On Knowing Talent When You Hear (and See) It

It has never been a secret that my musical tastes are narrow in scope. My choices tend toward guitar-driven, classic style rock, the next closest choice being probably guitar-driven alternative style rock. However, there are times when I hear a song from across the tracks that catches my ear. There is usually something about it--a undefinable quality--that stands out. I'm a sucker for a good hook, so oftentimes it's more definably a hook that carries the song to the fore. If I had to guess at what constitutes that "undefinable quality", I'd say it is a creative melody. Creativity as I see it is a gift. There have been a lot of people who have written symphonies, but there have been only a handful of Beethovens, Mozarts or Handels. Also, in spite of whatever opinion some may have, Lennon and McCartney had the gift, both as a team and as individuals. I believe Bono and his homies have the gift, though it has been sporadically applied over the years. And in the realm of country music, I'm a fan of Clint Black, who I also see as a gifted writer/performer. The gift becomes evident over time when a person or group of persons reveal a body of work showing a consistent level of talent and skill. This gift, in whatever genre, can't be bought or learned. It is bestowed by a benevolent Creator.

In my college years, namely around my junior year, I had a copy of "Here at Last: The Bee Gees Live". This was an album they released on the cusp of their late '70s rise to dominance. It was a collection of some really good music, well-crafted and showing signs that the Bee Gees were absolutely gifted songwriters and performers. My roommate at the time was John. John and I had been friends for some time already. We graduated together from high school. We, eventually, were in each others weddings. John is one of a few acquaintances from high school and college whose friendship I still covet. Though we now live some 250 miles apart, I would do anything for John at the drop of a hat. John is also the kind of guy that would do the same for me, but I digress. During our days as roommates at Stephen F. Austin (Garner Apartments, Room #607), John and I would listen to this Bee Gees album often, while washing dishes, eating dinner or whatever. We both agree: those were good times. That was good music.

It's a shame that the Bee Gees are only remembered for their contribution to the disco music craze, linked inexorably to that horrible movie, "Saturday Night Fever". Their contribution to popular music scene in a career of fifty decades is beyond questioning. Going through their catalog reveals song after song after song, all great, all masterfully crafted. Many cringe at Barry Gibb's ever-present falsetto. Well, he has a great normal singing voice, too, but that falsetto fit into the Bee Gee's mix just right. When success follows a group such as the Brothers Gibb for so long, it is never a fickle thing, resting solely on trends or shallow opinions. It rests squarely on the shoulders of remarkable talent and the gift.

Put the DVD, "The Bee Gees: One Night Only" in your Netflix lineup. It is an absolutely great concert. It was recorded in Las Vegas in 1997, a little over 5 years before Maurice Gibb's untimely death on January 12, 2003. The death in 1988 of Andy Gibb, their younger brother who was a successful solo artist in his own right, was quite a blow to the Brothers Gibb, yet Maurice's death marked the end for the group. I'm OK with this. All good things must end, and ending this way is the most fitting tribute that Barry and Robin could offer to their brother's memory. This concert also ends up being more than a collection of hits, performed by three brothers whose musical chops rarely weakened over their lengthy careers. It is a window into a family that loved music, loved performing, and loved performing with each other. Here it is, 13 years after this great Vegas concert, and I still enjoy this music. I hope that I always will. It will show that I still know quality when I hear it.