by Hector Cook
Ella apart, the group’s growing number of fans had to wait only two months ’til May 1963 for their next song to be released. It wasn’t by the Gibbs themselves on this occasion but by their mentor at the time Col Joye. Joye recorded one of the songs he had first heard Barry play the year previously back on the Gold Coast. Col recorded Barry’s ‘(Underneath The) Starlight Of Love’ as the B-side to his ‘Put ’em Down’ single on Festival records. More than 35 years later, ‘(Underneath The) Starlight Of Love’ remains a bright, cleverly produced song well sung by Joye that is a nice testament to an emerging but still young and learning songwriter. It was a considerable feather in 16-year-old Barry Gibb’s cap to have one of the country’s top performers record his material and its release gave Col the distinction of being the first artist anywhere to cover the Gibbs’ material. Before the decade was over other singers, including Elvis Presley, Nina Simone, Wayne Newton and many many more, would join him.
Meanwhile Andy, aged four, was already considering his own career options. He wanted to be either a doctor or a Bee Gee. Hugh and Barbara expressed their preference that he should pursue the latter option. “He sings in perfect pitch with the boys when they’re practising,” enthused Barbara, “and we’d like him, one day, to join the group.”
‘If at first you don’t succeed, try, try, and try again’ goes the old saying and, over the next three years, nobody would accuse the boys of any lack of effort. On July 29, they did indeed try again.
With the benefit of hindsight, Robin wonders whether their next release was the right choice in the circumstances. “We went back into the studio and cut our second one, ‘Timber’, which did exactly what the title suggested!” While it certainly comes across as being somewhat trite today, the A-side’s lyrics of ‘Timber baby ’cos I’m a falling for you’ were actually reflective of the period. One group, Steve & The Board, even went so far as to entitle their 1965 LP I Call My Woman ‘Hinges’ Cause She’s Got Something
To Adore. In contrast to their first effort, ‘Timber’ was an extremely up-tempo number and sounds almost like a 33 rpm record being played at 45 rpm speed. Produced by Robert Iredale, this time without the studio assistance of Col Joye, and with a time of only 1.46 minutes, it was almost over by the time it began.
This time, Festival’s generosity in providing “orchestral” backing, sounding suspiciously like a solitary violin, was limited to the A-side only, and it would be over a year before the budget-conscious label would see fit to do so again. On the reverse side was ‘Take Hold Of That Star’, a rather impressive ballad where the trio’s harmonies are well to the fore. This is a fine song with an almost Fifties feel to it. The arrangement is entirely different to that on ‘Timber’ with Barry’s first instrumental contribution of strummed guitar, a lounge-style piano, and string bass and drums suggesting that it came from a different recording session. The evident maturity of Barry’s full vocal during the solo bridge section, belies the fact that he is still only sixteen years of age. Unfortunately, it was consigned to the anonymity of the reverse side and remained generally unheard.
For this release, the group had discovered their third and final variation of their name by dropping the hyphen. “The Bee Gees” would serve them well, lasting to the end of the century and beyond.
Perhaps, at that age, their songs relied too heavily on visual presentation because they continued to go down well whenever they had their audience in front of them. In September, 1963, they appeared at their first Sydney 2UW Spectacular, a four-hour concert at Lane Cove National Park sponsored by a local radio station. Over 40,000 were in attendance to watch not only The Bee Gees but Warren Williams, Lonnie Lee, Col Joye & The Joy Boys, Johnny Rebb, Laurel Lea & The DeKroo Brothers, Judy Stone and Noeleen Batley.
They must have acquitted themselves well because they were invited back to another Spectacular just four months later, early in the new year. The bill saw the return of The Bee Gees, Warren Williams (this time with The Courtmen), Johnny Rebb, Judy Stone and Noeleen Batley being joined by The Atlantics, The Dave Bridge Trio, The Denvermen, Johnny Devlin and Digger Revell. During the remainder of their time in Australia, some of these names would become even more familiar to the brothers.
