Keyboard Legend Greg Phillinganes on a Wondrous 50-Year Career
The iconic artist reflects on a lifetime of music that has reached billions, the people who guided him and the life he’s still building
Written by Lisa Battles
Keyboard legend Greg Phillinganes started his career at age 19 playing with Stevie Wonder. About a month into it, he performed his first professional gig in front of an estimated 125,000 people, sitting in Wonder’s seat as the new keyboardist for Wonderlove. The band opened the show before Wonder’s performance at the National Mall in Washington for Human Kindness Day on May 10, 1975.
The night before that show, he mustered the nerve to ask if he could take Wonder’s bag full of cassettes of then-unreleased music up to his hotel room. Permission granted, he listened to all of it and barely slept.
“The most amazing thing was that he trusted me, this kid he hardly knew, with his life,” Phillinganes says. “I put everything back, gave him the bag, and that, to me, sealed our relationship.”
Even those who don’t know Phillinganes’ name undoubtedly know his sound. He’s played on a dizzying list of iconic studio albums that have shaped pop culture over the past 50 years, starting with Wonder’s Songs in the Key of Life, The Jacksons’ Destiny, and Michael Jackson’s Off the Wall and Thriller.
He’s toured with Jackson as a music director and as part of the band with George Benson, David Gilmour, Lionel Richie, Eric Clapton, Toto and John Mayer, to name just a few.
Lately, he’s been raising 11-year-old twin sons with his wife, singer and law student Jory Steinberg, and mentoring students as a professor at USC.
He doesn’t dwell on his place in music history.
“That would be counter-humble, for lack of a better response. It would distract from challenges that will come up in the future or future pursuits. As far as my own musical legacy, I don’t reflect on those kinds of things until I am reminded of it from someone else, or something else,” he says.
It’s certainly a career worth reflection, so we caught up with Phillinganes on the eve of his 70th birthday in May 2026.
Where it began: Detroit
In 1956, just a few years before Berry Gordy launched Motown in Detroit, Phillinganes also launched into the world there as the newborn son of Ardick and Elaine Phillinganes.
Although his parents split early in his life, he recalls how his father, a professional violinist, was “fastidious and prided himself on his accuracy and his technique,” he says, attributing his natural music talents to him.
It was his mother’s acuity and action when he was age 4 that led him further. After she saw how he took to their neighbor’s basement piano, she took him straight to Grinnell Brothers Music House downtown, where he met “his new best friend,” a dark brown upright piano with a panel he’d kick in rhythm as he played.
Thanks to his mother, lessons followed with beginner and intermediate teachers. When she saw he was getting cocky about playing by ear and not learning to read music, she found a new teacher – Mischa Kottler, pianist with the Detroit Symphony Orchestra.
“He was a no-joke, very hardcore, strict pianist. He was absolutely what I needed as far as discipline and just brilliant in every way – strong, you know,” Phillinganes says.
Phillinganes also joined the Detroit Youth Symphony, taking the bus on Saturdays to the Ford Theater to rehearse at a time in the city he describes as so glorious with so much going on musically.
Besides joining his school’s jazz ensemble, he connected with other young musicians to form high school bands, one of which featured drummer Ricky Lawson, who’d soon change his life.
Another of his high school bands focused on jazz, anchored by a saxophonist friend who shaped his influences, as he says, “single-handedly introduced me to pretty much the world of jazz.”
Even before that, he says his first spark for learning more about music was at age 7, when he saw The Beatles on Ed Sullivan in 1964.
“The impact they made on the country, the impact they made on me was just indelible,” he says. “When I saw that on TV, I went, ‘Right. I wanna do that.'”
The ability to make a wish
Radio was another influence, especially CKLW in Windsor, Ontario, just across the river from Detroit and reaching the whole metro.
“There were stations in Detroit, soul stations like WCHB and WJLB, and I listened to them a lot as well. But the crown jewel was CKLW because they just had the power; they had the influence; they had the audience; they would play everything,” Phillinganes says.
He recalls listening in 1974 when Elton John hosted as “EJ the DJ.” Another favorite was the station’s annual Christmas Wish promotion. He says he fantasized about being one of the callers to have a wish granted.
