Myocarditis killed Andy—an infection of the heart that inflames and damages heart muscles, but does not generate the arterial blocking that leads to heart attacks and is thus harder to diagnose. Numerous studies suggest a strong causal link between habitual cocaine use and fatal cardiac inflammation. Andy’s years of abuse wrecked his system beyond repair. He died of a broken heart.
“the enigma with the stigma”
The Spirits tour was the high point of the Bee Gee’s career. Like most dramas, the Bee Gees’ story lost its narrative thread after the climax. The Gibbs entered a phase of writing and producing for others. They were preposterously good at it and successful, but their own work suffered.
After the tour, the brothers gazed into their enormous vats of money and decided that those vats were not quite as full as they should be.
In the summer of 1980, the Bee Gees commissioned an independent audit of RSO. The audit turned up $16 million of unpaid royalties owed to the band.{573} On October 2, 1980, the Bee Gees filed suit against Stigwood and Polygram, seeking $75 million from each, plus $50 million in punitive damages. Among their claims were that Stigwood “treated the group as his own Ft. Knox,”{574} “failed to offer the Gibbs’ services to bona fide third-party record companies or publishing firms and did not solicit offers from such firms” and “fraudulently failed and refused to account properly to the Gibbs for royalties and other income payable to them and concealed the fact that substantial sums were owing to the Gibbs.”{575}
Al Coury had a predictably swift and combative response: they asked for “so much money for four songs on the ‘Saturday Night Fever’ album . . . [that] the record company would have lost approximately 15¢ per album. The Bee Gees still wound up with an excessively high royalty, and I believe that Robert Stigwood even gave them a percentage of the film.”
No evidence suggests that Stigwood offered anything of the kind.
“It seems,” Al Coury said, “That they have forgotten the costs involved in selling records and are asking for even more than what has already been given. It is impossible for us to be more generous [without] putting ourselves out of business.”{576} It’s telling that Coury, in the manner of record label presidents since record labels began, used the words “given” and “generous” instead of “earned’ and “paid out.”
Never one to mess around, Stigwood filed a countersuit on October 27. He asked for $310 million for libel, extortion, corporate defamation and breach of contract. Responding to the Bee Gees’ claims of RSO withholding royalties, the countersuit argued: “These accounting claims are not asserted in good faith. Their purpose is to provide a cover for the Gibbs’ demand that Robert Stigwood and the corporate defendants make even more concessions to them.”{577}
Referring to “Grease,” Stigwood’s suit alleged: “Barry Gibb has earned more than $3 million for writing and producing the recording of that one song. That is, to defendant’s belief, the most money ever paid anybody to write one song and produce a single record.”{578} Once again, Stigwood didn’t address whether he owed the band unpaid royalties; instead he cited monies Barry earned straight up. For the kicker, Stigwood claimed: “Plaintiffs’ publication of the false allegations in the unverified complaint is a flagrant abuse of the judicial process” and that the Bee Gees were trying to “bludgeon” him “into extra-contractual concessions by disseminating false accusations to the world wide press.”{579}
It’s amusing to see Stigwood accusing someone else of hype. Author Gore Vidal wrote that as he aged, litigation replaced sex. Stigwood’s obvious glee at the chance for a good legal fight brings Vidal’s words to mind.
