Bee Gees: Odessa 40th Anniversary Re-release

The Bee Gees' ambitious 1969 double-album epic Odessa is often thought to represent the pinnacle of their first era, showcasing them at their most ambitious and expansive. This 40th anniversary 3-disc reissue treats the album with even more reverence than fans of the Brothers Gibb might have been expecting. But unless you're already convinced that the album is a masterpiece, discerning fans of chamber-pop might wonder at all the fuss.

As troubled, ambitious masterworks go, the Bee Gees' 1969 album, Odessa, has all the pedigree it needs. Half the band quit during the recording of this lavishly orchestrated double album, originally intended as a single work about the wreck of a ship in 1899: after all that, it met with tepid sales upon release. Overreach wasn't to blame; in fact, this LP definitely represents the high-water mark of the group's first baroque-pop period. But over the ensuing years, the album's reputation has outgrown it, with conventional wisdom marking it the band's Sgt. Pepper. Hence this lush 3-CD anniversary reissue, with full mono and stereo mixes of the complete album, a separate disc of demos and alternate takes, and a reproduction of the original flocked red velvet packaging, which caused rashes among record plant workers during its first pressing.

As an artifact of the era, the extra care given Odessa is justified. But the focus of the album -- probably due to infighting among the brothers, which led Robin Gibb and guitarist Vince Melouney to quit during the sessions -- is muddled, rendering what should have been a powerful artistic statement into a merely tasteful song cycle. The Gibbs' ambition never gets away from them, but it does result in some very un-Gibb moments that threaten to steal their identity, like the bizarre "Marley Purt Drive," where the Band's Americana combines somewhat shakily with Kinks-like wit, or the otherwise delicious "Whisper Whisper," a country two-step seemingly about sex toys. And the storyline, even by Pepper standards, is nonexistent, wandering off with an ode to the lightbulb ("Edison") and the moody, surreal kiss-off "I Laugh In Your Face." In the end, it's the more Gibb-like ballads that charm best, proving that the trio was already fully-formed by the time their "masterpiece" was made. For archivists only.