Hello I’m Stevie Nix and welcome to Song Sung New, the podcast that takes a song and … sees if there are any covers that somebody would love. Somebody like you.
[Song]
Thanks Adele, but I said Somebody - as in To Love Somebody, not someone.
Now, where were we. Oh yes. To Love Somebody.
Today’s song - the first song we’re going to look at - is a bit of ear candy, courtesy of The Bee Gees before they inexplicably decided to go
[Song]
… high pitch.
Today’s song sounds like it’s by a different band. And in some ways it was.
Just as The Beatles evolved from Please Please Me to, say, Happiness Is A Warm Gun, or The Beach Boys evolved from Surfin’ USA to Heroes & Villains, The Bee Gees also morphed into something untethered from their past.
But the difference was, where The Beatles and The Beach Boys and virtually everyone else matured and got better, The Bee Gees went the other way.
From the sublime to the … well, this
[Song]
No wonder she left home.
Today, we’re dealing with the The Bee Gees’ first phase. A period of songwriting that was the equal of almost everyone at that time.
And that time was 1967.
In 1967, the Bee Gees were a five-piece band. Which doesn’t really make them the Bee Gees, when you think about it, given Bee Gee stands for Brothers Gibb and two of the members of the band weren’t Gibbs.
But let’s not squabble over minor details about the band. Better instead to squabble over minor details of today’s song, which was just the second the band had released to that point - the first being New York Mining Disaster 1941.
[Song]
Yes, that song.
Actually, did you notice the basic guitar strumming on that track? It would also be a feature of today’s song too.
Now we’ve all been in love at one point or another and most of us have experienced unrequited love – and this partly explains the appeal and longevity of today’s song – and why so many artists have covered it.
At last count, the number is well over 200. Not bad for a song written by a
20-year-old and his 18-year-old kid brother.
Most songs are a product of their time, and this song is no different. Listen to it and you can pick it’s been recorded in the mid-to-late 60s.
If you had to pick a year to make your international debut, 1967 may not have been top of the list. Although Pink Floyd and David Bowie introduced themselves that year.
By and large though, 1967 was the year of The Heavyweight. The Beatles, the Stones, Dylan, The Doors, Cream, Aretha Franklin, Jimi Hendrix, The Kinks, The Who, Velvet Underground … they all released signature albums that are still being played today.
Amongst all this attention-grabbing music battling for radio airspace and lounge room turntables came the unheralded debut of a slightly goofy-looking British band of brothers – The Bee Gees.
The B What?
And if the name didn’t grab you – and it didn’t – their first album, released on July 14, was titled Bee Gees First.
Has there ever been a meeker start to a recording career? At least they were optimistic. “First” implies there was more to come, and there was – but do we really don’t want to talk about 1981’s Living Eyes?
[Song]
Here’s a bit of trivia: Living Eyes was the first album to be manufactured on CD for demonstration purposes.
Really? I mean, is that the best they could come up with? Even the Bee Gees didn’t rate that record.
Anyway, we digress. And it won’t be the last time.
Bee Gees 1st wasn’t in fact the Bee Gees first album – if you count the records it released in Australia - and, given I’m Australian, I do - Bee Gees 1st was their third. But it earned its title courtesy of the fact it was the group’s first international release.
Mmmm
Now the only reason this record rates a mention here is because of track three, side two. Like most albums of its era, the very best songs were saved for track three.
Why? Well you’d opened strongly with the first track – in this case New York Mining Disaster 1941, try to maintain the momentum for the second track (Cucumber Castle – I’ve never heard of it either) and deliver your KO on track three. The Bee Gees just decided to do it on Side 2, not side 1.
Why? Hey it was their first album, they were still working it all out.
Barry and brother Robin wrote To Love Somebody for Otis Redding. Apparently Redding had seen the band perform and asked Barry to write him a song, which Barry duly did.
What was he going to do? Say no to Otis Redding? Barry Gibb was a nobody. And here’s Otis Redding – Otis Redding! – asking for a song.
And Baz knew Redding wouldn’t sing just any kind of song. Redding had pedigree. Try A little Tenderness, I’ve Been Loving You Too Long, Respect – these were soul staples.
Barry had his work cut out.
There was only one thing Barry could do and that was to grab his brother, go to a room, shut the door and not come out until they had a song worthy of Otis’s attention. How hard could it be?
No one knows how long it took Barry and Robin to come up with this song, or what, if anything, they took to produce something they were hitherto incapable of writing, but whatever was involved, the end certainly justified the means.
