by Hector Cook
Charles Koppelman credits Barry’s ease in the role of producer as one of the reasons that everything went so smoothly. “If he’d walked in as ‘singer-star’ as opposed to producer, we could have had difficulties,” he explained.
But the credit must be shared by his co-producers, Albhy and Karl. “The record was pretty incredible,” Albhy enthused. “We did the demos, the way we do, with the drum machine and whatever, and then we hired a band and made a real record. We had never done that before. The Streisand demos are the first ones.”
Albhy recalled an early encounter with the singer. “I went to her house in Malibu — it was full of Tiffany stuff. I think this was the first time we met … She asked Barry what he’d like to drink, and he said, ‘I’d love a cup of tea.’ She said, ‘Oh, that sounds good, I’ll have one too.’ And in her style … a New York cup of tea … she’s like, ‘Oh, just bring one teabag and we can share it.’ ”
It was obviously a conciliatory gesture on Barbra’s part, but for Albhy, knowing Barry’s obsession with the perfect cup of tea, the moment was hysterical. “Barry, of course, would be too shy to say anything,” he laughed. “I don’t know how much you know about Barry’s tea ritual, but, I mean, they had a road case called scientific instruments that was full of tea-making gear … Electric kettles so you don’t burn the water, you pour boiling water over a tea bag … the tea doesn’t taste right if you don’t do that. So here’s Barry, tea being his ritual, and sharing it, doing it like you’re at Nedick’s*, they’d bring you two glasses of hot water and a tea bag to share.
“It was very funny. Being a New York Jew, I can totally understand, and knowing Barry very well, I can totally see these are two universes, and absolutely no way to translate!”
Shared teabags aside, the working relationship soon blossomed.
The demos were made with Barry singing the pilot vocals. Although the task was made easier by his facility with falsetto, differences between Barry’s style of singing and Barbra’s had to be overcome. “Barbra’s vocal ability is really a different style,” Albhy explained. “She didn’t listen to R&B music, she didn’t listen to rhythmic music, so she has … long time instead of short time; her sense of time is long phrasing. In Broadway theatre, great singers can do that … The other thing is pitch. Barry liked, if you were singing in E flat, he doesn’t slide into notes, except very rarely on purpose, he hits it. To him, people who slide into notes are like correcting, like you start low and you get up to there. For Barbra, it’s a style, and her pitch ends up being quite good, but she floats into notes, again, as a stylistic thing…” As Barry had said, it was definitely writing for a different instrument.
The results were incredible, according to Charles Koppelman. “I was always a Barry Gibb fan from way back,” he said. “When we talked about the collaboration, the idea was to go back to the old Barry Gibb songwriter of years back and all those wonderful old songs: ‘To Love Somebody’ and ‘Massachusetts’ and some great melodies.
“When I first heard Barry’s demos, I was blown away. I said to myself, ‘Holy mackerel, I sure hope Barbra will make me forget I ever heard Barry singing these songs.’ Well, that concern lasted about two minutes, until the first time Barbra opened her mouth to sing.”
“Barbra sings something once and it’s magic,” Barry raved. “You can’t cut into it or mess with it because each time she sings it’s good. We could tell about halfway through that we had something very different than she’d been doing and that it could be an extremely big album.”
Koppelman agreed. “As the album progressed, it became more and more a collective effort between Barbra and Barry. The whole thing kind of evolved into a real team involvement.”
The involvement carried on after working hours as well. Tom Kennedy recalled a pleasant evening at Barbra’s ranch home with some unexpected guests. “She was really very nice and she invited us to dinner,” he said. “I went along with Barry and Lynda, and afterwards we were just sitting around making small talk and rats started running around. Barry was about to say something, and I just nudged him. So when we were in the car on the way home, Barry said to Lynda, ‘Did you see the rats?’ She said, ‘What rats?’ and he said, ‘There were rats running along the wall — he saw them!’ and I said ‘Yeah, there were rats walking along the wall.’ She said, ‘Why didn’t you say something?’ I said, ‘I’m not going to tell Barbra Streisand she’s got rats — she’s one of the biggest stars in the world! You can’t tell her she’s got rats — it would have ruined the evening!’ We just laughed about it … She was a lot of fun, and Jon Peters was very nice, too.”
