Sunday, October 2, 2016

Barry Gibb tells how being asked to write a new record snapped him out of his misery

october 1 ,2016
 
IT started with an invitation and became a challenge. Barry Gibb wasn’t contemplating a new record until he was asked to make one by Columbia Records boss Rob Stringer
.
All those songs which have sold all those records, from You Should Be Dancin’ and Stayin’ Alive to Islands In The Stream and Chain Reaction, were written because Gibb says he had “someone to please”.
As he prepares to release only his second ever solo record In The Now, the man responsible for some of the greatest pop songs in history reveals all the typical insecurities of the artist.
He cites contemporaries such as Bob Dylan, Paul McCartney and Bruce Springsteen as his heroes, his influences, as if their talent is greater than his.
There is no ego about Gibb.
He measures the enduring love of his music against the lean days when they weren’t on the charts, and the backlash the Bee Gees suffered in the dying days of disco cut so deeply he wears it like an open scar decades later.
But it was the absence of his brothers Maurice and Robin which stoked his greatest self-doubt when it came to writing new songs.
 
 
Filling the breach, giving him the support and courage to forge ahead, are his sons Stephen and Ashley who have collaborated with their father on and off over the years but formed a more formal trio for the In The Now sessions.
Gibb is a sensitive, emotional man and particularly tender about family with the recent death of the matriarch Barbara in August at 95.
“This is me emptying out. I can’t be the Bee Gees, I’m what’s left of the Bee Gees and I don’t want to be what’s left of the Bee Gees. I just want to find out what I am because I am obviously not in a group anymore,” he says quietly, sitting in the vast loungeroom of his home on the Miami beachfront.
“It’s a very strange situation to be in because I had always perceived myself to be the eldest brother of the Bee Gees.”
Before Stringer came with the offer of a record deal, Gibb’s wife of 46 years, Linda kicked him off the couch. McCartney also weighed in, telling him to “get on with it.”
The couch is where Gibb had retreated after Robin’s death in 2012, sitting in the dark watching hours and hours of television.
 
“Some people have said it was (depression) but I’m not sure it was. I think I’m probably bipolar anyway but I wouldn’t call it a depression, I would call it acceptance. This is it,” he says.
“I watched television for months and Linda walked in one night and said ‘You have got to get off your ass. Get on with it. Stop thinking everything is finished because everyone is gone, you’re still here.’
“It woke me up.”
It is unsurprising In The Now is Gibb’s most personal album. In Home Truth Song, his nod to Springsteen, he sings “I ain’t the poster boy you made me”.
 
 
The closing track End Of The Rainbow is for his brothers, including youngest Andy who died in 1988.
“It’s hard to sing,” he says. “I sang part of it to Rob when he was in a coma — I don’t know if he heard me,” he says.
“I was trying to sing to him that it was OK, the dream came true and the end of the rainbow is here. I was trying to say that to him because he was always anguished about the next record.
“Later, when I was finishing it with my sons, I realised it was more of a song about time, that time difference between England and Australia, which always meant something to an immigrant family like ours.”
His greatest muse, Linda, inspired the title track and Star Crossed Lovers.
“Linda and I weren’t allowed to be together because I was a teenage artist, nobody in the business wanted me to have a girlfriend, you’ll lose fans. We fought against that and stayed together,” he says.
 
