Packed stalls greeted the reformation of the Bee Gees at the Regent Theatre on Saturday night.
Like other franchises of this ilk, the musicians who keep alive the pop heroes of the 1970s and beyond do so in near anonymity. Only their first names are given a single shoutout from the stage.
The audience rightly applauds their mastery but is unable to follow their professional development.
The band which sways away in the unlit background is also recognised by first names only. Two are New Zealanders. All are sadly subservient to the chosen pops idols.
And "pop idols" sums up the Bee Gees brothers’ legacy.
They were Australia’s answer to the Californian Beach Boys and the Liverpudlian Beatles. Antipodean pop could be almost just as good.
Barry’s cavalier hair, strident falsetto and over-hung jaw are offset by white tight bell bottoms.
Maurice’s cheekbones mark his equivalence to George Harrison.
Robin’s surf-salted shining dome mark him as Californian.
The trio were famously depicted Stayin’ Alive in war-torn Europe. Latterly, sibling rivalries kept them in the tabloids.
Early hits Spicks and Specks, Massachusetts, New York Mining Disaster 1941 and I Started a Joke made musical sense and still get audiences on their feet, singing along with broad smiles.
Disco slick and breathless hits from the 1970s included Night Fever, You Should Be Dancing, More than a Woman and Tragedy.
Hits from the 1980s such as He Can’t Love You and Heartbreaker also struck a chord with the audience.
However, the lyrics to most of these songs may not survive. Line-on-line they remain at best rhyming and at worst nonsensical. In 2024, fans stay alive by just having a laugh.
Review by Marian Poole