In between these two concerts, Robin and Maurice left school on December 22, at the close of term immediately before their fourteenth birthday. However, the education authorities were firmly of the belief that their departure coincided with the approach of their fifteenth birthday, the strictly enforced minimum legal school leaving age. Indeed, all three brothers had been economical with the truth about their ages for some time and many press cuttings from this period and beyond all quote their ages as a year older than they actually were. Defending accusations that they received virtually no education at all, Maurice gives the game away. “We actually did fill some forms out and passed some tests and left at 13. The school said, ‘They can’t concentrate – they’re too involved in show business.’ In fact, a lot of people say to us, ‘Don’t you think you feel a bit left out not having a normal childhood?’ I had a fantastic childhood because all the people we mixed with were adults, so we heard dirty jokes long before we should have and all the bad language!”
Encouraged by the success of their 2UW Spectacular appearances, the boys bounced back into the studio, the resulting recordings appearing as their third single on February 10, 1964. Robin is dismissive in his recollection of the event. “So we went back to the studio … to record a follow-up, ‘Peace Of Mind’, which didn’t give us any when it flopped!” The lack of success was despite an attempt on Festival’s part to boost sales by cashing in on Barry’s growing popularity with young teenage girls and also to reflect his status in the group. Nonetheless, the new release by “Barry Gibb & The Bee Gees” was to suffer the same fate as its predecessors! This was something of a shame, as the Mersey influenced ‘Peace Of Mind’ deserved to be appreciated by a wider audience. Sounding less like children, it had a raunchier, more adult feel to it, highlighted by a couple of screams not dissimilar to those heard on some Beatles songs of that period. A lead guitar augments the now usual Barry on rhythm guitar, and string bass and drums.
By 1964, The Beatles sound had well and truly hit Australia. While The Bee Gees unique harmonies had actually predated The Beatles, the success of the Liverpool band certainly gave The Bee Gees the impetus and confidence to use their own harmonies in a more R&B style.
However, in stark contrast, for the first time but certainly not for the last, they ventured into country and western territory on the B-side with yet another Barry Gibb composition. ‘Don’t Say Goodbye’ is a much slower paced number with piano, Barry on guitar, string bass and a coconut-like percussion.
By now, itchy feet had got the better of the family again, and they settled within the city boundaries at Lane Cove, on the north side of the Parramatta River that divides Sydney. The Bee Gees were also starting to appear in the local Sydney newspapers, not only because of the “singing brothers” aspect, but also focusing on teenager Barry’s songwriting success.
According to Belinda Music’s promotion manager of the time, Tony Brady, between September 1963 and March 1964 Barry had 12 songs recorded by other artists. “This makes him one of the few songwriters in Sydney who has material constantly recorded. He has the greatest potential of any songwriter in Australia. In fact, I’d go so far as to say he could become the first Australian songwriter to make a living from composer’s royalties alone. Barry is one of the few songwriters in Sydney who can satisfy this great demand from the record companies.”
Tony continued by revealing that one of Barry’s latest compositions, ‘One Road’ was being reviewed by 19 record companies in America, “And we expect it to be recorded by at least three or four companies. If the song becomes a hit in the States, Barry could earn up to £2,000 from this song alone.”
To an impressionable young man, such a glowing tribute could have been the catalyst to breaking out on his own, but Barry had no though
ts of leaving his brothers behind. “The two careers are equally necessary to me. Without either one I would be dissatisfied. [I began songwriting] to express a desire to create rather than copy the songs I sang.” Barry did concede that the royalties money lay in the pop field, but this had not prevented him from trying his hand at ballads and semi-classical music. In fact, he had just completed work on a piano concerto, the whimsically titled ‘Concerto With No Name’.
Another song, said to be written from around this time, has recently surfaced. Entitled ‘Double Dating’, it comes from a scrapbook kept by one of their most fervent fans from that period. There is no doubting, whatsoever, Dorothy Gliksman’s credentials – there are many examples of letters written to the radio stations and music press by her in those early years, requesting more airplay of The Bee Gees’ music – and she states quite clearly that she can recall the song being gifted to her by Barry in 1964. So far, Barry has declined the opportunity to validate the claim that ‘Double Dating’ is indeed one of his compositions but, then again, he hasn’t denied it either.