Meaning Of The Word is about his first crush when he was still in school in Queensland. Gibb becomes coy when asked about the subject of his teenage lust.
“It’s the only secret I have in my life and I have too much respect for that lady ... and I don’t know who she is now or where she is so it doesn’t matter. If you’re 14, it is a great crush. Then I did something wrong, that’s another secret, and I never saw her again,” he says.
“I went on with a number of girlfriends, all of who dumped me because I was too possessive. Every time I dated a girl, it had to be an absolute relationship and that didn’t work for girls that age.”
No doubt they were kicking themselves when the Bee Gees became one of the biggest groups in the history of pop music and Barry Gibb, the trio’s sex symbol.
On the walls leading into the loungeroom are hundreds of photos of the superstar with his beautiful wife — a former Miss Edinburgh — their family and a dizzying amount of famous people, from Elton John to Bjorn Borg.
One striking image features Michael Jackson playing air-guitar on tennis racquets with the Gibb children, which also include Travis, Michael and Alexandra.
The Stayin’ Alive singer tells an hilarious tale of Jackson seeking refuge at the mansion while hundreds of fan screamed outside his Miami hotel.
He was also on the receiving end of Jackson’s regular prank calls to friends.
“He would visit people he was a fan of; he told me Off The Wall was inspired by (Saturday Night) Fever,” Gibb says.
“Sometimes he would call me up and pretend to be his own secretary. That high, frilly, innocent voice of his was one of three or four different voices he had.
“He liked being here during the Victory tour; he didn’t want to be at the hotel. He would sit in the kitchen and watch the news which was showing everyone at the hotel and he would giggle.
“The pair of us would sit in this room and get drunk and sing. I had a microphone and speakers in here and we’d sing all kinds of things, new ideas, his new songs, my new songs.”
 
The microphone and speaker set-up is now in the Gibb master bedroom. While he has access to the state-of-the-art studios in Miami, including the legendary Hit Factory where he recorded the soundtracks for Grease and Saturday Night Fever through to In The Now, Gibb rehearses for his live performances in his bedroom.
“It’s completely intimate and I can shut all the doors, turn the lights off, put on a little spotlight and pretend I am on stage,” he says.
In The Now has given Gibb a new lease of artistic life and a reason to keep making and performing music. He wants to keep going with his sons and Stephen will join him again in the band when he takes the album on the road.
“I love collaboration and I love that it is in the blood, in their blood. I never wanted to be on my own,” he says.
In The Now is out on October 7. Barry Gibb hosts his own radio show on smoothfm on Sundays at 4pm from October 9.
 
 
 
 
Source Kathy McCabeNews Corp Australia Network
 
 
 
 

Friday, September 30, 2016

Barry Gibb :'I SHOULD'VE BEEN THE FIRST TO GO'

30 september 2016


I’m sat in the lounge of his Buckinghamshire house as the ­former Bee Gees star discusses with me the making of his first solo album for 32 years — In The Now.


“I feel energised,” he says. “I needed to get off my backside and I’ve always needed to write and play music.
“I’ve been writing music since I was eight years old — they were pretty bad songs then but, as time moved on, I got better.”
Modest, to say the least — Barry is generally regarded as one of the greatest songwriters of all time.
His revered songs include How Deep Is Your Love, Stayin’ Alive, Jive Talkin’, You Win Again, Woman In Love (his ballad with Barbra ­Streisand) and Night Fever.


He adds: “I didn’t really retire. I kept talking about it and thinking it was all over.
“When Mo (Maurice) died, I felt like the bottom had dropped out. I didn’t want to go on without him but Robin was very hyper to keep the Bee Gees going and to make more music. But I was still grieving.
“Some groups last five years and we’d been around the charts for 45 years so I tried to convince Robin it was OK to wait, to have a laugh, but I didn’t know he was ill.” Robin died in 2012 aged 62 after a battle with colon cancer, which had spread to his liver.
Barry had already lost Robin’s twin, Maurice, 53, in 2003 to complications from a twisted intestine, while youngest brother Andy died aged just 30 in 1988 after years of drug abuse.


Barry, 70, said he never felt ­comfortable as an artist without his brothers and it was only when he went on tour in 2014 that he understood how much the music still meant to fans.
He says: “I did about 20 shows worldwide and I didn’t know what to expect because it was just me and not the Bee Gees. I was ­celebrating my family and ­celebrating my brothers.
“We’ve had an incredible following since we were kids in Australia but I felt I needed to re-convince ­people I am OK as an individual artist. It was ‘digest me and you might like it’.”
Barry’s eminence as a performer was confirmed at Glastonbury in June when Coldplay’s Chris Martin introduced him to the stage to ­perform 1977 disco megahit Stayin’ Alive and hailed it “the greatest song of all time”.