Freddie Gershon said: “What you’re dealing with is a bunch of guys who are trying to renegotiate their contracts through the press. The Bee Gees have reached a certain point in their careers, and they’re trying to capitalize on it, and they’re frustrated because, for the last year and a half, Robert has refused to renegotiate. I don’t believe that the Bee Gees believe in this lawsuit. Barry Gibb looked me in the eye and said, ‘We have to start with a high number, Freddie, so we can negotiate down to a new deal.’ I know that Robin and Maurice told Robert Stigwood that they’d never read or seen these papers. Robert has a Victorian sense of morality. He will see to it that this goes on and on until it’s proven publicly and clearly that he has done no wrong.”{580}
On May 19, 1981, the Bee Gees withdrew their suit and it first appeared that they had to grovel a bit. An RSO press release ran: “The Bee Gees deeply regret the distress caused by allegations made ostensibly in their name. The Bee Gees and Robert Stigwood . . . are delighted to continue their immensely successful long-term association.” Gershon said: “If you’ve been in the business long enough, you know that all artists go through periods of temporary insanity. The Bee Gees started investigating the facts, and they realized it wasn’t worth it to go through several years of litigation only to have a judge or jury tell them the same thing they found out themselves: that Robert Stigwood has always treated them fairly and correctly. I believe they were embarrassed to find that out, and they dropped the suit and went away with their tails between their legs.”{581}
On August 6, 1981, the band ran full-page ads in Rolling Stone and Variety asserting that they never apologized to Stigwood and never would. They detailed the terms of their settlement, which suggests that the Bee Gees’ tails were hardly between their legs. Their ad suggests they kicked Stigwood’s ass and settled for most of what they wanted rather than dragging out the lawsuit. To complete their victory, the Bee Gees took out the ads to make sure the world knew they had won. The brothers had learned a thing or two about public relations from their decades with Stigwood and were not feeling repentant.
According to their ad, the Bee Gees won increased advances and increased royalties for the two albums they still owed RSO. After that, they could sign with whomever they chose. Stigwood was out as the Bee Gees’ manager and RSO would have no say over or participation in any future projects. That meant they could write and produce for third parties as much as they liked and Stigwood could not take a percentage of their earnings as his management fee. The Bee Gees also achieved the nirvana of all pop songwriters—they took back their publishing rights. Their publishing deal with RSO had been prohibitive; it stated that all songs by the Bee Gees in perpetuity would be published by RSO. That deal was terminated. The Bee Gees would create their own publishing “entity” and all songs dating back to 1967 would be vested in that entity. Stigwood would get a modest sum for those works, but nothing like what he had been taking. “Substantial arrears” in royalties, totaling millions, had been paid to the Bee Gees, and further audits were taking place. Stigwood’s $310 million suit had been dropped and the Bee Gees hadn’t paid him a dime.{582}
RSO issued a statement: “The press release issued by the Bee Gees is inconsistent with the terms of the settlement. Indeed, as was clearly understood, any settlement with the Bee Gees was conditional on a worldwide apology and without it no settlement would have been concluded.”{583} Stigwood said later: “They had some mad, bad attorney who ended up costing them a fortune. If they have some crook bending their ear and the whole world is at their feet, it’s hard for them. So there are no recriminations; it happened, and we’re the best of friends.”{584}
The lawsuit undid Stigwood. He wound down RSO and retreated to his manse in Bermuda. RSO employees could not get him to make decisions. His health was not perfect. One friend said he “had never seen anyone dole out such a staggering degree of punishment to their body in the pursuit of such an astonishing degree of fun.”{585} Later, Stigwood would buy a castle in England, which he spent years refurbishing.
In 1980, Barry produced Barbra Streisand’s Guilty. Barry wrote the title track and co-wrote all the other tracks with his brothers and Albhy Galuten in various combinations. The album sold 12 million copies, won a Grammy for Best Pop Performance by Duo or Group with Vocal (for “Guilty”), the single hit #3 on the charts and the album went
to #1, stayed there for three weeks and spent forty-nine weeks total on the charts. “Woman in Love,” written by Barry and Robin, went to #1 and held it for three weeks. Guilty was Streisand’s biggest-selling record and introduced her to a vast new audience. Before this album she had had difficulty embracing contemporary forms. She had recorded show tunes, standards and Vegas and Broadway showstoppers that suited her operatic range and meticulous singing.
As is often the case, the deal making that led to the album proves a more compelling story than the recording of it. Streisand read a profile of Barry in which he said he’d love to work with her. Negotiations commenced and Stigwood wanted three-quarters of all royalties, because three Gibbs were involved but only one Streisand. “They all sound alike,” Streisand snapped. “How much for one?” Streisand was known for being a prima donna and a pain to work with. But she and Barry established a professional relationship and responded well to one another. Later, Barry complained about her method of making tea, which was to throw a teabag into a cup of hot water. He regarded her tea-making as barbaric.