Although typed, and without music, the word “Love” is written at the bottom, accompanied by a signature which could indeed be Barry’s. If this is the case, the song’s lyrics provide a fascinating insight not only into Barry’s thought process towards his brothers at the time, but also the extent to which his spelling had suffered from such a fragmented education. Indeed, future manager Robert Stigwood, asked what it was about the group that he found so appealing, would state: “This may sound corny,” he replied, “but it’s their poetry. These boys are completely uneducated. They don’t even know how to spell. They write the lyrics out spelled phonetically. And the simple poetry of the words appeals to the public.”
Spelling mistakes and grammar aside, “Double Dating,” whoever wrote it, is actually a fine example of uncomplicated poetry.
DOUBLE DATEING
Now we are twin bothers and when things are done
We do them together we do them as one
But I have a girlfreind and he has one to
So we go double dating what else can we do
Chorus
Double dating theres nothing like this
When you can’t help but wink at your twin brothers miss
And when hes not lookinn your stealin a kiss
Double dating thers nothing like this
Chorus
Well we drive through the city with the big burnin lights
Lookin fir somewhere to have a good night
We don’t want a movie we don’t want a show
We just wanna go where the lights are down low
Chorus
Now there can be trouble if you have a twin
And theres no telling what kind of trouble your in
Yes we have a problem our heads in a whirl
For we are in love with each others girl.
And
Chorus
In the circumstances, unless an out and out denial is forthcoming, ‘Double Dating’ could be regarded as an original Barry Gibb composition.
By now the boys were said to be earning £150 a week for their regular slots on Bandstand which had seen their recent repertoire extended to include performances of ‘Please Please Me’, ‘Blowin’ In The Wind’, ‘Da Doo Ron Ron’, ‘Little Band Of Gold’, ‘I Want You To Want Me’ and the classic ‘Hilly Billy Ding Dong Choo Choo’! While £150 might sound like a lot of money for those days, with so many hungry mouths to feed in the Gibb household, the boys didn’t have that much left for themselves by the time all the bills got paid. Regular performances on other popular television shows ensured that they were becoming increasingly well known across Australia.
In an unusual display of optimism, Festival elected to release their first EP comprising the four tracks from their first two “flops”. Entitled The Bee Gees, the disc was contained in a picture sleeve cover which showed the three brothers identically dressed in white shirts with dark ties, dark trousers, black “winkle-picker” shoes and tartan waistcoats. The waistcoats were augmented by “BG” lettering on the left breasts which would become a trademark of their TV appearances over the next two years.
In Brisbane, they were feted in April 1964 by the local Channel 9 who offered them a half-hour special in a move designed to persuade them to transfer their loyalties from Channel 7. They were not always so highly regarded by their new suitors as Barry J. Whalen, writing in On Air, a book to commemorate the twenty-fifth anniversary of TV in Queensland, reveals:
“I was watching their first try-out for Brisbane Tonight with Wilbur Kentwell, Nine’s musical director … We watched The Bee Gees thump through a couple of numbers and I asked him: ‘What do you think of ’em, Wilbur?’ Wilbur tugged his lower lip, then said with great deliberation, ‘They’ll never make it – they can’t even carry a tune.’ Oh well, that’s show biz!” Wilbur would see the error of his ways at their second audition and they became regulars on the show thereafter.
Their TV special brought them into contact with a record producer called Nat Kipner, an American brought out to Australia by Festival Records to be their A & R (Artists & Repertoire) man. Nat was also talent co-ordinator and producer of the television show Saturday Date, another programme that The Bee Gees had regularly appeared on. His natural energy and drive, matched with his enthusiasm for The Bee Gees and their songwriting skills, were to have a big impact on the Gibb brothers’ achievements over the next few years.
