
As the Not Dead Yet Tour approached, legendary drummer Phil Collins began to experience nerve problems in his hand that made drumming increasingly difficult. To address this problem, he enlisted his son Nic Collins to take over drumming duties for the tour from 2016 to 2019. During a tour stop in Houston, the father-son duo shared a memorable moment when Nic walked up to the piano after Phil introduced him to the audience.
Phil revealed to the audience that Nic had discovered a song from his debut solo album, You Know What I Mean, that Phil himself liked. In a playful exchange, Phil joked about the number of songs Nic liked, and Nic clarified: “Two songs… mainly just one”. They then delivered a soulful performance of the song, with Phil on vocals and Nic on piano.
The performance was warmly received by Phil Collins’ fans, who were happy to see him perform live despite his health issues. The video of the performance has been viewed over 2.7 million times and many viewers were touched by the father-son collaboration. Comments praised the emotional connection and Nic’s obvious musical talent. One viewer remarked: “Wonderful to see father and son together like this”, and others confirmed: “Nic Collins has inherited Phil’s musical talent”.
The tour also allowed Nic to showcase his diverse musical skills, especially on the drums. At the same show in Houston, Nic demonstrated his drumming skills in a duet with percussionist Richie Garcia, impressing even his father. When Nic joined Richie and Phil for a cajon performance, the group developed into a dynamic drum trio.
After the tour ended in 2019, Nic continued to support his father as a drummer on the Genesis tour from 2020 to 2022. He also joined Mike and the Mechanics, the band led by his father’s Genesis bandmate Mike Rutherford, and showcased his drumming skills with them. In 2022, Nic released his solo project “Better Strangers”, which offers a deeper look into his drumming skills. With a promising future ahead of him, Nic Collins is ready to further his musical career while continuing his father’s legacy.
My Rich Husband Forbade Me from Entering One Room in Our House – I Could Not Stop Crying When I Saw What He Was Hiding

When Alexis’ parents forced her to marry Robert, she had no idea what she was getting herself into. Later, Alexis broke the one rule her husband gave her and entered the room he warned her about, unleashing secrets she wasn’t prepared for.
I couldn’t understand why my parents wanted me to get married before I found someone myself.
“Alexis,” my mother said, “Robert is a catch. He’s a wealthy man who will take care of you. You wouldn’t even have to work.”
I couldn’t refuse. My father had made it clear.
“You marry Robert, Alexis,” he said, puffing on his cigar. “Or you can figure out your own living arrangements.”
In a sense, Robert was my prince charming. Our family had a bakery, which was losing customers because we had no gluten-free options on the menu.
“We will continue to bake what we know,” my father insisted.
Our marriage was definitely an arranged one. Robert’s demeanor was cold, and he refused to let me get to know him properly. I don’t know how my father arranged our connection.
Our wedding was a spectacle of Robert’s affluence, nothing short of extravagant. Robert’s wedding planner had thought of everything.
My wedding dress was a custom piece that he commissioned for me. But even through our wedding planning, we barely spoke.
“I’m looking forward to being married,” he admitted one evening, a few days before the wedding.
“But I don’t know what I’m doing,” he added.
That was the closest Robert had gotten to letting me in.
Two days after our wedding, I moved into our new home.
“Come, I’ll show you around,” Robert said.
He took me around our home, a mansion boasting luxuries I’d never imagined before: sprawling golf courses, a shimmering swimming pool, and a fleet of staff at our beck and call.
“It’s beautiful,” I said when we got to the kitchen. “Everything is beautiful.”
“Now, Alexis, this house belongs to you too,” he declared with a hint of pride.
I smiled at the stranger standing in front of me. Maybe we were going to make something of our marriage.
“But one thing, Alexis,” he said. “There’s one rule. The attic. Never go in there.”
I nodded at Robert. I couldn’t fathom why I wouldn’t be allowed anywhere in the house. But I also recognized that I didn’t know my husband well enough yet. So, I had to obey.
A few days later, Robert went to a meeting, leaving me alone in our massive home.
Driven by curiosity stronger than any warning, I found myself ascending the stairs to the attic. My heart pounded with a mix of fear and excitement. I knew I didn’t have a lot of time.
A quick in and out, I thought to myself.
Pushing the door open, I was met with a sight that sent me to my knees, tears streaming down my face. I didn’t know why I was crying. I didn’t know why I felt confusion and relief at the same time.
The attic, dimly lit, seemed to be a vault of my husband’s hidden memories. Childhood toys lay scattered, each carrying untold stories. Old postcards and photographs of Robert’s life before me. Among the relics were letters from a young boy to his father, a soldier away at war.
“How dare you come in here? Now, I have to change the locks in my own home because my wife does not respect my requests?”
Robert’s face turned red with rage.
“I just want to understand,” I stammered. “I just want to know you, Robert.”
Slowly, his rage dissolved, and he seemed to see me as a companion in his world, instead of the intruder he had made me out to be.
“Alexis,” he said, “Come, let’s sit.”
Robert led me to the living room.
“My father was a stern man. He was a soldier and he believed in keeping emotions locked away. These are the only things I have of a time when I felt loved,” he confessed.
My heart caught on his every word as his voice broke.
What followed was a revelation of his soul. Stories of a lonely childhood, of a boy yearning for his father’s approval, unfolded in our home.
In those vulnerable moments, I didn’t see the distant, cold man I had married but a boy who had never stopped seeking love and acceptance. He just didn’t know how to go about it.
In those few hours, things changed. Robert started letting me in. And now, years later, our home is filled with the cries and laughter of our daughter, April.
Through our daughter, Robert healed. He healed for himself, and for our daughter.
We’ve packed away everything from the attic, so it is no longer a shrine to Robert’s past but is now my little reading nook.
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