THE BEE GEES – "I Gotta Get A Message To You"

🙂

Actually Doctor Mod the “dark side of ’68” thing was a little tweak at Robin C, who (I felt) over-weighted this particular track in a recent posting.

The shoe fit and so I wore it . . .

Chris, I find that little is said about the two seemingly separate career periods of the Bee Gees. What is remembered is the second period, the “Disco Bee Gees,” all high falsetto, chest hair, and white polyester–and vastly more successful commercially than their earlier incarnation. “Gotta Get a Message” is from the first period in which the Bee Gees were a quintet (a drummer and guitarist in addition to the Gibb brothers) who were at first promoted as a successor to the Beatles (the first of many, including Badfinger). Their lyrics were a bit obscure and imaginistic and thus confused with meaningfulness. Even then they seemed a bit twee–or, more kindly put, quaint. Because the group members couldn’t get along with one another (and their disputes, often reported with a great deal of soap opera dramatics, got a lot of attention in UK music press), they broke up (or nearly broke up) frequently. Their work became more and more self-indulgent and obscure, and they’d rather disappeared from the radar by 1970-71. Later they emerged, reformed and disco-fied, in the mid-70s, by which time many had forgotten their earlier (and much different) work. It’s only been in the past ten years or so that the earlier works have been “resurrected.”

Further thoughts on my previous comment–I want to clarify that a song with this theme has the potential for making an anti-capital punishment statement, yet this song does no such thing. I actually gave it a listen–the first in a long time–and must conclude that the protagonist doesn’t protest his fate but actually accepts it as just punishment: “Well I did it to him / Now it’s my turn to die.”

Mod OTM in regard to the fundamental irrelevance of the Bee Gees to any actual external zeitgeist – until, inexplicably, “Nights on Broadway,” “Stayin’ Alive,” “Tragedy,” where the zeitgeist swirled into them, emanated from them, reflected from them. And then, back to inconsequence. The thing about their early work is it was very good and then suddenly it wasn’t. The sentimental songs were basically white soul done with flair and agony, then suddenly they were replaced by insipid quavering sap. The Beatle harmonies were dramatic (don’t recall offhand what malarkey “Cucumber Castle” was about [though the alb is several feet away from me if I want to find out], but the harmonies left a shivery sting in the back of my neck), then it became mush. And then “Nights on Broadway” came, and they were good again. (Probably not so simple, but since I couldn’t stand the singles starting with “Massachusetts,” I never explored the associated albums.

Its easy to forget how good some of the early Bee Gees stuff was. ‘To Love Somebody’ was covered by Nina Simone and Janis Joplin and Morning of My Life was a gem in the right hands (Esther Ofarim). I dont know if it was Maurice Gibb or a session player who played bass on Gotta Get a Message but its worth listening to just for that

Re 8: that’ll be Maurice on bass. He wasn’t much of a songwriter* compared to his brothers, but he was the best Macca-influenced bassist I can think of. Really melodic and upfront. He was also responsible for coming up with the ultra-compressed piano sound that was an early Gibb motif (notably on World, Words, and the title track of Horizontal).

This song was written for Percy Sledge, apparently. Not sure why they thought a prison-related death disc would suit him. The Gibbs are really from another musical planet. Nothing ever makes much sense.

* an exception is The Loner by the Bloomfields – gorgeous west coast harmony pop, and the theme from a REALLY BAD film starring Richard Harris as a legendary Israeli footballer.

I think Odessa is frequently sluggish; I want to pitchshift half the songs, or edit out a verse, or fade them early. The standouts (title track, First Of May, Lamplight, Melody Fair) are exceptional, but for the most part its grand ambition clouds the fact most of the songs are nothing like as strong as ones of the first three albums. Nicely fractious internecine lyrics (I Laugh In Your Face, Never Say Never Again) don’t save the day. Obv I still love it, Gibb nut that I am, but the velvet sleeve and crisis point for the Gibbs has made it their “Mojo story” album, generating more press than it probably deserves.

Punctum, good call on Mr Natural. If Charade was a town I’d move there tomorrow.

It was “Marley Purt Drive” I particularly liked, which I believe also appeared on the charity disc “Nothing’s gonna change my world” which famously had the original mix version of “Across the Universe”

I only mention it, because by gum! can you sing “Let it be” along with it? yes.

In lieu of providing concrete details of his cases, the narrator is walking to imminent death! That’s enough to turn most people into internal slobbering messes and pitching last pleas to some virginal mother figure in their lovies outside, than suddenly wearing Dylan-esque cojones to model their epithtes after Hurricane. Seriously? Who’d look to teenage blatherings (if talented teens) for sociological significance of 1968?
My goodness, is musicology about measuring up to sticks than appreciating why someone’s creativity is fueled and nurtured by insularity that thrives on engaging in distilling experiences into abstractions, internalizing them (hence the unapologetic, polarizing stylization), whilst breathing in its own bubble of perfected formal details?
A daft waste of breath that contributes nothing to society? Haven’t they always charged for stream of consciousness poetry or films (Inland Empire)?

I do remember being quite overwhelmed by this as an 8 year old. The simplicity of the lyrics made it easy to comprehend and the melancholy mood and intense delivery made it immediately engaging. ‘Music from Big Pink’ featured ‘Long Black Veil’ which may well have served as a template for this but whereas the earlier song expresses a subdued fatalism this conveys an earnest sense of longing.