When asked what his wish would have been, he pauses.
“That’s a good question. I really don’t know. I just remember fantasizing about the ability to make a wish,” Phillinganes says.
As it turned out, he was already well on his way to developing that ability and would see many granted as a result.
College days before Wonder U
By his teens, Phillinganes had connected deeply with the music of Stevie Wonder, tacked up his posters on his walls and even told friends he’d play with him one day.
“I don’t know where that came from,” he says, “Except now, I have a much clearer idea that was apparently God planting that seed for me and just naturally walking in that belief. It’s one thing to walk in that belief, and it’s another thing when it actually happens.”
He graduated from Cass Tech High School, enrolled at Wayne State University, enjoyed “the whole Joe College thing and even bought a little briefcase,” but wasn’t doing well in any of his classes, even those he liked.
During that time, his buddy Lawson had landed an audition with none other than Stevie Wonder.
Phillinganes and his brother went over to Lawson’s the night before Lawson departed for New York. That night, Lawson insisted Phillinganes play some songs to record on a cassette he said he’d take to Wonder.
“This is the kind of friend he was … everyone should have a friend like Ricky Lawson,” Phillinganes says.
He played a few things, including Wonder’s “You Are the Sunshine of My Life” and “Sun Goddess” by Earth, Wind and Fire featuring Ramsey Lewis.
Meanwhile, he set a private deadline: If nothing happened by the last day to register for the spring quarter, he’d give college one more shot. The call from Ricky Lawson came that morning.
Lawson said, “Stevie wants to see you in New York today.”
“It is absolutely miraculous,” Phillinganes says. “My life, or certainly the career aspect of my life, has been filled with millions of moments that you can’t possibly make up. Millions. And that was the first one – the one that started it all.”
Instead of returning to traditional college, he was applying to a different one, which he later called “Wonder U.”
Joining Wonderlove
After a surreal experience being sent to Wonder’s house to pick up one of his brothers on the way to the airport, Phillinganes arrived in New York after departing Detroit in light snow on April 1, 1975.
Once in the Big Apple, he went to The Hit Factory studios, where he made small talk with engineers for hours until Wonder arrived.
“Finally, the elevator door opens, and here he comes ambling in, being led by his sister, Renee. We get introduced, and he extends his hand to shake mine. That moment changed my life,” Phillinganes says.
After an initial introduction to Wonder and running through a few things, including an unreleased song, they called it a night. The full audition with the band the next day ran all day.
That evening, in the car on the way back to the studio, Wonder turned around and asked him, “So, how does it feel to be a member of Wonderlove?”
Knowing Wonder’s reputation as a practical joker, Phillinganes asked, “Are you serious?” When Wonder replied, “Of course,” he asked, “Would you mind telling my mom?”
He explains, “I figured ‘You ain’t gonna lie to mom.’”
They returned to the studio, and Wonder made the call.
It was April 2, 1975, about one month before Phillinganes turned 20 and Wonder turned 25. Their birthdays are one day apart.
At the time, Wonder was working on Songs in the Key of Life. Phillinganes ended up on four tracks: “Contusion,” “Joy Inside My Tears,” “Saturn” and “Isn’t She Lovely,” the latter of which stood out the most to him.
“‘Isn’t She Lovely’ will always be special to me because while I was in New York, I remember visiting his brownstone apartment from time to time. I remember going upstairs to one of the floors and looking down into the crib, seeing this cute little pie, who turned out to be [Wonder’s daughter] Aisha, the object of the song’s affection,” Phillinganes says. “He had me play electric piano on that. I don’t know why, because he could’ve easily done it, but he wanted me to do it. So now Aisha is the same age as the number of years that I’ve known Stevie. Every time I look at Aisha, it’s an automatic anniversary.”
More wonderful years
He stayed on retainer with Wonderlove until early 1979, living in New York and then L.A., a city he connected with immediately and has remained.
The band didn’t tour during that time but played one-offs, like the one at the National Mall in early 1975, headlining a show in Jamaica where Bob Marley opened in October 1975, and the show in Lagos, Nigeria, in 1977, when the Grammys transmitted a segment via satellite to the live broadcast as Wonder accepted four awards.