It would be their signature song for the next 10 years. It would be their signature song until someone grabbed Barry by the balls and he found his falsetto. It would be their signature song until this became their signature song.
[Song]
We had to invent punk to kill that song off.
Speaking of killing, death also haunted To Love Somebody. Tragically, Otis Redding died before he got the chance to record it, which is a shame because it would have been interesting to see what he brought to the song.
Fair chance he would have dispersed with the strings.
[Song]
So in March of 1967, the Gibb Brothers - plus Vince Melowney on rhythm guitar and Colin Petersen on drums - entered IBC Studios in London and cut the track in a single session.
It came out four months later, one month after Reddings’ funeral, but only made it to number 41 in the UK charts and number 17 in the US. That’s not very high for a song that has lasted so long. Maybe it was the strings. Maybe it was the teeth. Hard to say.
Anyway, whatever. So what do you think this song is about? A lover, right? An ex. A girl who just doesn’t get how much this guy is into her.
Well, no.
To Love Somebody is about … PAUSE… To Love Somebody is about the Bee Gee’s manager, Robert Stigwood.
Just stop and think about that for a second.
If Elton John (well, technically Bernie Taupin) had written a song like this for his manager, John Reid, you’d understand because Elton is gay.
[Song]
But Barry isn’t gay. So what’s going on there?
In 2001, Barry told Mojo magazine: “To Love Somebody was for Robert. He meant a great deal to me. I don't think it was a homosexual affection, but a tremendous admiration for this man's abilities and gifts.”
Mmmm. I’m not so sure. I’m sensing a little homosexual affection, as Barry put it.
And there’s nothing wrong with that - each to their own - but how in the hell does Robert Stigwood inspire a guy to write
“I'm a man
Can't you see what I am?
I live and I breathe for you, but what good does it do if I ain't got you?”
And that’s tremendous admiration, quote unquote not homosexual affection?
Anyway … Barry rated the song. When asked in 2017 to name the best song he’d ever written, he barely drew breath before nominating To Love Somebody.
He said it had "a clear, emotional message". And he’s right, to a degree. Some of the lyrics are a little wobbly, which we’ll get to, but you do get the gist of what he’s trying to say.
In a nutshell this is a song of yearning. Longing. Of wanting, desperately wanting, but not having. How could it not strike a universal chord?
For mine, though, the song’s strength doesn’t lie with Barry’s words, it’s all to do with the melody.
Listen to this song today, 50-plus years later, and it’s impossible not to be seduced by its simplicity. It contains chords any musical novice can play – A, Bm, D, E and G – and a chorus to kill for.
And speaking of simplicity, as I said before, there’s some pretty rudimentary guitar strumming on this track.
Listen again to the opening.
[Song]
A song has to be pretty good to survive all these imperfections – rote lyrics, elemental instrumentation … and those strings.
And yet.
And yet To Love Somebody rises above all that. It’s not a perfect song, but by pop’s standards, it’s pretty good. Actually, it’s better than pretty good. It’s pretty great, actually.
The opening line hooks you and everything that follows doesn’t let you go, particularly the chorus.
In fact, the chorus is brilliant – it stands shoulder to shoulder with the very best of its era. It builds and builds and then … it breathes a sigh.
[Song]
OK, so let’s have a look at these lyrics. As I said earlier, in Barry’s defence, he was only 21 when he wrote them and the guy sitting opposite him was 18. They didn’t have a lot of life experience. Or someone to say “try again”.
And that probably explains the second verse, which really could have done with a second opinion:
In my brain I see your face again
I know my frame of mind
You ain't got to be so blind
And I'm blind, so, so, so blind.
Jesus.
Fortunately the first verse is much better.
The opening line - “There's a light, a certain kind of light, that never shone on me.” - is a killer opening line. But take a listen to how Barry sings it.
[Play song]
Did you notice how tentative he was with the first few words? Let’s listen again.
[Song]
Fortunately he quickly recovers and ploughs on, but why didn’t the producer call cut and get him to start again?
We’ll go into a little more detail on said producer shortly.
The rest of the first verse carries on without any further blemishes.
But the second verse, as I said earlier, wasn’t quite up to scratch.
“In my brain I see your face again,” isn’t exactly Wordsworth. But Barry Gibb wasn’t alone on this score. Even the greats - the Gods - have lyrics I’m sure they’d like to take back.
People such as Paul McCartney.
[Song]
But we digress. Again.
I wonder what would Otis Redding have said about some of these lyrics?
I know what Otis would have said. He would have said:
[Song]
And we do, Otis. We do.
