by Hector Cook
16
YOU’LL NEVER SEE MY FACE AGAIN
THE FIRST CANDIDATE for the next Bee Gees single was ‘Odessa (City On The Black Sea)’, originally titled ‘Odessa (On The White Sea)’, which remains one of the most ambitious songs The Bee Gees have ever done. Its title inspired by a travel brochure Robin had seen, the song is built around a simple verse-chorus, but with added opening and closing sections, all performed in a stately tempo that gives it a feeling of genuine power. The lyrics are in their best stream of consciousness style, telling the story of the sole survivor of the fictitious British ship Veronica, floating on an iceberg in the Baltic Sea. After an orchestral opening, and some introductory lines sung by the group (which never repeat), the song settles into verse one, Robin singing solo to sparse accompaniment of rhythm guitar and quiet piano, and the rhythm cuts out as voices build to a big, slow chorus of all three voices led by Robin in operatic style. Verse two adds electric bass guitar and proceeds at a faster pace through the same melody, into an even more intense chorus, augmented by a featured cello part played by Paul Buckmaster and some high wailing notes by Robin. The extended closing section has a rhythmic instrumental and wordless group vocal, building in power, and then dropping off and back to the opening orchestral and vocal part to finish.
The group discussed splitting the song’s seven and a half minutes over both sides of a seven inch disc, although the traditional three minutes limit for a single had been broken the previous year by two seven-minute-plus hit singles, Richard Harris’ ‘MacArthur Park’ and The Beatles’ ‘Hey Jude’, neither of which was split to two sides. The idea to release it as the lead-off single was dropped, apparently because The Bee Gees were unwilling to be seen to be following a trend for long singles.
“I worked and worked on that ‘Odessa’ track,” Robin said bitterly, “and I got a ring from Robert Stigwood to say it was the greatest pop classic he had ever experienced. He said it was stupendous, and I used to get calls from him at three and four and five and six in the morning telling me the same thing. I thought it was going to be the new single …”
Robert Stigwood’s final choice for the single was released under a cloud of acrimony. “It all started with ‘First Of May’ being the single and the flip-side was ‘Lamplight’,” Maurice recalled. “I was in the middle of this. Robin was singing the lead on ‘Lamplight’ and Barry was singing the lead on ‘First Of May’. There was also a bit of management problems going on too at the time. Each one was being told, ‘You don’t need the other brother’ and all that stuff was going down. Egos got in the way and when you’re 19, 20 years old … It’s like when managers promise you the world and what they can do for you, you really can do it alone. I never got told that, only Robin and Barry did. I was in the middle and the next thing I hear was that we were doing the Cucumber Castle film for television and Robin’s quit because ‘First Of May’ is going to be the A-side.”
“If Robert says ‘First Of May’, then ‘First Of May’ it is, whether it is a flop or a hit,” Barry said, “because I never try and pick our singles. I can’t. I always leave that to Robert.”
“I haven’t released a single yet that the whole group have liked,” Stigwood shrugged. “Somebody is always going to be unhappy. This time it was Robin, yet fortunately I usually make the right decision because 25 million singles later, no one can be really unhappy about my choice.
“The fact is that [Robin] has an incredible and wonderful imagination. This is shown in the lyrics of his composition ‘Odessa’ … which is, I think, one of the finest pop songs ever written.”
Certainly Stigwood’s choice of single on a commercial basis could not be questioned as it made number five in the UK and number three in Germany. While it only just breached the US Top 40 at number 37, it was also Top Five in other places in the world such as Australia and New Zealand, and several European countries.
The choice of single didn’t bother Maurice so much as the promotional appearances. “I was always the sexy bass player in the background while Robin stood centre … and I’ve never had the opportunity to prove on TV that I could play the piano,” he complained. “I’m quite proud of my piano playing, and I had a good chance to express it on ‘First Of May’. What happened? Robert Stigwood, our manager, decided that since Barry did the singing, we couldn’t have Robin standing there doing nothing, so he sat at the piano and pretended to play while I was back on bass again. I mean to say, Robin’s never played a note on the piano at our recording sessions. So I just wish I could be appreciated musically now.”
