The voice that once defined a generation of pop and progressive rock is now finding a new kind of resonance in silence.

As Phil Collins approaches his 75th birthday, the legendary Genesis frontman has offered a rare and unflinching glimpse into his life behind closed doors. In a candid interview for the BBC’s Eras podcast, released this week, Collins revealed that he now requires 24-hour care to manage a complex web of health struggles. The admission marks a poignant chapter for a musician whose rhythmic vitality was once the engine of an era, shifting the narrative from his chart-topping dominance to a more human story of resilience, frailty, and acceptance.

The Physical Toll of Percussive Perfection
For decades, Collins was not merely a singer but a kinetic force. His drumming style—ferocious, intricate, and physically demanding—powered the sonic evolution of Genesis and his own solo career. However, the very instrument that built his legacy eventually exacted a severe physical tax.

According to recent comments made to broadcaster Zoe Ball, Collins’ current condition is the culmination of years of wear and tear. “I had everything that could go wrong with me, did go wrong with me,” he remarked, detailing a medical history that reads like a battle log. The musician has undergone five knee surgeries, leaving him with only one functioning knee, and he now relies on crutches or a cane for limited mobility.

The root of his immobility traces back to 2007, during a Genesis reunion tour. A spinal injury sustained while drumming caused lasting nerve damage, resulting in “drop foot”—a condition where the foot drags due to paralysis of the front muscles. This injury was a turning point, effectively ending his ability to play the drums professionally. As noted in coverage by Parade, the loss of sensation in his hands further compounded the tragedy, forcing a man synonymous with the drum kit to tape sticks to his palms just to practice.

Passing the Baton: The “Last Domino”
The emotional weight of Collins’ physical decline was most visible during Genesis’ farewell tour, The Last Domino?, which concluded in March 2022. Unable to stand or drum, Collins performed the entire tour seated, a sight that moved audiences globally.

In a twist of poetic continuity, the rhythmic duties were handed to his son, Nic Collins. Critics and fans alike noted that Nic’s playing style was uncannily similar to his father’s peak era—powerful, precise, and emotionally charged. This transition allowed Phil to focus solely on his vocals, delivering a final series of performances that were less about showmanship and more about a shared, communal farewell. The final show at London’s O2 Arena was not just a concert; it was a public closing of a circle, with the elder Collins watching his legacy live on through his son’s hands.

Battles Beyond the Stage
Beyond the orthopedic issues, Collins has been transparent about his internal struggles. In the Eras interview, he addressed the kidney failure that has plagued him in recent years, attributing it directly to a period of heavy drinking following his initial retirement.

“I’d probably been drinking too much, and so my kidneys were messed up,” Collins admitted, revealing he spent months in the hospital as a result. However, in a testament to his willpower, he confirmed he has been sober for over two years. This candor about the darker side of retirement—the void left when the touring stops—adds a layer of relatable humanity to his superstar persona. As iHeartRadio reported, his focus has shifted entirely from the adrenaline of the stage to the stability of his health, with a live-in nurse ensuring his medication and care regime is strictly followed.

A Legacy Sealed in Amber
What stands out most in Collins’ recent update is the absence of bitterness. While he confessed that the last few years have been “frustrating” and “difficult,” he appears to have reached a state of peace. When pressed on the possibility of new music, his response was grounded in reality rather than ambition: “I feel like I’ve used up my air miles.”

This sentiment suggests a man who understands the value of his own discography. From the experimental prog-rock of early Genesis to the ubiquity of “In the Air Tonight,” Collins has nothing left to prove. His influence is cemented not just in sales figures, but in the specific, atmospheric drum sound that defined the 1980s—a sound that, ironically, his body can no longer produce, but which echoes permanently in the DNA of modern pop.

Conclusion
Phil Collins’ journey from the energetic drummer of the 1970s to the frail but dignified elder statesman of 2026 is a stark reminder of the physical price of artistic greatness. His recent revelations do not diminish his legend; rather, they humanize it. By stepping back and allowing the world to see his vulnerability, Collins offers a final lesson in grace—proving that the strength required to accept one’s limits is just as powerful as the energy needed to break them.