It’s Christmas, the time of the year when it’s all about giving presents. Books and records are always a good thing to give. Some of the people in your surrounding are more important, so you choose their presents with sharp attention. Stil, there are some people who are in your circles, but you don’t reall have a strong connection with them. Maybe you need to buy a present to your cousin who is supposed to be close to you, but, for some reason, he’s not. It is a kind of person that deserves a symbolic present. What do we know about this cousin? He might be listening to the 80s music. Well, he might like Barry Gibb’s music.
It is a very polished music with deeply sterilized ideas. The only idea coming through is that this is a mainstream rock made via computer algorythm – what listeners want, they should get. No pushing boundaries here. Not even stepping out of the comfort zone. Creativity is not across the board.
Silky power-pop arrangements, vocals resembling Tom Petty and Phil Collins and generic music solutions that create great music If you want to forget who is singing. That is what you get with this record. There are two exceptions: Diamonds, a solid rock number, and End of the Rainbow, a suggestive, country track at the end of the album. Everything else did not deserve to see the light of day. Sorry for being so harsh, Barry.
Barry has made this album with his sons, which makes it a very personal album. It’s a shame that the intention did not match execution and inspiration. Don’t get me wrong – the production is fabulous, but it is rare to hear so many uninspiring songs put in a perfect package. None of this changes the fact that the fans of Bee Gees will accept this album with open arms. And maybe your uncle too. For the rest of us, this album goes to recycle bin.
