Steve Hackett Proves That Classic Songs Don’t Need Preservation, They Need Electricity. Performing in Ft. Lauderdale on March 1st.

January 27th, 2026

Steve Hackett has never sounded like someone looking over his shoulder. Even when the music stretches back more than 50 years, there’s a current running through it that keeps pulling forward. As Best of Genesis and Solo Gems rolls into South Florida, the show reads less like a history lesson and more like a long, electrified conversation between eras.

“I always say that it’s honoring the past, celebrating the future. That’s the whole point.”

That balance defines the night. Genesis classics and solo standouts form the backbone, but they’re not sealed in amber. Woven into the set is at least one unreleased track, a preview of what Hackett is still building. It leans orchestral and cinematic, a widescreen piece that blurs the line between rock concert and film score. “Something that sounds like rock but is very soundtrack-y as well,” he said, positioning it as a statement rather than a bonus.

Fueling that forward motion is a newly configured band, and with it comes a jolt of first-night electricity. New lineups bring new nerves. “You’re thrown to the lions,” Hackett said, acknowledging that rehearsals only go so far once the crowd is there and the lights hit. That tension, though, is part of the draw. Comfort doesn’t sharpen a band. Risk does.

The group itself reflects how global Hackett’s musical world has become. Musicians from Sweden, Germany, England, and elsewhere come together with backgrounds that span classical precision, jazz freedom, and rock muscle. Hackett laughs about the “United Nations” feel of it, but the diversity shows up where it counts, in how the songs breathe and stretch onstage.

Nowhere is that more apparent than at the keyboards, a role Hackett describes as deceptively massive. Sounds stack, shift, and collide, and the margin for error is thin. “The planning is enormous,” he said. That pressure is heightened by the departure of longtime collaborator Roger King, who spent three decades shaping the live sound. King’s exit closes a major chapter, one Hackett speaks about with respect and understanding. Thirty years on the road takes a toll.

Stepping into that space is Lalle Larson, whose résumé runs through ABBA, The Flower Kings, and Agents of Mercy. Hackett doesn’t hesitate when talking about his abilities. If a solo needs to hit hard, Larson is given the green light to go for it. The result is a band that can lock into structure one moment and explode into improvisation the next.

The songs themselves were chosen with unusual directness. During the pandemic, Hackett stayed in touch with fans, asking what their ideal Genesis and solo-era set would be. Their answers didn’t disappear into a void. They shaped the tour. Familiar favorites earned their place because listeners demanded them, not because tradition insisted.

That approach mirrors Hackett’s broader philosophy about progressive rock, a label he’s grown wary of. He prefers “inclusive music,” a term that leaves room for power without excess and complexity without fatigue. Technique still matters, but it no longer needs to dominate every second. Relentless speed, he believes, can flatten an audience rather than lift it.

What cuts through instead is melody. It’s the thread that runs from his Genesis years straight through his current work. If a song doesn’t stand on its own on the page, if it doesn’t carry emotional weight before amplification, it doesn’t survive. Ideas are scrapped without sentimentality if they stop surprising him. Comfort is the enemy. Curiosity wins.

That openness has pushed Hackett toward wider collaborations and bolder textures. He talks about working with musicians from India and Azerbaijan, pulling in instruments and rhythms that sit well outside rock’s traditional borders. Classical elements collide with global influences, not as novelty, but as natural extensions of the sound he’s always chased.

When reflecting on his younger self, Hackett doesn’t romanticize the struggle. The advice is blunt. Don’t let criticism turn inward. Don’t let anyone talk you out of doing the work. Keep playing, keep refining, keep showing up. Luck follows persistence, not the other way around.

For South Florida audiences, the promise is a show that hums with recognition but crackles with momentum. The familiar songs land with weight, the deeper cuts add texture, and the new material points clearly ahead. It’s rock music that respects where it came from without being trapped by it. As Hackett sees it, great music doesn’t age out. It just finds new ways to hit harder.