Barry admits: “That was terrifying, no question about that, but ­everyone was kind and nice. Chris was so kind and backstage there was lots of activity to calm my nerves. Kids were playing soccer, Gwyneth Paltrow was there and I met Noel Gallagher.”
In The Now marks a new chapter in Barry’s life and the album was another family affair, made with his sons Stephen and Ashley.
He says: “Working with my sons is not unlike with Maurice and Robin — though they are quite different types of people.


Stephen is very heavy metal and a gentle giant whereas Ashley is very analytical and very concerned with everything we do and every lyric. In that way Ashley is like me, a little intense.
“But they are great and I love them both. And my daughter Ali is involved in publishing and licensing.
“I just want the Bee Gees’ music to end up in a good place where they are looked after and presented in a big and bright way.”
Barry and wife Linda, a former Miss Edinburgh, have five children and seven grandkids.
Barry met Linda at a recording of Top Of The Pops and the pair have been ­married for 46 years.

It was Linda who inspired Barry to make this album. He says: “She told me to get off my ass — literally — and (new track) Star Crossed Lovers is for her.
"I wanted to write a pop song like a Carole King song with that sort of emotion.
“I wanted to write about what it’s like to be in love.”
Of the many heartfelt songs on In The Now, one called The Long Goodbye “came from the loss of all my brothers”, says Barry.
He adds: I don’t think it is specifically a love song, I think that’s how it came about. We spent a lot of time dealing with each other, whether it was positive or negative — we dealt with it.
“For the last few years, first ­losing Andy, then Mo and then Robin, it really was a journey for me. I am the eldest, I should have been the first. I am still sitting here wondering, ‘Why?’ Though I’ve accepted it more now.”

Barry admits he had a particularly up and down relationship with Robin and another song, the ­poignant End Of The Rainbow, is dedicated to him.
Barry says: “I will never forget being a kid.
“Even when I am 90 years old I will still feel like a kid in my mind and that is what I always used to say to Robin. It is happening right now, enjoy it.”
Barry is clearly a sensitive soul and, when we meet, he tells me he is about to fly back to Miami to see his ailing 95-year-old mother Barbara who recently had a stroke.
He tells me: “We’re just waiting for the call. It’s very difficult and at the moment we don’t know if we are coming or going.
“I talk to my mother on the phone but it’s very difficult to understand what she is saying. But I owe her a lot.

She is a strong woman and encouraged us to do what we love doing for a career.
“She’s had a long life and that’s another reason for In The Now as an album title.
“You must live for the sake of life and not worry about what is going to happen tomorrow.
“We live in the past, with all the memories and great moments but we need to think of the present too.
“I look for laughter all the time and I don’t look for issues. I can’t think of anyone I don’t like. I don’t nurture those things any more.”


Sadly, a few weeks after our meeting, news broke that Barry’s mother has passed away at home in Miami.
But his mother’s strength inspired him throughout his life.
During our chat, he tells me: “Not only has she lost her sons — the loss of Andy was particularly hard — but I had accidents as a child. I was hit by a car twice.
I was badly scalded when I was two and my mother told me I didn’t speak for two years. So music and songwriting was my way of escaping my own feelings. I didn’t really have any friends.”
As well as In The Now being Barry’s coming to terms with time, he says it’s also about release.
“It’s the rejection of ego and I’m afraid we all had one,” he says with a laugh, showing off those famous pearly whites.
“I suppose it’s made me a better person. I’ve evolved into someone who is more understanding of things going on around me.


I try to reject all negative things because, if you let any issue creep into you while you are working, you are going to cause yourself great stress.”
Barry’s lounge features many photos of family and famous friends including Michael Jackson and Jack Nicholson.
The Bee Gees were THE band of the Seventies, following the release of the Saturday Night Fever ­soundtrack which sold more than 40million copies.
But despite those colossal sales, the Bee Gees also attracted critics — something that pained Barry.
“Yes, I found the jokes hurtful,” he admits. “Interviews were often based on the negative, never based on the positive. And that’s one of the reasons we walked off Clive Anderson,” he says of their famous 1996 TV show clash.