Barry recalled, “Barbra said: ‘Do you think I’m the most famous woman in the world? Do you think I’m really as big as I say they am?’ I’d say: ‘You should relax Barbra, because I don’t think there’s anyone ever going to surpass what you’ve done.’ ‘Are you sure? Are you sure?’”{586}
Guilty’s sales—and Barry eliciting such a commercial performance from someone as famously difficult as Streisand—put him and his brothers in demand as a hit-making writing-producing team. The experience was a watershed for Barry; he was in control and he loved it. Working on Andy’s albums had given him a glimmer of what studio musicians could do. His experience on Guilty, with the top session players of the day, changed his modus operandi forever. First-rate session musicians could manifest whatever Barry wanted, almost instantly. Barry was not the first genius they’d dealt with who couldn’t read music. The real pros needed less explanation. Barry swore off having a band and intended to work only with session players on all upcoming projects.
The Bee Gees next record, Living Eyes, came out in October of 1981. It was their first LP since Spirits, which had sold upward of 30 million copies. Living Eyes sold fewer than 800,000. It hit #41 in the UK and the US. Despite using a band of session wizards, they created not one memorable song. The Bee Gees’ sound was trapped in post-disco.
“We’ve always perceived ourselves as a songwriting group,” Barry said later. “We’re a vocal group second. If there hadn’t been some kind of a backlash after Saturday Night Fever there wouldn’t have been ‘Islands in the Stream.’ There wouldn’t have been ‘Chain Reaction.’ They were the kinds of things we did because we were diverted.”{587}
“From 1980–87,” Maurice said, “all we did was record and produce other people. We had a lot of artists out there doing our music. If we had put all that music out as Bee Gees, no one would have touched it because the Fever period was such a saturation that people got bored with us. People said, ‘Hey, enough’s enough!’”{588} “Everything we’ve written for other people, we said, ‘Gosh, we wish we were doing this.’ But we’re professional, so we’d give it to them even though I might cry a little on the way home.”{589}
In 1982, Barry, along with Karl and Albhy, produced Dionne Warwick’s Heartbreaker. Barry, Maurice and Robin wrote six songs for the record. Barry and Albhy wrote another three. The single “Heartbreaker,” written by the Bee Gees, went to #2 in both the US and UK. Warwick was skeptical of the song and surprised by its success. The album sold 3 million copies worldwide and made it to #2 on the UK charts. The Bee Gees, Karl and Albhy were proving their adaptability and the stars came calling.
Barry, Albhy and Karl produced Kenny Rogers’s 1983 Eyes That See in the Dark. The Bee Gees wrote five songs; Barry and Maurice wrote three; Barry and Albhy wrote two more. The monster from that record was “Islands in the Stream” by Barry, Maurice and Robin. The single went #1 in the US on the pop and country charts and was the best-selling single of 1983. “Buried Treasure,” also by the Gibbs, hit #3 on the country charts; “This Woman,” by Barry and Albhy, made the top 20 in pop and country. “Islands in the Stream” was the Bee Gees’ first #1 on the country charts. (Olivia Newton-John had taken their “Come on Over” to a country #5 in 1976.)
“They wrote [‘Islands in the Stream’] and they gave it to me,” Kenny Rogers said. “I sang it for four days and I finally turned to Barry and I said, ‘I don’t even like this song anymore.’ And like an epiphany, that quickly, he says, ‘We need Dolly Parton.’ And I said, ‘I don’t know Dolly,’ but my manager had run into her. So he said, ‘Let me call her.’ Forty-five minutes later she walked in the studio and she marched—you know, Dolly marches. She doesn’t walk. She came in the studio and that song was never the same and I give her full credit for it.”{590}
It seemed to studio insiders that Rogers was disengaged, especially in contrast to the obsessive Streisand. He seemed to do little preparation for the sessions, they said, and had difficultly learning his lyrics. He had to record his parts singing one line at a time. Barry was frustrated by Rogers’s lack of effort.{591}
RCA had acquired Rogers and Diana Ross. The industry at large regarded both as albatrosses who would never justify their outsized signing fees. Paul Atkinson, an executive at RCA said: “Those are artists that RCA took some heat for signing, but I think the sales figures have borne out the wisdom of the deals.”{592} The Gibbs had been called in as miracle workers on Rogers and had worked a miracle. They were hired to work another with Ross. Maurice said, “We thought, ‘Wouldn’t it be great to make a great Supremes record—we’ve got the lead singer!’”{593}
Barry, Karl and Albhy produced Diana Ross’s Eaten Alive in 1985. Michael Jackson came into the sessions to co-produce the title track; he and Barry sang background vocals on it. The Bee Gees wrote six songs on the LP; Andy joined them for one more; another is by Barry and George Bitzer; Barry, Albhy and Andy wrote one; and Barry and Maurice wrote “Eaten Alive,” later sharing songwriter credit with Michael Jackson. The LP reached #45 on the US charts. “Eaten Alive” reached #77 on the pop charts and #10 on the R&B charts. The production mimics Thriller and Ross imitates Jackson, singing in a breathy staccato. Jackson is listed as a background vocalist, but the voice on the verses sounds a lot more like him than Ross. The music is derivative, behind the times, as if the Bee Gees were recreating yesterday’s R&B tropes. Or, possibly, as if Ross had demanded that they make a clone of Michael Jackson’s hit sound.
