Phil Collins: The Short Films

(...BS/1989) Hang In Long Enough

This is based upon the official music video of Hang In Long Enough - referencing the Titanic's disaster. It used stock footage from the movie "A Night To Remember" about the ship's sinking to link with the song's storyline.
Some sentences said in the video aren't exactly clear to me, so this is my own depiction of it, with some original changes here and there.

Warning: strong language. 
just saying - Phil does use the f-bomb in his autobiography "Not Dead Yet", so it doesn't really matter. xD

Perspective: Phil Collins
1912. | Onboard The S. S. Udio.

Picture black and white frames, yet my band and I are in full colour. That's what you see.

Just moments ago, we had this boring man with a spoon, playing with it because that's probably the only toy he learnt to play well with his whole entire lifetime. And the audience likes it.

Oh, wait. It's 1912 - that's not surprising. I'm just a lucky guy who happens to have the good tricks up my sleeve, y'know?

The audience gives their applause as he finishes his act, and the host walks up to the stage, the curtains drawn. Meanwhile, I just wait in silence for the cue. No one's seeing me... yet.

The host does a little welcome, something along the lines of, "Welcome aboard the S. S. Udio!" And then everything was simply murmuring from him until, "... for the first time on land, please welcome Mr Phil Collins and his galloping horses!" (Galloping horses refers to Phil's band. The name appears on the Serious Hits... Live! stage set.)

Ah, that fucking bloke. I can never get used to that accent. Anyway, that's my cue, so the Phenix Horns - the horn section for Earth, Wind and Fire (I know Earth, Wind and Fire did not exist in 1912), start off the song I made a while back. The drums kick in, and the audience was taken aback by the fact the band played quite loud - not that we really cared. The whole band was really immersed in the music as I was, so that's very understandable. I think the audience is also dumbstruck at the fact we are in colour and they're in monochrome too. 

Just shows the amount of life we have in us, right?

"The signs' gettin' clearer, clearer than you need..."

"The writing's on the wall, for you to see..."

I sing the first few lines of Hang In Long Enough, (that's the song if you didn't know already) and we all were into the groove. The audience was now interested in what we all were doing - and I'm very sure we got their attention.

We did, obviously. They're even watching us now with great interest, awe and admiration. They even like it! They're talking among themselves, actually appreciating the good stuff.

"They always say... that the best things in life are free - but you wanna get everything... well, you're going to have to beg if you want it all!"

The song was going pretty well, till we felt the ship get real tipsy. Tipsy? When did a ship get drunk? Rather, the ship was now starting to tilt from side to side, in the ballroom, rather, where the audience, my band and I was - it was side-to-side tilting. I don't know, did the amount of sound produced by us actually cause some damage to the ship?

The ship's going through some rough waters, I thought. I would just carry on with the song.

"So just hang in long enough..." The band and I were struggling to keep our balance, some actually tripping over and having to stand up again to fight against this impeccable force of nature's waves trying to disrupt my show.

I don't care, I soldier on and even try to dance to the rhythm of my own song in this bloody stupid ship that can't keep itself stable.

That's when I caught the eye of a few sailors in the ballroom as they start whispering in each other's ears, though inaudible because my band and I are bringing the house down, and I thought, perhaps it's just some message.

"Playing hell with your emotions... you'll feel like giving in!"

Somehow, the band was getting as worried as I was, but we still perform. By now, the sailors were actually getting people to evacuate. The ship is sinking.

Fuck. We are too loud. Bloody hell!

I am not intent on leaving a song unfinished, so I get the band to keep on going. At one point, the band really decided to just leave, leaving me to get a guitar...

And finish that last note.

I run out of the ballroom, escaping the horrors. The boats were all gone - leaving a lifebuoy ring (please, not the brand Lifebuoy) that I took and put over me before jumping off into the sea. I float after a while of struggling to not breathe in the cold ass ocean, but I get to the water's surface, and I was right beside the boat where my band was. I look back at the ship, sinking into the gelid ocean.

Yet here I am, completely safe, and sane.

I grab the side of the boat, and complain, "Hey, I told you he was playing too loud!" I was complaining about the band, actually, though I was pointing at mainly Leland Sklar, my bassist and Daryl Struemer, my guitarist.

"Oh, man!!!" The whole band rolls their eyes and says together, before pushing my head down into the water as some form of revenge for what, I don't know.

The S. S. Udio by now had completely vanished. Goodbye, I suppose?

Anyway, that's the story of how I survived the S. S. Udio disaster in 1912 - although I probably indirectly caused the disaster with my band.

Just don't tell anyone about it.