It was just a barrage of inferred insults,” says Barry. “And we were fans of Clive Anderson so that made me sad. I just snapped.”
Barry adds: “Success followed by failure is actually healthy. Constant success is dangerous.
“Fame can actually kill you, either by drugs as we saw with Elvis, or professionally with The Beatles as they couldn’t collaborate any more. And Michael Jackson — who I knew very well and watched disintegrate.
He was totally unable to deal with the business and I never wanted that. It happened very early for Amy Winehouse and was too much.
“But now I’ve come to understand the long haul — that people change, too. The industry changes and the ­people change. One time you’re in fashion, the next time you’re not.”
One thing that hasn’t changed over time is Barry’s unmistakable falsetto.


I ask how does he keep it in tune? “I warm up a little bit every day when something important is coming up until I’ve built my confidence,” he says.
“I’m ­nervous, so in my bedroom I have two big speakers, a mixer with an echo and microphone.
I turn off all the lights and have a little spotlight so I can put myself in that world. I will rehearse like I’m on stage. And that is me doing my homework.”
Barry is now looking ahead and hopes to tour his album. “If I happen, by luck, to get a Rick Astley or a Jeff Lynne moment then I certainly will be out there touring,” he says.
“I’ve got the finest band I’ve ever worked with. We are meticulous.
“It’s just wonderful to have this chance again. Everyone has been so positive and I try to seize every moment in life. And that’s what making this album has allowed me to do.”

source : The Sun



http://beegeesfanfever.blogspot.nl/

Thursday, September 29, 2016

Barry Gibb: dancing out of the shadows

Barry Gibb’s mansion, in leafy Buckinghamshire, is at the end of a drive that’s at least a quarter of a mile long. It’s the kind of lavish, mock-Tudor pad that you may expect to be occupied by an England footballer, but it also feels like an apt home for the sole surviving Bee Gee and second most successful songwriter in history after Paul McCartney.
As well as rivalling his old friend Michael Jackson for the title of premier falsetto in pop, Gibb wrote or co-wrote some of the biggest songs of the 20th century, from his group’s Night Fever and How Deep is Your Love? to Barbra Streisand’s Woman in Love, Diana Ross’s Chain Reaction and Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton’s Islands in the Stream. He shares John Lennon and McCartney’s record for penning the most consecutive US No 1s — six — and is worth an estimated $50 million.

Parked outside the house are a succession of dune buggies, golf carts and dirt bikes — toys for Gibb’s seven grandchildren. Inside are chandeliers of the kind that are swung on in movies, a balcony from which Linda, his wife of 46 years, waves, and photographs of him and his three brothers — Robin (the unbearded one) and Maurice (the balding one), who were in the Bee Gees with him, and Andy, who wasn’t — plus their sister, Lesley, and, randomly, Sylvester Stallone.

Gibb emerges from a side door and we settle down in armchairs. He is 70 and a bit fragile-looking in tinted glasses, V-neck T-shirt and jeans, but the disco era’s finest mane is luxuriant and only slightly greying. These days he spends most of his time at his house in Miami — he has a US passport and is a fan of Donald Trump — but his famous toothy lisp is still full of Manchester, where he lived until he was 12.

He is slowly getting used to being the only Gibb brother left, and an artist in his own right, with his first solo album in more than 30 years out this month. “Andy passed first, then Mo, then Rob, all in a 24-year period,” he says. “They were all too young.” Andy, who had a solo music career, died at age 30 in 1988 from an inflammation of the heart, Maurice at 53 in 2003 from complications due to a twisted intestine, Robin at 62 in 2012 of liver and kidney failure following cancer. Losing three of her five children was, he says, “pretty devastating” for his mother, Barbara, who died in August aged 95.