The sessions for Idea were scarcely separated from those for the Odessa album, and these began at Atlantic Studios in New York as early as August 13, 1968, with the mixing taking place between October and December. This time The Bee Gees were going to try for something more ambitious and create a concept album, to be called Masterpeace (sic) or The American Opera. The album notes name IBC Studios for the fourth consecutive album, but some of it was recorded in the United States.
In the event, growing dissension between Barry and Robin caused the album to lose its concept, and it became Odessa, another collection of songs. It was released in a lavish red velvet gatefold sleeve embossed in gold, an extravagant touch which brought problems of its own.
“The early records came in the flocked cover,” Tom Kennedy recalled, “the later ones came in just a red gloss cover because the fibres were like itching powder, and they brought the whole plant to a stop. When they were making the album covers and were sticking the flock on, it was getting in the air … causing rashes, and they had to stop production on it. At the end of production, they did go over to the non-flocked cover because of the problems they were having.”
Odessa was a double album spread over two LP discs and running 65 minutes, almost twice the length of Idea. As with many such albums, there are many who feel it would have been better trimmed to a single disc, and Barry Gibb is among them.
“Robert Stigwood wanted a double album and we didn’t know why,” he said. “I think it was basically a financial deal. If we do a double album, everybody makes more money except the group. So we were doing something that we weren’t motivated to do, because of somebody else wanting to have a double album go out. So it became full of all this stuff that didn’t necessarily blow me away at all. I like some of the first sessions in New York. Everything was done for tax reasons, you know? You’d go to New York to record so you wouldn’t have to pay taxes in England. We didn’t even know these things. This was our management and record company. There were so many things going on in those days that had to do with how you lived your life, and you didn’t know about them. So the Odessa album to me was not a good experience. It was an album that was made over many, many months, and we didn’t really want to do it. A single album would’ve been perfect. A double album, it just seemed there was too much stuff that wasn’t that good.”
The problem with reducing a double album is that very rarely does everyone agree on what should be left out. In fact, a version trimmed to one LP was released in certain countries in the Seventies. Rather surprisingly, most of Robin’s songs were cut.
“We were trying something there,” Robin said. “No way can it be said to be commercial, but it wasn’t done as a commercial thing so it was risky. From a recording angle, I think that we could have recorded it a hell of a lot better, but … ‘Odessa’ the actual song is still one of my favourites.”
“People thought it was an in-depth album,” Maurice recalled, “like, ‘What do they mean by those lyrics?’ and ‘What’s this all about?’ There’s all sorts of different areas on it. It went up and down in places, but a lot of people regard it as our Sgt. Pepper. To us, I don’t think it was the best album we made, but the main title ‘Odessa’ I loved. I thought that was beautifully played by Paul Buckmaster, who eventually became Elton John’s musical director. He was a cello player on one of our tours and sat in the room with us, and we wrote it all with just a cello and an accordion, so i
t was great memories from that album.”