He might have also told the Bee Gees to get another producer. One who didn’t think adding strings to everything was obligatory. Because it isn’t. Sometimes they get in the way. Distract you from the prime ingredients. Have a listen to Let It Be Naked.
So who was the producer, anyway? Well, believe it or not, it’s actually Mr Robert Stigwood. The Bee Gees’ manager. The guy to whom Barry sings “I live and breathe for you”.
But it’s not homosexual affection, remember.
What’s Stigwood’s musical credentials? And, more to the point, how much did he pay himself, with your money Bee Gees, to be producer?
And it’s not as if he did you any favours with the mix. For a start he could have asked Barry to step a little closer to the microphone – especially at the start – and sing with some conviction.
I guess he didn’t want him spoiling his string arrangements.
For all of its faults To Love Somebody did get noticed though. And it got noticed in all the right places. Within three years it had been covered 24 times - and by artists such as Nina Simone, The Animals and Janis Joplin.
I’m going to go out on a limb and say Stigwood’s favourite cover would be Lulu’s in 1967. This song has more strings than a tennis racquet factory but, that aside, it’s pretty much a carbon copy so we’ll move on.
[Song]
I said we’ll move on.
The Animals, who were always on the lookout for songs to Animalise, recorded a cover in 1968.
One of the things that stands out in their version is that single guitar strum. Rather than bury it in the mix, they instead bring it out front and centre.
[Song]
I’m not sure it was a good idea, though. This version runs for close to seven minutes and has one or two hallmarks worth calling out. One is the fact they open with the chorus, although it acts as more of an entrée rather than being part of the main meal …
[Song]
… there’s also female harmonies …
[Song]
… and an extended break mid-song that dovetails into all the singers – Eric Burdon and the backing vocalists, who go uncredited – singing off against each other …
[Song]
For mine it’s the best part of the song and well worth the five and a half minute wait.
In 1969, another band of brothers - America’s Chambers Brothers, a quasi soul/blues band from Mississippi - gave it a straight run-through, a bit of karaoke if you like.
And, while they didn’t sound like they were extending themselves, there’s still something about this version I like. Particularly the ending.
[Song]
Whitney Houston’s mother, Cissy, used to be in a very versatile all-girl R&B/soul/gospel group called The Sweet Inspirations. They began their career as back up singers for artists such as Aretha Franklin, Solomon Burke and Wilson Pickett and, in 1967, sang back-up on Van Morrison’s mega-hit Brown Eyed Girl.
[Song]
This was a group in high demand. Jimi Hendrix booked them for his Electric Ladyland sessions and they even recorded and toured with Elvis Presley.
By 1969, Cissy Houston was done. She wanted to pursue a solo career and raise her family. I’m not sure just how compatible those two aspirations are, but that’s what Cissy wanted to do.
So Cissy left, but not before the group had recorded five albums in their own right – that’s five albums in two years – one of which, the second, included a cover of To Love Somebody, which became a minor hit on the American R&B chart.
That same year, 1969, Dusty Springfield recorded a version which was never released – and probably never will be because the tapes have disappeared.
But in early 1970 she entered the BBC studios and delivered a wonderfully white soul version that didn’t deviate too far from the original, except for the fact it had the good sense to ditch the strings and go with horns for embellishment.
[Song]
Nice backing vocals, too.
Such was the song’s popularity in 1969 it even spread to Kingston, Jamaica where Busty Brown, who also went by the names Clive Smith and my personal favourite, Count Busty, recorded a reggae version.
Fair to say Busty’s budget was negligible though because this sounds like it was recorded in his garage with a couple of girls he rounded up in the neighbourhood.
[Song]
Busty brings an unmistakeable air of optimism, however. He hasn’t has given up on turning things around. This relationship is not a done deal just yet.
Jimmy Somerville, former lead singer of the Bronski Beat and then The Communards, trod the same path in 1990, but his version is a little too polished and inauthentic. He’s just going through the motions and it’s hard to fathom why he even bothers.
[Song]
To Love Somebody is a song so strong that it’s pretty much bullet proof. Pretty much. In 1988, Bonnie Tyler, she of Total Eclipse Of The Heart fame, packed her pistols and set about seeing just how bullet proof this song really was.
Take a listen. And I hope you like the saxophone.
[Song]
Miraculously, the song survives this all-out assault. It’s wounded, no doubt, but it’s still standing. Somehow.
But Bonnie’s not done. At the four-minute mark, she brings out the heavy artillery to see if she can finish it off.