Robin once wondered if “the tragedies my family has suffered are a karmic price for all the fame and fortune the Bee Gees have had”. Does Barry agree? “You can be punished for being successful,” he says. “Michael Jackson was punished for being successful, to the point when he no longer wanted to make records. Barbra Streisand doesn’t like making records, which shocks me.”

What does he miss most about his brothers? “Camaraderie; coming up with the next song. The madness of it, because we were all different and we were all a bit crazy. Sharing failure as well as success: being really pissed off if a record didn’t go well. And the incredible sensation of a No 1 record. There’s nothing like it.”

As Maurice once said: “We weren’t on the charts. We were the charts.” Is it true that they once wrote three US No 1 singles in a matter of hours? “I think we were pretty high,” Gibb says. Amphetamines were their poison back then. “We wrote Too Much Heaven, Tragedy and Shadow Dancing (sung by Andy Gibb) in one afternoon, but we were flying. Ha ha.”

Later in their career, tensions emerged between Barry and Robin, the main songwriters. While Barry was always “the ideas guy”, Robin sometimes struggled for inspiration. “He had a beautiful voice but he lacked self-esteem,” Gibb says. “He came up with some brilliant ideas in the late 60s and then he seemed to withdraw.” Whoever wrote a song generally sang lead vocals on it, so Barry “dominated by default”, he says. “I felt guilty about it because I didn’t want him to step back.” One of his regrets is that they weren’t getting on when Robin died.

“Everyone wanted to be a solo artist,” he says. “I can’t say that I didn’t feel the same way.” Familial loyalties always got in the way, but Gibb is now free to go it alone and pursue one of his loves: country music. “I wasn’t supposed to embrace country,” he says. “It was always in what we did but the others didn’t share that passion.” He’s drawn, he says, to “the pure honesty of emotion. It does something that goes right through me.”

Two months after Robin died, Barry made his debut at the home of country, the Grand Ole Opry in Nashville. He’s getting comfortable as a solo performer, he says: at a recent show in New York there were five minutes of applause before he began.

Now he is releasing a solo album, only the second of his career, that’s steeped in country. Called In the Now and written with his sons Stephen and Ashley, it’s a lovely, elegiac record on which his voice is hushed and melodious. There are excursions into windswept rock and Carpenters-style pop but the focus is on confessional country ballads such as The Long Goodbye, about losing his brothers (“There’s nothing I can say, to erase that final day”).

When I say I enjoyed the album, he claims surprise. “I expect the opposite. You’ve made my day.” Come off it, Barry! He must be aware that the Bee Gees’ harmonies, hooks and sophisticated songwriting have come back into fashion in recent years, with gushing endorsements from the likes of Noel Gallagher and Bono, who has said that their back catalogue makes him “ill with envy” and puts them “up there with the Beatles”.

In June, Gibb made his debut at Glastonbury, joining Coldplay for renditions of To Love Somebody and Stayin’ Alive, which Chris Martin introduced as “the greatest song of all time”.
He met Martin a few years ago in Australia, during a charity telethon, when they had breakfast with Olivia Newton-John and cricketer Shane Warne. Heaven knows what that foursome talked about but it led to Gibb’s appearance at Worthy Farm, during which he looked stunned by the reaction. “It was electrifying,” he says. “I don’t think I’d ever seen an audience of 120,000 people.”
If that kind of reception genuinely surprises him it could be because his memories are still raw from the 1980s and 90s, when the Bee Gees were as likely to be spoofed as feted. The teeth, the falsettos, the open-neck shirts: all were ripe for ribbing by comedians.

