This came out in 1999 – or at least that’s when I got it. Here’s what I said about it back then (with some minor editing):
The good news: Phil Collins stays behind the drum kit and doesn’t sing any insipid ballads. In fact, he doesn’t sing a note. The bad news: A Hot Night In Paris is so awful you’ll wish he had.
These pointless, lifeless jazz adaptations of his songs — do we really need big-band versions of Sussudio and Against All Odds? — sound like something you’d hear at a halftime pep rally or from a talk-show band during commercials. The surprising news: Despite being one of rock’s top stickmen, as a jazz drummer, Collins’ high-school band chops make Charlie Watts look like Gene Krupa. Hot? Not.
