Behind the Sun is a typical example of what can happen when a musician is obliged once again to make a record. The mixer has all timbres of instruments blurred and expelled them the last character thoroughly. The pieces themselves are lukewarm food: She's waiting drags mercilessly mixed to make ends meet. Songs like "it all depends" and "never make you cry," arrange themselves into the statement loose porridge. Of course the obligatory Blues acting together but played rather hectic. Rather lackluster wanders EC the scale up and down, what's left of the Blues Feeling, sent umproduziert in cut lengths Phil Collins (un). Only when "Just like a prisoner" EC linked to old strengths, but that's for such a long CD simply too little. Too Bad.