Review: Is Phil Collins getting too old to tour with Genesis? Here’s my take on that.

There’s a decent debate some out there are having about whether Phil Collins, who is 70 years old but now gets around like someone closer to 90, is in good enough physical condition to still be on the road putting himself through two-hour-plus rock concerts.

And there’s a strong argument that says: no.

No, it’s probably not the safest thing for the Genesis frontman to be hobbling around by himself with just a cane to keep him steady, like he’s done at every show so far on “The Last Domino?” tour, up to and including the one at Charlotte’s Spectrum Center on Saturday night. Even if it’s only to get himself to and from the swivel chair he spends almost the entire concert sitting in.

Because no, this sufferer of degenerative nerve damage is not immune to frightening falls, like the spill he took in the same arena just over two years ago, when he headlined here as a solo act and quite literally fell over in his chair.

I mean, no, he didn’t take any tumbles here on Saturday night, but yes, absolutely, it seemed like something bad could happen to him at any moment whenever he was up on his two unstable feet.

Here’s the thing, though: Nothing bad happened at Genesis’ show in Charlotte.

In fact, something pretty darn good happened.

In front of a crowd of 15,000 or so blissed-out fans who roared for this group as if it was still 1986 — as if it was still, right now, the most popular musical act on the planet — Collins delivered a sparkling performance that showcased his surprisingly powerful singing chops; a remarkable amount of stamina as it pertains to that voice; and a wildly offbeat sense of humor.

After diving right into the tour’s pretty-much-locked-in set with the prog/pop hybrids “Behind the Lines” and “Turn It On Again” (the latter dominated by band co-founder Tony Banks’ bombastic work on the keyboards) and the aggressively ominous “Mama” (with Collins bathed in blood-red light, his face scrunched in a maniacal scowl), Collins sat forward on his chair to address the crowd.

“Boy, it’s been a strange couple of years, but thank you for coming out,” he said. “Brave new world. Got yourself a new president since I was here.”

He paused a beat, before flashing a grin and adding: “Let’s not get into politics.”

And then the not-very-political band launched into its most political song ever — 1986’s “Land of Confusion,” which Collins described as being “still relevant with what’s going on today.”

It was one of the night’s highlights, with band co-founder Mike Rutherford and longtime sideman Daryl Stuermer contributing growling guitar work as the giant screen behind them projected images of rolls of toilet paper raining down from the sky and an army of men in black suits and face masks marching down highways and up the face of the National Gallery.

Another treat was the three-song acoustic set done midway through that brought Collins, Rutherford, Banks and Stuermer to the front of the stage with Collins’ 20-year-old son Nic, who is the band’s touring drummer (and who also drummed here for his dad during his solo tour in 2019).

“Now it’s a bit of a culture shock,” the older Collins quipped, nodding to the fact that Rutherford was seated to his left despite always being to his right in concert, and Banks to his right despite always being to his left. “So God knows what’s gonna happen now.”

What happened, much to the delight of fans, was that they executed lovely stripped-down arrangements of “That’s All” (which in 1983 became the British band’s first top-10 stateside); “The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway” (one of six songs in the setlist from the band’s early prog days, when Peter Gabriel was the bandleader); and the sweet, simple, poppy “Follow You Follow Me.”

It actually worked well to have them all sitting, since — quite literally — it brought the rest of the band down to Collins’ level.

Outside of that, over the course of the show’s 2-hour-and-20-minute running time, Collins came up to theirs just three times: once to make his way to the rear of the stage for a five-minute break after “Home By the Sea,” early in the evening; once, just for a second or two, obliging the crowd’s cheers after he finished introducing the band members and got his own intro from Rutherford; and once for a three-minute break after the main-set closer “Invisible Touch” to set up the encore.

Otherwise, he mostly just sat in his chair.

He did some light air-drumming, flashed some jazz hands, thumped his chest, raised his hands above his head, clapped his hands together, swiveled around to look at other band members. A couple times he grabbed a tambourine, even rapping it against the side of his head during the opening of “I Know What I Like (In Your Wardrobe).”

By and large, though, he just leaned back with the mic in his hand, suggesting that being in a reclined position might be easier on his chronic pain than leaning forward.

As talented he remains as a vocalist, I do wonder what this all must be like for him.

It struck me most significantly during “The Cinema Show,” when Collins swiveled around and appeared to be focusing on his son Nic as he nodded his head to the drumbeat and periodically slapped at the air.

What goes through the elder Collins’ mind in a moment like that? Surely he’s struck by a sense of pride, or at least of satisfaction, by virtue of the fact that his son clearly inherited the talent he himself possessed back when he could beat the drum kit with that kind of raw power and skill.

Yet I also imagine there’s some frustration and sadness there for Phil Collins.

It’s been said that this tour really is it for Genesis. Even if his voice and his desire is still there, Collins might not be road-ready for much longer. Rutherford and Banks, at 70 apiece, aren’t getting any younger either, and certainly if they lacked Collins, it just wouldn’t make sense to continue on.

We’ve seen it before, bands that hint at a particular tour being the last chance to ever see them live, only to have them pop up with another tour a few years later.

But boy, I don’t know...

After a poignant, surprisingly effective closer in “Carpet Crawlers,” with its haunting “We’ve gotta get in to get out” refrain, Collins lifted himself out of his chair one final time and took a series of several bows, then flashed a quick thumbs-up and hobbled off into the darkness.

For whatever reason, I got the distinct feeling that was the last time I’d ever see him on stage here.

If it was, I’d say there’s no debate whatsoever about this: Saturday’s first-rate show would be a very respectable way for him — and for Genesis — to go out.

Genesis’ setlist

1. “Behind the Lines” / “Duke’s End”

2. “Turn It On Again”

3. “Mama”

4. “Land of Confusion”

5. “Home by the Sea”

6. “Second Home by the Sea”

7. “Fading Lights” (first two verses)

8. “The Cinema Show” (instrumental section)

9. “Afterglow”

Acoustic:

10. “That’s All”

11. “The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway”

12. “Follow You Follow Me”

13. “Duchess” (Band Introductions)

14. “No Son of Mine”

15. “Firth of Fifth” (instrumental section)

16. “I Know What I Like (In Your Wardrobe)“

17. “Domino”

18. “Throwing It All Away”

19. “Tonight, Tonight, Tonight” (first few verses and choruses)

20. “Invisible Touch”

Encore:

21. “I Can’t Dance”

22. “Dancing With the Moonlit Knight” (first verse)

23. “The Carpet Crawlers”