Every once in a great while, there is a band that reaches such monumental fame based on a legitimate abundance of talent that, through no fault of their own, they become almost universally despised - victims of their own overexposure. Occasionally, they might write songs with prophetic titles like "Tragedy" or "Turning Tide," or even hammer the final nail in the coffin themselves - making a movie, for instance, with Peter Frampton, and butchering some of the rock's most beloved music in the process ("It seemed like a…entire summary
Dennis Bryon - drums
Barry Gibb - vocals, guitar
Maurice Gibb - vocals, bass
Robin Gibb - vocals
Joe Lala - percussion
Joey Murcia - guitar
Alan Kendall - guitar
Blue Weaver - keyboards
Geoff Westley - keyboards
Peter Balin - tenor sax
Kenneth Faulk - trumpet
Jeff Kievit - trumpet
Whit Sidener - alto sax
Stanley Webb - baritone sax
Every once in a great while, there is a band that reaches such monumental fame based on a legitimate abundance of talent that, through no fault of their own, they become almost universally despised - victims of their own overexposure. Occasionally, they might write songs with prophetic titles like "Tragedy" or "Turning Tide," or even hammer the final nail in the coffin themselves - making a movie, for instance, with Peter Frampton, and butchering some of the rock's most beloved music in the process ("It seemed like a good idea at the time - Steve Martin and Aerosmith were there!").
Poor, poor Bee Gees. Forever remembered for falsetto vocals and white satin bell bottomed trousers, the Brothers Gibb actually first gained notoriety as a top-notch psych-pop outfit in the late '60s, while they were still barely in their twenties. The momentum begun during this period proved difficult to maintain into the following decade, and by the mid-'70s things were drying up commercially. Enter DISCO!! Defying all reason, when Barry, Robin and Maurice embraced that maligned urban dance format, it was a total smash and, owing to their awesome fashion accoutrement, provided a soundtrack for fraternity dress-up theme parties for decades to come.
It's here, just after the colossal success of "Jive Talkin'" and "You Should Be Dancing" but preceding Saturday Night Fever, that the King Biscuit Flower Hour caught up with the boys in L.A. The sheer variety of this set may cause even the most hardened disco-phobes to re-evaluate their position. The band delivers powerful renditions of their early chart-toppers alongside crowd-pleasing contemporary hits; and the Bonaroo Horns and Blue Weaver's boogying keys lending especially potent embellishment.
Obvious ridicule and pigeon-holing aside, The Bee Gees possessed amazing foresight in the direction of popular music and the surplus of ability and raw soul necessary to follow it. That their distinctive, early ambitions had an early expiration date is unfortunate, but nothing compared to the unfair flogging they have received for nothing more than singing songs and making people dance. So indulge in a guilty pleasure - it's high time they had their due.
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