Barry disagreed with Maurice about the great memories. “I guess I have strong personal feelings about it because it was a time when the group was splitting up,” he said. “We were in tremendous crisis with each other. You know, maybe it’s because there was so much trouble and strife going on at the time the songs were written. I think there’s probably a little bit of that in every song …
Barry. (Glenn A. Baker Archives)
The Hugh Gibb Orchestra during Summer Season, Isle Of Man, 1949. Back row: Jim Caine and Hugh Gibb; front row: Albert Metcalfe, Archie Taylor and Charlie Whewell (Edna Caine)
Barry Gibb, aged three, in the garden at Chapel House, Strang Road, Isle of Man. (Archie Taylor)
Maurice (left) and Robin, aged about 18 months, on the Isle of Man. (Courtesy Gibb Family)
The Rattlesnakes in Manchester, early 1958. Left to right: Paul Frost, Kenny Horrocks, Maurice, Barry and Robin. (Courtesy Gibb Family)
Robin, Barry and Maurice in Brisbane, c. 1961, shortly before moving to Sydney. (News Limited)
Fred Marks, managing director of Festival Records, the first man to sign The Bee Gees. (Courtesy Joan Marks)
The Gibb Brothers during their first ever visit to Festival’s Pyrmont recording studios in January, 1963. (Michael Giuliano)
Col Joye introduces Maurice Gibb to a drum kit at Pyrmont studios in January, 1963. (Michael Giuliano)
The Gibb Brothers in readiness for signing their contract with Sydney’s Festival Records, 1963. (Glenn A. Baker Archives)
Barry, Robin and Maurice on the Bandstand TV set where they performed their first single ‘The Battle Of The Blue And The Grey’, 1963. (Glenn A. Baker Archives)
The Bee Gees appear on the Australian TV show Thank Your Lucky Stars in August, 1964, promoting their new single ‘Claustrophobia’, backed by The Delawares. Left to right: Bruce Davis, Leith Ryan, Maurice, Bill Swindells, Robin, Laurie Wardman and Barry. (Courtesy Bruce Davis)
Barry inspecting his injured left eye after his shooting accident, April 1965. (Graeme Roberts)
The Gibbs in 1965, on the road, surveying the world from the window of their van. (Glenn A. Baker Archives)
Barry, Robin and Maurice with their Kombi van on the streets of Sydney, 1966. (Courtesy Gibb Family)
Barry in Sydney in 1966 with Maureen Bates, whom he would marry four months before the family returned to England. (Glenn A. Baker Archives)
Maurice in Brisbane in 1965, photographed by his girlfriend Diana Lane. (Diana Lane)
The Brothers Gibb, shortly before departing for England, 1966. (News Limited)
Robin. (LFI)
New drummer Colin Petersen with Robin, Barry and Maurice in London in March 1967, shortly after signing with Polydor. (Rex)
The Gibb family, less father Hugh, backstage in London. Left to right: Barry, Maurice, Lesley, Andy, mother Barbara, and Robin. (LFI)
Vince Melouney joins in the band. Left to right: Barry, Vince, Robin, Colin and Maurice. (Rex)
Frankie Howerd Meets The Bee Gees, 1968. (Rex)
Barry winks for the camera. (Harry Goodwin)
Maurice with his girlfriend, Hungarian pop-star Sarolta Zalatnay. (Pictorial Press)
Robert Stigwood. (Rex)
Robin weds Molly Hullis at Caxton Hall, London, December 8, 1968. (LFI)
Maurice marries Lulu at Gerrards Cross, Buckinghamshire, February 18, 1969. (PA News)
Vince Melouney with wife Dianne. (Pictorial Press)
Colin Petersen with wife Joanne, secretary to Beatles manager Brian Epstein. (LFI)
Robin goes solo. (Harry Goodwin)
Peter Mason, Robin’s would-be replacement, in 1969, wearing the suit that Barry bought him in Carnaby Street. (Courtesy Peter Mason)
Lesley Gibb Evans on stage with Maurice, Colin and Barry, at The Talk Of The Town, London, May 1969. (Barry Plummer)
The cast of Cucumber Castle, with Andy Gibb in the bath. (Rex)
Colin Peterson, wearing his Cucumber Castle outfit, two days before he was fired from The Bee Gees. (Harry Goodwin)
Barry in a scene from Cucumber Castle that was cut from the final film. (Rex)
Clockwise from top left: Barry, Maurice, Andy (aged 12) and Robin. (Harry Goodwin/Barry Plummer)
Robin in 1969, with wife Molly and Hedgehog the basset hound. (LFI)
Barry in the bath. (Pictorial Press)
Maurice with Barbara Windsor arriving at the Garrick Theatre, London, for Sing A Rude Song, June 1970. (LFI)
Colin and Robin in the control room at IBC Studios recording ‘Make A Stranger Your Friend’ for Jonathan Kelly. (Barry Plummer)
“I realised it was over when I turned up at the studio one night and realised I was the only one there. The engineer said, ‘Let’s [record] anyway’ and I said, ‘I can’t,’ and picked up my guitar and walked out. I went to Robert’s house and then I found out that Robin and Maurice were recording somewhere else. I thought, ‘This is the end.’ ”
The style of Odessa was a definitive shift from the pop of Idea, and the group were now without Vince Melouney, although he was involved in the initial New York recording sessions. The Bee Gees did not go so far as to offer the vague philosophical advice or quotations from classic literature that might have made it art rock, but they did provide a different kind of bridge between pop songs and the sound of an orchestra. Bill Shepherd must have had his hands full doing the charts as some of these songs are set in the lushest orchestration of any Bee Gees recordings. With both the lead-off single and opening album song among them, it seems as if all of the songs had large arrangements, but they don’t. Some are basic rock and veer towards country. “It was my idea that we do that sort of thing,” Colin Petersen claimed of the country influence on Odessa, “and Maurice is the one who will take more time out to listen to what I have to say, although within the group, the okay has to come from Barry.”