According to composer Mickey Leonard, Jon Peters and Charles Koppelman kept the world at bay during the recording sessions. “They had a guard posted outside the door to the studio,” he recalled. “I ran into Barbra and Koppelman in the parking lot one day. She was wonderful, very friendly. She mentioned a new song of mine that she had heard, but then Koppelman got nervous. She wanted to talk, but he said, ‘Oh, Barry’s waiting and he’ll be angry.’ So he led her away. It was as if he was afraid I’d give her some material without his sanction. To me that kind of behaviour is counterproductive, counter-creative, counter-everything.”
The cover design for Guilty had been planned almost from the start. Tony Lane from Columbia Records had decided that Barbra should be photographed in the studio, with a saint on one shoulder and a devil on the other.
Mario Casilli, a Hollywood photographer who had photographed Streisand for her Playboy cover and for her Wet LP, arrived at one of the recording sessions to take a few shots of the work in progress. “I wasn’t hired to shoot the cover … So when I got to the session I took some test shots, with no concept at all in mind,” he explained. “They were just production shots of her with Barry, wearing a white blouse and white slacks. She looked at the shots and said, ‘Let’s do more of these.’ ”
Tony Lane, realising that this was a perfect opportunity, said, “I figured we better do something … With Barbra in those days, you had to take advantage of whatever time you were given. Mario sent one of his assistants out for some white background paper. We decided to set up part of the recording studio as a photo studio. A messenger was sent over to Barry’s hotel to get his white shirt and slacks. It was rather quick and was the most offhand way of trying to do a cover.”
“There was no pressure from Barbra, from anyone,” Casilli said. “When you’re shooting for a cover, which we weren’t; well, that’s a tougher situation. We shot for about an hour. It was fun. Sometimes you’re lucky enough to ride on a wave. Something happens and you’ve got your camera going.”
Casilli went out to Barbra’s ranch with the processed slides from the photo session and his projector. Barbra was delighted with the results.
He recalled that she told him, “These photographs are so flattering to me. How the hell did you do that?”
He quickly responded, “Barbra, I’ve got to do something well. I can’t sing!”
Any thought of saints or devils was immediately set aside, and the “production shots” became the sleeve, with a generous set of the photos for the gatefold cover inside and out. The photos led to some speculation as to how close the pair had actually become, but Barry took pains to set the record straight. “My whole life revolves around my family. My wife Lynda and I have been married for 10 years and it gets better every year. She is just as beautiful as when I first met her. Barbra and I are both extremely happily married, she in her way to Jon. Our whole relationship was on a business level, although I’m happy to be as close to Barbra as I am.”
In total, Barbra recorded 11 Gibb compositions. Nine of the tracks appeared on the album. ‘Secrets’, perhaps too similar to ‘Woman In Love’ to use, and ‘Carried Away’ were later rejected but were released by Elaine Paige and Olivia Newton-John respectively. Barry, Albhy and Karl also produced Barbra singing Chuck Berry’s ‘Kansas City’ and The Beatles’ ‘Lady Madonna’, but these were also dropped from the final
LP.
In the 1985 biography, Barbra Streisand, The Woman, The Myth, The Music, one engineer on the project gave his views about the evolution of Barry and Barbra’s duet of ‘What Kind Of Fool’. “They kept overdubbing on that song and they still had a problem,” he alleged. “Barbra’s performance was so pure, so good — too good, in fact. She made Barry sound like an intrusion. She didn’t need his voice or any other voice on the song. Her advisors kept telling her, ‘Do it alone, drop Barry.’ But she wouldn’t. It was written as a duet, and the guy only had one other song to sing on the album, so she insisted that he stay with her. They must have overdubbed the thing 20 times in Los Angeles, and it was eventually finished at Media Sound in New York.”