“‘Chain Reaction,’ that’s my favourite,” Barry said. “We were so into Motown as kids. Diana Ross came to us and was quite surprised when we hit her with something retrospective of her own career, a respectable parody, as it were. She’s on the phone all the time asking us to do it again.”{594}
The Bee Gees released E.S.P. in September of 1987. Given their successful work for other artists, E.S.P. is shockingly weak, another collection of indistinguishable songs. But the single “You Win Again” went to #1 in the UK and elsewhere in Europe; it barely charted—hitting #75—in the US. The album, the Bee Gees’ first under a new long-term deal with Warner Brothers, went only to #76 in America.
One, written in the months after Andy’s death, was produced by the Bee Gees and Brian Tench and released in April of 1989. In May, the band launched their first tour in almost ten years, playing twenty dates in Europe. Barry was battling severe arthritis in his lower back and the shows were agony for him. He had to find the smallest, lightest guitar made; he could not bear the weight of his usual guitar. His back pain affected his vocal performance. Barry feared he might never tour again. “I’m 43 years old,” he said. “If I was a lawyer, I would be considered to be in the prime of my career. Why shouldn’t I be considered in the prime of my singing career? I have greater strength and control, my performances are better. Image shouldn’t determine what a good record is; it has to be the performance. That’s something I intend to prove.”{595}
> The album reached #68 in the US and #29 in the UK. The title track hit #7 on the US singles charts and was their best-selling single of the 1980s, logging ten weeks in the top 40. The rhythm tracks feature a combination of overproduced drum sounds associated with Michael Jackson and a “Jive Talkin’” melody.
Memories of Andy dominate the songwriting. Maurice, speaking of “Wish You Were Here,” said, “We were halfway through writing that song when we realised we were writing about Andy. Originally we planned to do this album with Andy, who had never been part of the Bee Gees. It was supposed to be four of us on the album cover. He was only 30, you think, ‘well, what happened?’ After Andy died, I found about 50 bottles of vodka under his bed. I mean, the guy was supposed to have been sober for two years! I guess he couldn’t take the pressure of being in England trying to do a solo album. He had a lot going on in his head that I don’t even know about.”{596}
Speaking to the lukewarm US sales, Barry said: “I’m not about to accept that the Bee Gees’ popularity died with the disco craze in 1980, because that music only represented two albums in our long career. It never revealed the whole picture of what we do.”{597}
High Civilization came out in April of 1991, reached #24 in the UK and went platinum worldwide but did not chart in the US. The Bee Gees had reached the end of their album commitment to Warner Brothers. The Gibb camp thought that Warners did not promote the record worth a damn. High Civilization is, by any reasonable standard, terrible.
In November of 1990, Warner Brothers released Tales from the Brothers Gibb: A History in Song. Organized into four chapters, it covers the Bees Gees from Bee Gees 1st to One, and totals seventy-one songs. The chapters, split into four CDs, cover 1967–70, 1971–74, 1975–79 and the 1980s. Given the Bee Gees’ mediocre output in the ’80s, it’s little wonder that one disc covers ten years of material.
The Bee Gees Page 29
