Robin Gibb: Our broken hearts

Very few bands have been able to reinvent themselves as many times as the Bee Gees.

They started out as one of the knock offs of the British invasion, an Aussie-flavored concoction of treacle and tart, harmony achieved through a deviated septum.

Then came the 70s and the roll of quarter tight jeans, big hair and bigger teeth. When other bands were packing in their drumkits, the Bee Gees became the voice of a new generation, the disco ducks with their chains and gold lame. But you know what? With apologies to Donna Summer and Gloria Gaynor, the Bee Gees did disco better than anybody else.

You might have hated disco, but you couldn't help smiling when you heard Saturday Night Fever or Jive Talkin'. It was toe-tappin' bliss, alright.

The Bee Gees weren't afraid to tackle any musical genre. They could rock it out, they could mellow it down and they could countrify it. The Bee Gees were the original cross-over artists.

Everything they touched turned to gold and platinum.

The Bees Gee did more than embrace the latest trends. Their music was infused with joy and heart. That is why they remained so popular for decades, because they made us laugh, they made us cry and boy, did they make us want to dance.

The news of the passing of the ever-strange Robin Gibb is sad for those of us on either side of the boomer era. With Maurice already gone, we will never again hear three-part harmony mastered so soulfully.

Let us not be sad for the passing of Robin. Let us rejoice that his voice is still with us. Sometimes it's hard to get it out of our heads.

Cheers, mate.

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