He threw himself into music, which had long been not only an escape but an outlet and a career for his family. His mother is a cellist, his father is a trumpet player, and his grandfather, Jon Robertson, is a world-renowned Juilliard-trained pianist and conductor.
“(Music) literally saved my life,” breathed Phillips. “It was cathartic for me in a time when I really needed it most. I felt very confused, and this is after I retired from football, so my whole identity was being an athlete. I didn’t know who I was outside of the sport. I didn’t really know what I wanted to do with my life, but I fell in love with music and just poured myself into it.”
He humbly and self-deprecatingly admits, “I’m the least talented musician in the family,” but he found his niche in music production. He crafted several songs he was particularly proud of, playing, singing, and arranging, having his fingerprints on every part. He even shared them online for a while before pulling them back down.
“Being an artist is a very vulnerable thing, and when you pour your heart and soul into something, and you put it out there, you know music is— it’s up for judgment. People have their opinions about it.”
Music engineering and production, though, allowed him to work through the granular parts of the song, using his linebacker brain to break down each component like it was X’s and O’s while staying close to the music.
And one day, he may share those songs with the world again.
“Now I have songs in the vault that I’m very proud of that I’ve produced, engineered, sang, wrote everything myself.”
He’s perhaps more prepared to do so now, thanks to the lessons both music and football have taught him about overcoming the anxious parts of sharing yourself on the national stage, be it a concert hall or a football field. And after a year away, calming his heart and his mind, the siren song of football became too strong.