[Song]
That was so bad, even the guitar went out of tune.
Bonnie wasn’t the only person in Wales to tackle this song, however. Wales’s favourite son, Tom Jones, gave it the full TJ treatment in 1970.
[Song]
In 2005, The Smashing Pumpkins’ Billy Corgan, with the help of Robert Smith, took the song’s biggest strength, it’s melody, removed it and replaced it with an arrangement that resembled a post-apocalyptic wasteland.
[Song]
Corgan and Smith walk aimlessly through this empty setting seemingly searching for this lost partner. But you know the search will be futile. There is no hope here. Just a harrowing reality that Corgan is alone and will remain so.
Speaking of modern makeovers, To Love Somebody has not been heavily sampled. In fact, it’s barely been sampled at all.
The most prominent sample was on Jermiside’s 2011 track, There’s A lot Going Down, which broadcast The Bee Gees to a whole new audience.
Not sure how many of that audience stayed around after this song, however. I’m thinking, maybe, none. The Bee Gees really aren’t hip for a hip hop crowd.
[Song]
Barb Jungr is an English singer who, in 2008, recorded a nice jazz cover on her Nina Simone tribute album, Just Like A Woman.
[Song]
Earlier this year, Canadian singer Beyries (Bay-ree) turned To Love Somebody into a beautiful, plaintive hymn.
Bayree has been hurt. Her lover has left her. And she’s in pain. That horrible, wretched, crushing pain only a broken heart can bring.
[Song]
Dexys Midnight Runners is one of those bands that, no matter how hard they try, no matter how many songs they put out, no matter how many name changes they go through, they will be known for one song and one song only.
And in their case it’s this song.
[Song]
It’s been almost 40 years since Come On Eileen made overalls a must-have and have since shed four members and two words - that is, they are now known simply as Dexys.
But Dexys or not, they have yet to release a single that’s gone anywhere near as high as Come On Eileen.
That’s not to say they haven’t released something as good - because they have - it’s simply that they are no longer in fashion. And pretty much haven’t been ever since Come On Eileen.
Undeterred, however, Kevin Rowland, who pretty much is Dexys these days, released an album called Dexys Do Irish & Country Soul which contained this interesting cover of To Love Somebody.
I said before To Love Somebody wasn’t Wordsworth. Well, at times Rowland recited the lines - speaks them - as if they were.
And he even rhymes “brain” with “again”.
Rowland recently told Uncut magazine, quote:
“It’s got a different meaning now to The Bee Gees' version. That's a gentle love song. I had to picture someone I felt had hurt me to get to that.” end quote
[Song]
The Revivalists is an American rock n roll band straight outta Oregon. Formed in 2007, they’ve put out four albums, the most recent being 2018’s Take Good Care.
In 2020 though they put out an EP called Made In Muscle Shoals and one of the tracks on it was a nice alt-country cover of To Love Somebody.
But I’m not going to play you that version. Instead, I’m going to play you this version - which was recorded live at the Audiotree studios in 2014. The arrangement is the same, I just prefer the organic feel of an intimate live recording.
[Song]
Standing head and shoulders above all these covers and karaoke versions, however, is Roberta Flack reading in 1971.
Flack had stamped her credentials as a distinguished interpreter with her first two albums – records that brought jazz into the mainstream without disappointing jazz hardheads. No easy feat.
Flack was not yet a songwriter so she relied on other people’s material. But not just any material. Flack was choosy and would only record songs she could put her own spin on. Make her own.
She took songs that were familiar… Hey That’s No Way To Say Goodbye, Just Like A Woman, Do What You Gotta Do, Bridge Over Troubled Water, Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow … and others less so, most famously her haunting rendition of Ewan McColl’s The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face.
There was a pattern here. With the notable exception of that hit song, Flack had a fetish for songs of anguish.
Or as, one of her songs said: sweet bitter love.
If you wanted to soundtrack your breakup, there was no better place to turn. To Love Somebody was ripe for the picking. Almost made to order.
Flack shows her bona fides right from the beginning. Where Gibb was timid, Flack is plaintive. And there’s a difference.
They were both trying to set the same scene, express the same emotion, but only one of them does it with conviction. We’ll put it down to experience.
Right from the get go, with three simple notes Flack flags she is heading in a different direction.
[Song]
After the third note there is nothing … and then Flack steps to the microphone …
[Song]
… and she lets that line hang there.
There’s a light. But what kind of light? The tempo is slow so we have time to consider the question.
And then she starts to elaborate.
[Song]
Oh this is not going to go well, is it? Flack is sad. Mournful. Empty. Desolate.
