," Phil begins tidily. "There's just an empty space/There's nothing left here to remind me/Just the memory of your face/You coming back to me is against the odds/And that's what I've got to face."

Cue extended drum fill and enormous adult-contemporary bombast.

Of course, Love Songs isn't the best place to start if you want to actually "Reconsider Phil!" Go back to late-era Genesis, his erstwhile gig, which you might remember from such make-believe films as "We Were Together Longer Than Pretty Much Anybody That Wasn't Called The Rolling Stones or The Kinks."

Or, better yet, try the solo record Face Value, in which the aging Brit won over the United States and the U.K. with little more than a throaty purr, a well-mannered demeanor and some gigantic '80s drums.

Either way, don't take that shirt off for a while. The world could use some convincing.

Contact the A&E Editor at artsdesk@unc.edu.