But Albhy Galuten’s memory of events differs. “The other very interesting, amazing thing that I remember about that… I think this is correct, the duets were done after the fact. This record was put together by Charlie Koppelman — he was the executive producer … It was Barry’s idea to do the record, but it was Charlie’s idea that they should do some duets. Charlie’s probably all along thinking, ‘Barry’s a hot property, we should do some duets, it’ll make the record sell.’ None of the songs were originally planned as duets, so we ended up trying to figure out how to turn two songs into duets. Well, we converted the songs to duets after Barbra was gone. She had already come and sung.”
On ‘What Kind Of Fool’, a song written at the piano in Albhy’s house when Barry and Lynda had come to see his newborn son Jason, Albhy recalled that the complicated changes to make it a duet caused problems with the sound of the drums. Steve Gadd played drums on the bridge, but for the main part of the song, the drummer credited was a certain Bernard Lupe.
“The track never really felt right, so we ended up using our famous drum loop,” Albhy explained, referring to the tape loop from Saturday Night Fever. “It’s very quiet. It was not an important part; it was meant to be just keeping time.”
Barry and Albhy chose the pieces, but it fell to Karl to put them together without any tell-tale noise on the tape. “The pitch changes and the meter changes were so complicated that while we were doing it in the studio, it took Karl at least a hundred hours separately just to perform the punches so they wouldn’t click and pop.”
Barry would later say, “The album represented six months work for me, and two weeks for Barbra,” but he modestly added, “I’d have to say at least 80 per cent of the success of the record belongs to her.”
All the hard work paid off — the result was an album which would produce three American Top 10 singles over the following nine months.
The initial set of songs by Barry and Robin included the lead-off single ‘Woman In Love’, a verse-chorus ballad “in the Russian modalities” as the New York Times reviewer put it. Barbra’s voice rides up and down on the melody, sustaining the long notes in the chorus, and it was a quick hit. The quiet reuse of the ‘Stayin’ Alive’ drum loop may have given it a subconscious familiarity. Many people think Barry sings the high backing but he does not; it is girl singers on this song. Released in August, ‘Woman In Love’ topped the charts in Britain, Australia and the United States and was a Top Five hit in Norway.
The two duets by Barry and Barbra became the second and third singles, partly to capitalise on the collaboration, but mainly on the merits. ‘Guilty’, the only song on the album written by all three Gibb brothers, is set to an island beat, with Barbra and Barry soloing the first and second verses, and together in the choruses. Barry sings the back-up, therefore backing his own lead vocal in places. The single was released in October, reaching number three in the US, but only achieving number 34 in the UK.
The third single, ‘What Kind Of Fool’, is a more sophisticated song by Barry and Albhy with some nice interplay between the two voices singing solo and together. Barry uses both natural voice and falsetto, and Barbra goes from quiet control at the start to her loudest stage voice, which could have overwhelmed Barry’s voice but never does. ‘What Kind Of Fool’ was released in January, reaching the number 10 spot in the US but failing to place in Britain.
A fourth single was tried, ‘Promises’ by Barry and Robin, the most up-tempo song of the nine on the album. Side one ends with the traditional song that is hard to follow, ‘The Love Inside’, a slow piano song by Barry that Barbra sings beautifully and with great feeling. The only song not written specifically for the project, it dates from the Spirits Having Flown period when it was given a copyright by all four Gibb brothers, but must have been almost entirely Barry’s song from the start as indicated in the revised credit.
“The album itself was the biggest album she’d ever had, as a studio album,” Maurice said. “It sold in countries where she couldn’t sell before … so it really broke a lot of ground for her.” Guilty reached number one in 15 different countries, including Russia. With sales of over eight million, the profits from the album carried Columbia Records over its recession slump.
With that sort of success, Barry speculated on future collaborations. “I’m pretty sure we could follow it with an even better album because we know each other better,” he said.
Although Charles Koppelman and Jon Peters were equally willing, “Barbra does not like to repeat herself” was the official final word at that time. Through the years since then, the possibility has been bandied about, but to date, there has been no firm commitment.
