Recollections of Massey Hall, Toronto, 8th November 1973, by David Sage.

The period when Genesis hit Toronto was a very exciting time musically. Bands as diverse as Roxy Music and Mahavishnu Orchestra were putting out first releases, and Genesis were, of course, just about to break big here in North America.

We were sitting in my friend Paul's bedroom (still friends after all these years, too--hi Paul! look I'm a star *grin*) one afternoon, in an apartment he shared with some other fellows. We were doing whatever it was that we did to pass the time in those days. We were probably listening to some music, but if we were, a side of a record had finished and in the ensuing silence a strange sound came wafting into the room from elsewhere in the apartment.

We all sat there stock still, curious, then amazed at what we were hearing, wondering what the hell it was. Ultimately I am sure someone (probably Paul) got up to go and investigate. Thus began our relationship with the band.

And what an appropriate introduction to Genesis it was. The music we had been transfixed by was the introductory mellotron to Watcher of the Skies. The song remains the most powerful and evocative Genesis tune to this day for me personally--stops me dead, whatever I am doing, when I hear it anywhere.

Of course one or the other or all of us went out and investigated what might be available by this new band. Paul used to be able to lay his hands on copies of NME or whatever the rock press was pumping out in Britain at the time. We got to read all about this band and how they were taking England by storm. Best of all it turned out they were coming to North America and making a stop here in Toronto at Massey Hall!

Of course we grabbed ducats and off we went. 

Of the show itself I have a precious few memories, I am getting older . . . I will always remember the way the show started, of course, with Watcher of the Skies (saw this show twice, this one and another one in the same venue 6 months later). The stage in darkness and the anticipation building once the band began to spit out the staccato telegraph message under the eerie opening mellotron chords--then Gabriel just appeared somewhere out of the back in that wild-ass headpiece and the floor-length black cape and seemed to just float, not walk, but float across the stage as the intro worked its way frantically towards his first singing verse.

I also remember his performance piece around I Know What I Like. Even though I hung out with a grand bunch of English boys and others of mainly Anglo heritage, much of the humour was lost on a colonial lad like me. I had never seen anything like this live before, never mind at a rock concert! Gabriel was quite wonderful in his hip waders doing his mowing. I understand the friction that must have developed within the band as it has been revealed in documentaries over the past few years. 

Andrew mentions the flash pots at the climax of Supper's Ready in his write-up. I cannot say that we were quite so close for this performance, but at the next show, 6 months later, we were front and centre, 1st or 2nd row, right on the aisle. The reason you can hear the audience reacting to the flash pots is because they were POWERFUL. People sitting in the first 3 rows took a solid shot to the chest and were momentarily blinded--felt like you'd been hit with a baseball (make that cricket in keeping with the context) bat, and that's no lie. You found yourself checking your eyebrows after the blast to see whether they had been singed off your face. 

Another friend who knew what to expect at the 2nd show, moved over to the side of the stage and took a wonderful picture of Gabriel poised behind the smoke from the flash pots ripping off his 'apocalypse' costume at this very moment. I suppose she also managed to avoid the blast in this manner. *grin*  I've often wondered whatever happened with that photograph . . .

In closing, all I can add is that this show, this version of Genesis, and these albums (Foxtrot, Nursery Crime, Selling England) had a profound effect on us and me at the time. I cared not for where the band headed after Gabriel left, but it did not matter. They left a powerful musical legacy. It was a unique blend of musicianship and showmanship, the likes of which we had not heard before and have only heard in pale imitations since.