During this time, Phillinganes had begun studio work with other artists, notably playing on Roy Ayers’ Everybody Loves the Sunshine, which was released before Songs in the Key of Life and has been sampled hundreds of times since. That connection? Ricky Lawson, again. While Lawson didn’t land the gig with Wonder, he did with Ayers.
Phillinganes had also started working with the Jacksons, arranging rhythm for Destiny, and connected with Quincy Jones around that time.
A promised Wonderlove album never fully materialized, despite things no one could make up while recording at Studio in the Country in Bogalusa, Louisiana, specifically, a ride around a parking lot with Wonder at the wheel, Phillinganes says.
“You have not lived until you’ve been in a car with Stevie Wonder driving it. It’s just the best feeling in the world. You cannot make this stuff up,” he says.
He decided to leave Wonderlove in early 1979. Soon, he joined George Benson for his summer tour.
“This is when he was burning hot and breezing. He was at the height of his prowess, and I was in a band with Phil Upchurch, this young drummer named Tony Lewis and Stanley Banks, the legendary bassist who could play bass and tambourine at the same time with one of his feet,” Phillinganes says. “It was brilliant. We had Randy Waldman on piano, and he would conduct the orchestras for us.”
Studio work, Michael Jackson and Quincy Jones
What followed in Phillinganes’ studio work included The Jacksons on Destiny, playing for producers like Don Cornelius of SOLAR – Sound of LA Records and Quincy Jones, who brought him in for Michael Jackson’s Off the Wall in 1979. That experience began a long and fortuitous relationship in which Jones became a mentor.
“I learned from him how to make a person feel like they’re the only one in the room, in a room full of hundreds. He had that gift. He was very personal … I learned from him that the greats never have to tell you that they are; what they do speaks for itself,” Phillinganes says. “He was largely humble like that. He was also a very solid producer who realized he was the one to make decisions. That’s Quincy.”
Phillinganes said that Jones would often joke with him about admiring him despite being his senior, sharing made-up lessons Jones’ father had supposedly imparted that “being somebody means being like Mouse” – a nickname Phillinganes thought he’d lost in junior high … until another musician put Jones on it.
A gift Phillinganes treasures from Jones: An elaborate Off the Wall plaque inscribed with, “You’re my childhood idol.”
“Just saying this right now, it hits me differently. It’s unbelievable. His generosity is so incredible,” Phillinganes says. “He was so loving and nurturing. He was never hard or a task master. I took advantage of him when I was younger, showing up late. One time, I rolled up maybe an hour late, and he met me at the door. He said, ‘Double scale musicians aren’t late,’ and walked away. That’s probably the angriest he ever got with me. It was a total insult to his time, the artist’s time, the studio’s time and everybody’s time. After that, I made a much more conscientious effort.”
Fatherhood, teaching, playing and the future of music
In September 2025, after six weeks on Toto’s summer tour agonizing over whether to stay, Phillinganes resigned. His twin sons were asking for him, as was his internal compass.
“I have one shot at instilling the values that they need to make wise decisions, raising them to be Godly young men for the time that we have down here,” he says. “I can’t phone that in.”
After music directing the Keep Memory Alive Power of Love Gala in Las Vegas this February, he also played with Sammy Hagar for his The Best of All Worlds residency there in mid-March.
Phillinganes says a huge delight this past year has been his work as a professor at USC, working one-on-one with students who bring him demos and fully produced tracks. In that capacity, he’s also run a few master classes so far, one tracing “Behind the Mask” from Ryuichi Sakamoto of Yellow Magic Orchestra through Michael Jackson through to Eric Clapton. Another in February featured PJ Morton and Kim Burrell, and another featured John Mayer.
He helps students in the freshman pop class learn parts and expedite the process, whether it’s strings, horns, organ or piano.
As for teaching in a time that seems uncertain as to where the industry is headed, he says, “I don’t know what the future holds. Only God does. But the future’s right, as far as these kids are concerned, because they’re hungry. They want to learn, and they’re incredibly talented.”