* * *
Early in 1980, Maurice entered a private clinic in California seeking treatment for his alcoholism, but the recurrence of an old back problem caused a necessary hiatus. “He was actually in a clinic for addiction in Santa Barbara, and Yvonne refused to go with him, so I went as his family member,” Tom Kennedy explained. “His back went out, and he wasn’t even allowed painkillers. They actually thought it might be…aploy to get some sort of medicine … It got so bad, he was like an old man …”
The doctors’ examination proved that this was no mere chicanery and that Maurice would need to have a disc removed. Obviously, the surgery could not be carried out without the use of painkillers so he left the programme at Pinecrest Hospital, and Maurice and Tom flew back to Miami. Maurice had initial concerns about the risks of the surgery, fearing that he would never walk again, but the doctors reassured him.
“He had the operation in Santa Barbara, and true to their word, they had him up the same day,” Tom recalled. “He did go back into the programme, and Yvonne went there with him.”
Barry’s back injury would come later, occurring during a friendly tennis match with the group’s personal manager, Dick Ashby. Like Maurice, Barry had long suffered with back pain, the legacy of various accidents in his youth, but he managed to get along with only pain-killing injections.
Maurice had barely recovered from the surgery when The Bee Gees received a staggering professional blow. Ronald H. Selle, an amateur songwriter from Illinois, filed a lawsuit against the group accusing them of stealing his tune, ‘Let It End’ for ‘How Deep Is Your Love’.
Selle claimed that in May 1978, he was out raking his lawn when a neighbour’s son put on the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack. “I heard what was my music,” he alleged. Hiring lawyer Allen Engerman, he filed suit against The Bee Gees, Paramount Pictures and PolyGram.
For the brothers, who have always considered themselves songwriters before anything else, it was probably the most painful accusation anyone could make about them. They would have to live with the allegations for the next four years.
* * *
Robin’s 12-year marriage was rapidly becoming a casualty of the group’s resurgence between 1975 and 1979. The marriage was the longest running of the three brothers, but judging by various statements made on behalf of both parties, it was apparent the relationship was finally on the rocks. The first hint that something might be amiss had come in 1978 when Robin said, “Molly wants to stay at home and won’t travel around, so there’s some tension. But she’s a human being too. I don’t own her.”
On May 22, 1980, Moll
y told reporters, “I have hardly seen Robin for the past three years, and I have sadly come to the conclusion that our marriage is over. There is no one else involved, but there comes a point when a woman has to say she has had enough. I have filed for divorce and the papers are due to be served tomorrow.
“The more successful the group became, the less I saw of Robin,” she added. “It’s really due to the pressures of the pop business and the length of time Robin is now away. When we married, Robin was not such a big star and life was easier to manage.”
Robin was not immediately available for contact, but The Bee Gees’ lawyer, Michael Eaton, said on his behalf, “I know Robin does not want the marriage dissolved. He is in Britain, but I have not been able to contact him.”
Tom Kennedy said sympathetically, “Molly’s a nice person. Down to earth would be the best way to describe her. She’s done a very good job of bringing up Robin’s children. A forthright lady, who would call a spade a spade … She was a strong-willed person, obviously, and I think she was what Robin needed at the time …”
Acknowledging the problems of the long distance marriage they had maintained for so many years, he added, “Of course, he was away a lot of the time, and when they had the children, she brought them up on her own … The discipline came from Molly … because Robin would spoil them because he didn’t see them all that of ten. There were times when she was living in [England] and he was a tax exile. It was a difficult existence.”
While Molly maintained, “I do not want to air private grievances in public and I hope everyone will respect our wish for privacy through this difficult time,” Robin countered, “I think her announcement is a little premature. We are still talking, and it is too soon to say if we are heading for a divorce.”
A close family friend revealed, “This hit Robin like a hammer blow. He would do anything to get back with Molly. He misses the kids very much. If Molly names her terms, Robin is so anxious to get back with her that he’d accept them.”