[Song]
Did you hear what she did there? Listen again to the words.
[Song]
Did you notice she says “shines”? Gibb sang “shone” – try saying that quickly – past tense, but Flack is living this, not reflecting on it. Her heartache is alive. Vivid. Her pain is present … and ongoing.
This is an example of substance in subtlety. Weight in nuance.
It’s also an example of an artist absorbed in the song. She’s not performing it. She’s experiencing it. And telling her tale is difficult. It hurts.
By the time she ekes out the first verse – which takes almost a minute – you could almost have stopped right there. She’s told the story in just five lines.
But she presses on.
Eventually we get to what was a chorus. Now it’s more of a refrain. A lament.
[Song]
She’s pushing us away. We can’t help her. She’s alone in her torment. Utterly broken.
And then she gets to the second verse. The verse Barry Gibb should have rewritten.
And, and … this is what she sings:
[Song]
Brilliant. Perfect. In my dreams. Not in my brain. See Barry, it wasn’t so hard.
No one says in my brain. In my dreams gives the song authenticity. It saves the song from falling apart.
Which is exactly what Flack does from that point. She, the narrator, falls to the ground. Alone, with no one to catch or comfort her.
This is a brilliant adaptation. It’s more than a transformation, it’s a re-translation.
From pop to jazz.
From Top 40 psychedelic confetti to something funereal.
It’s the same song … and yet it isn’t. Flack should get a songwriting credit.
49 years on and more than 200 artists have covered this song, most of them following Gibb’s template. Flack’s version, for all its eminence, remains mostly hidden.
By and large, we don’t like pain in music. Not pain this raw, anyway. We prefer it to be dressed up and diluted by arrangements that can verge on the saccharine.
Hello Michael Bolton. Whatever you do, don’t go seek out that song. You’ll get diabetes before Bolton even reaches the end of the first verse.
The Bee Gees original isn’t saccharine, despite Stigwood’s best efforts, and it endures. Artists are still covering it. Radio is still playing it.
Flack's reading, on the other hand, remains utterly original and utterly ignored. People prefer popular.
But next time you’re dumped, or your affection is unrequited and you want to talk to someone who understands. Whose been there. Lived it. Knows what you’re going through.
When you’re in that emotional abyss and you want someone who can comfort you, well, there’s only one place to go.
[Song]
The Bee Gees will go down in history as a band that soundtracked part of the 70s. Not many bands get that honour - and it isn’t something the Bee Gees should shy away from - but it is something that still annoys Barry Gibb to this day.
Here he is on Australian breakfast television in 1988
[Song]
With some justification Gibb points to other songs he has written that were equal to - or, in some cases, above - the songs on Saturday Night Fever.
To Love Somebody is a great song. There’s a reason so many artists have covered it. There’s a reason that Nina Simone, no less, named an album - and one of her very best albums, as it happens - after it.
Yes, it only reached No. 41 in the UK charts and No. 17 in the US, but chart positions aren’t the arbiter of good taste. They never have been - and they certainly aren’t now.
The Bee Gees don’t get their due credit. They were one of the all-time great harmony groups and some of their 60s-era songs - songs that came out well before Saturday Night Fever - remain instantly recognisable and infectiously likeable.
Words, Massachusetts, I Started A Joke, Spicks & Specks and, of course To Love Somebody.
To Love Somebody wasn’t the Bee Gees first single and it wasn’t their last.
But it just may have been their best.
Maurice Gibb died unexpectedly in 2003 aged just 53 and Robin passed away in 2012. Barry has carried the torch ever since, most recently featuring in the documentary How Can You Mend A Broken Heart?
Only five acts have sold more records than The Bee Gees and they are, in order:
Elvis
The Beatles
Michael Jackson
Garth Brooks and
Paul McCartney
That’s rarified company. Even The Stones and Dylan don’t match them.The band were inducted into the Rock n Roll Hall of Fame in 1997 and the Songwriters Hall of Fame three years earlier.
It’s hard to know which accolade would have meant more to the three of them, but I have a suspicion it may have been the latter.
To Love Somebody has been gifted jazz covers, rock n roll covers, acoustic covers, soul covers, blues covers and even country covers.
It endures and continues to enthral. And you can’t ask for more than that.
I’m going to finish with another Aussie paying his respects. It’s Keith Urban at a concert honouring the Bee Gees in 2020.
There was a light. A certain kind of light that shone during this performance.
[Song]
Want to hear some more? Of course you do. Here’s the ending.
[Song]