“Barry is The Bee Gees co-ordinator,” explained Robert Stigwood. “I use the word advisedly, as there is no leader of the group as such. He has a tremendous feel for soul music à la his composing work for The Marbles, but he is also a fantastic solo singer in his own right.”
The musical ideas seem to have taxed the ability of the technical team. Some of the arrangements of orchestra, rock band, and lead and backing vocals are so lavish that they lose clarity, as if too much musical information is being crammed into a small space. Perhaps less would have been more. Depending on how clear the multi-track is, the Odessa album may be a good candidate for a remix some day.
One of the album’s high spots was ‘Melody Fair’, a heavily orchestrated song where Barry trades off lead vocals with Maurice in the way he usually does with Robin. “I think ‘Melody Fair’ was written in the studio,” Barry said. “We used to write a lot of stuff on the spot in the studio. We often used to go to recording studios without any songs at all. Because the time was booked [and] we had to be there. So we’d turn up at seven at night, and we’d basically start writing and cutting the backing track of a song that wasn’t finished. We would just create it in that way … A lot of [the early] albums were done in one month, or five weeks. The first one was three weeks. It really makes you think about whether the technology has made things more complicated. It seems like everyone takes much longer now, and in fact, some of the best stuff I ever heard put on record was done at a time when people didn’t even construct a song before they started recording. There was this flashing creativity that had to go on and you just did it. You didn’t think about where it would end up. You just did it. ‘Melody Fair’ was probably influenced by ‘Eleanor Rigby’ – I was wanting to make the same kind of statement.”
Particularly unusual is the inclusion of ‘Give Your Best’, a square-dance with guitars and fiddle which Colin Petersen described as “the best recording session I’ve ever been to”. Whether this was due to the influence of two anonymous bluegrass musicians on the song, he didn’t say. It’s followed by something even more unexpected
, a pair of instrumentals; the first, ‘Seven Seas Symphony’, with Maurice’s simple piano playing a complex (for them) melody line, and the second a string arrangement of the short ‘For All Nations (International Anthem)’.
There was also ‘Never Say Never Again’. “I wanted a line to go, ‘I declared war on Spain’,” Robin said of it. “Instead Barry wanted something so normal it was ridiculous. He said my words were so unromantic. But what could be more normal than a man in love wanting to declare war on anything that was to him unlovely?” In this instance, Robin was successful; the line stayed.
That the leading single ‘First Of May’ comes way back in the penultimate spot, shows how late it was chosen, and that no one wanted to re-sequence the album to fit it into a more commercial place in the order.
Maurice recalled the session in which that song came about. “Barry and I were sitting at the piano,” he said, “and I started playing the chords, and Barry started singing, ‘When I was small and Christmas trees were tall,’ and started singing along with it … We put a demo down with a vocal and we kept the piano track. Went back to England, and went into IBC studios in London, added onto that piano track and Barry’s vocal stayed on as well – he just redid bits of it. We had a choir and an orchestra all on this one piano.”
