ction, followed by the song's only two verses, which are highlighted by several different up-tempo time signa tures. The song then calmly glides into a slow, acoustic in strumental piece for about two minutes before gradually returning to a faster tempo and, after several more minutes, the final chorus. The faster portions of the song are filled with infec tious energy, as well as exceedingly difficult instrumental riffs, while the slow section is highlighted by a hauntingly lyrical flute solo. "The Knife" also contains lyrics with subtle wit, as when, for example, when the dictatorial army leader cries, "Some of you are going to die, martyrs, of course, to the freedom that I shall provide." "There was an awful lot of dry humor in the lyrics . . . of our albums . . . that went over a lot of people's heads . . . they tended to think that we were deadly serious," says Phil Collins (Smith, 1988, p. 416).
"The Knife" was also the highlight of the live concerts that Genesis would become famous for. In concert, their music and energy won them many hard-care fans. "There was something mysterious and haunting about their music," remembers Robert Weller, an English painter recalling his first Genesis concert in 1970, "You felt a strong compulsion to stop and listen . . . you could almost feel a strong force flowing from the stage . . . "
(Gallo, p. 21). Genesis structured shows so that they would begin with more mellow acoustic numbers and work their way up to the finale of "The Knife." Armando Gallo remembers the effect of this structuring at the first Genesis show that he saw:
. . . I felt as though I was seeing the band
playing behind a transparent black curtain.
They felt very removed. . . . There was a
subtle buildup to the show until Peter
[Gabriel] started moving about in an aggressive
way. . . . He shook his tambourine until it
broke, and then threw it high in the air . . .
fans . ...