Another name that kept cropping up throughout the duration of the Gibbs’ stay in Australia was that of Johnny O’Keefe. Host of Sing, Sing, Sing he was more responsible than anyone for the brothers’ appearances on that show. One show in particular, broadcast during the second week of June, 1964, is of special interest.
Even in those days, it was not uncommon for artists to mime to recordings of current hits, which they would tape at a studio a few days prior to actual filming. In October, 1983, 42-year-old Bill McSorley came across some oddly labelled records at a garage sale in the Sydney suburb of Rushcutters Bay. He was recommended to world renowned Australia rock historian Glenn A. Baker who was able to confirm that Bill had discovered original Festival acetates of rare and priceless pre-recordings for O’Keefe’s show.
The acetates contain Bee Gees performances of ‘From Me To You’ (Lennon & McCartney), ‘Can’t You See That She’s Mine’ (Smith & Clark), ‘Yesterday’s Gone’ (Stuart & Kidd), ‘Just One Look’ (Payne & Carroll) and ‘Abilene’ (Brown, Gibson, Loudermilk & Stanton). Although it took several years of negotiation, and much work to clean up the sound to an acceptable level, the first four listed of the five recordings were made available on a compilation CD in 1998.
By now the Gibb family had moved yet again. Their International Fan Club was receiving 500 letters per week at their new residence at 8 Kent Street, Bronte, just south of the famous Bondi Beach, on the south side of the Parramatta River. Their rise in popularity was due in part to exposure in teenage magazines which often featured the obligatory “fact file” type information. Here you could read that Barry was into The Mills Brothers and The Shadows, loved go-kart racing and deep-sea diving, wanted to reach worldwide standards in his own right and preferred small blondes. Robin was a fan of Roy Orbison and The Tornados, also liked go-kart racing and was fond of small redheads. His ambition was to tour the world in his own right. Maurice, or “Morrie” as he was becoming known, listened to The Beach Boys and The Preachers and his preference was for small brunettes, with big soft jumpers. His ambition was linked to his hobby … to win a go-kart race! Such “star dossiers” also revealed that “they design all their own clothing and shoes,” a statement they would have done well to disassociate themselves from on occasion.
Of even more interest was the identity of their fan club secretary, Miss M. Bates, c/o the same Bronte address. Maureen Elaine Bates, a small blonde, was born on April 30, 1947. Her mother, a Watson by birth, had settled with her husband in Birmingham but, in an amazing coincidence,
the Bates family also emigrated to Australia in 1958, although it would probably be stretching things a bit far to suggest that they may have shared the same ship as the Gibbs. Lesley and Maureen used to dance on the same Australian TV show, and this was how she came to be introduced to Barry. Her title of “fan club secretary” disguised the fact that Barry was in love again, and this time there would be no leaving her behind. When he moved, she moved.
Romance was also in the air for Robin who had a girlfriend called Margaret whom Lesley described at the time as being from a rather rich family. She also revealed that her brother was reluctant to express his feelings to a girl lest she made fun of him. Margaret didn’t seem to bother too much about the lack of affection, showering Robin with gifts. She bought him a ring which he merely commented on as being a bit striking. A complete leather travelling set was apparently useless – in those days he never used a brush – while he also received an expensive watch. Apparently, even then, Robin had a loathing of appointments. No problem to our Margaret … she sent a taxi from her Lidcombe home to collect him.
Perhaps Margaret’s attraction to Robin stemmed from the physical side of their relationship; either Lesley was completely unaware of the extent of it or it was Robin’s bravado talking when he alleged, “We screwed every night!”
The incident that Lesley felt best summed up Robin’s apathy towards his relationship with her was when he spent an entire evening in front of the TV, hardly uttering a word to Margaret. When he grew tired of watching, he asked her to fetch him another glass of milk, which he drank before heading straight to bed. Not surprisingly, as soon as she met a boy who was nice to her in return, Margaret promptly disappeared from Robin’s life.