It came to a head in 1997 when Gibb, followed by his brothers, stormed off a chat show, snarling “You’re a tosser, pal” after the presenter repeatedly joked about the band’s high voices, drug problems and fraternal tensions.
“I thought, ‘I’ll give you five minutes to retrieve it’ but he didn’t so I thought, ‘F..k you.’ I think if he’d have spoken to me like that in life I might have hit him.” He insists he’s now more sanguine about mickey-taking. He can still bristle, though. “I heard Jim Carey say to Graham Norton that he had survived the Grinch movie by listening to our music. I felt that was a piss-take.”
Gibb was born in 1946 on the Isle of Man, but the family later moved to Manchester. He paints a nostalgic picture of the brothers’ salad years: “Kids in shorts, 10 years after the war. Our father (Hugh, a bandleader and drummer, who died in 1992) couldn’t get work. We were always wandering around bombed-out buildings, shoplifting, getting into trouble. It was always cold and if it wasn’t cold it was foggy. Everything around you was black and they had to run in front of buses with lanterns.”

In 1958, the Gibbs migrated to Australia, where the brothers first performed as the Bee Gees. Returning to Britain in 1967, they broke through with their first internationally released album, Bee Gees’ 1st.
In 1970, Gibb met Linda, a former Miss Edinburgh, during a recording of Top of the Pops at the BBC. Rather fabulously, they had their first romantic encounter in the Tardis. “Surrounded by Daleks. What can I say? Time stood still. Then we went for a cup of tea in the canteen and reality came back.”

He and Linda have a daughter and four sons, whose wives hail from as far afield as Israel, Sweden and Russia. “It’s a multicultural family,” he says. “To me it’s one of the most successful families in the record industry.” It’s a happy one too, he adds, although there’s something faintly unsettling about the way he says: “I won’t have arguments in my house. Nobody shouts in my house.”
His politics swing rightwards: “You’ve got to watch out for your family, protect your own territory. Go back to the Stone Age, you know!” He says he’ll probably vote for Trump in November. “I want to see a big character,” he says. “If it was some guy with spectacles and a side parting, that’s boring. During the war we had great characters that led us.” He met Trump at a charity event in the 90s and found him “very pleasant. Behind this big, rich guy is probably a really big heart.”
The Donald’s support for the second amendment is also a factor, you suspect. Gibb likes his guns, a passion that got him into trouble in the 60s when he was living with Linda in a flat opposite St Paul’s Cathedral. She had been having problems with a prowler and when the man rang on the intercom, Gibb confronted him with a blank pistol. “Big guy, about 6ft 6in. I pulled the gun from behind my back and said something like, ‘Freeze, motherf..ker!’ I chased him down the street and emptied the gun into the air. People hit the ground.”
He ended up being fined $50 for possession of handguns. “Besides possessing two pistols,” the judge said, “about the only thing I can see Mr Gibb has done wrong is wear a white suit to court.”
The Times
In the Now is released on October 7.
 http://beegeesfanfever.blogspot.nl/

Wednesday, September 28, 2016

Barry Gibb TV Shows 2016

September 30th. 2016...
Later with Jools - Find out more from Barry Gibb on Friday’s show
BBC 2 at 11pm UK Time ! http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b07xs59r


September 30th.
BBC The One Show, 7pm ( 19 Uhr ) UK time 
http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b07vw62j



Don`t forget - Barry will perform on Strictly Come Dancing , October 2nd.
at BBC One, UK.



 http://beegeesfanfever.blogspot.nl/

Barry Gibb performs In The Now on Later… with Jools Holland (27 September 2016)

http://beegeesfanfever.blogspot.nl/

Monday, September 19, 2016

Barry is on the Chris Evans Breakfast show Radio 2 september 20th 2016

Barry is on the Chris Evans Breakfast show Radio 2 tomorrow. Shows on from 6.30 Am till 9.30

There will be a podcast after the show on the  radio 2 website

http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b07vvyls 


 http://beegeesfanfever.blogspot.nl/



Saturday, September 17, 2016

Barry Gibb on Strictly come Dancin' october 2 2016

Strictly Come Dancing  will welcome a very special guest for its first results night – Barry Gibb of the Bee Gees. The music legend is scheduled to perform on the popular BBC show on 2 October.
Barry will take to the stage on the same night that the first pair of dancers will leave the competition.


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