Two versions of Robin Gibb’s “I Am the World” separated by over 40 years – plus Glenn Gould
The Bee Gees began singing and writing songs when they were little children, and they turned pro before they were even teenagers, supporting their entire family of seven. They became sensations while still in their late teens, but they had to move back to England from their adopted Australia to do that.
Right around the time they left Australia for England they had their first huge hit in Australia and New Zealand, “Spicks and Specks,” released in 1966. Follow the link for a humorous video they made at the time, around ages 16 for the twins and 19 for Barry.
The B side of the single was the song “I Am the World.” It’s not one of my absolute favorites of the Bee Gees, but I do like it considerably.
“I Am the World” was recorded when Robin Gibb was 16. He wrote it himself, around then or some time before that. Although most Bee Gees songs were written by all three together, there were quite a few written by each of them alone, and this is one of the first songs Robin ever wrote solo. Perhaps it’s even the very first, which could account for its holding a special enough place in his heart for him to rerecord it much later.
Here’s his version at 16:
And here is Robin’s rerecording in 2008 at the age of fifty-eight, just four years before he died (the album on which it appears was released posthumously). I don’t know whether he was already ill when he made this recording, but I think he may have been, because photos from the time show him to be extremely thin. At any rate, he was certainly never the same after his twin Maurice died suddenly of a heart attack in 2003, and that is also when the Bee Gees ended as a group because of the death and the importance of Maurice (Mo) to their unique sound.
This second arrangement is somewhat different from the first one, and he seems to have taken the key down a notch. In Robin’s voice the ensuing years of experience, love, and loss can be heard; this is no longer an exuberant 16-year-old singing.
I am quite fascinated with the changes in people’s singing as they age. The voices themselves sometimes degenerate at least somewhat in quality (although I don’t hear much of that decline here with Robin, except for his taking it down to a slightly lower register). But they often gain so much in depth that the later versions bring tears to the eyes when the first versions don’t.
Each has its pluses and I’m not sure which one I prefer in this case. I like the soaring high notes of the younger version, but the rich complexity of the bittersweet feeling in his voice in the second is more touching.
The contrast is more touching still.
It reminds me somewhat of the two versions Glenn Gould made of “The Goldberg Variations” by Bach. That may seem an odd comparison to you, but not to me. The “voice” of his piano was quite different when Gould was an energetic and eager wunderkind at the start of his career, compared to when he reflected back at fifty, bringing to his later rendition a wealth of experience not long before he died. I prefer Gould’s later version, although in a few sections I think it verges on being too slow.
Here they are:
Notice that you can sometimes hear Gould singing along very softly. He didn’t want to do it, but he said it just happened. I once read that Gould’s mother, who was his earliest piano teacher, was also a singer, although I can’t find anything on that at the moment. I did find this:
[Gould] often hummed or sang while he played, and his audio engineers were not always successful in excluding his voice from recordings. Gould claimed that his singing was unconscious and increased in proportion to his inability to produce his intended interpretation from a given piano. It is likely that this habit originated in his having been taught by his mother to “sing everything that he played”, as his biographer Kevin Bazzana puts it. This became “an unbreakable (and notorious) habit”. Some of Gould’s recordings were severely criticised because of this background “vocalising”. For example, a reviewer of his 1981 re-recording of the Goldberg Variations opined that many listeners would “find the groans and croons intolerable”.
I find them fascinating, an attempt by Gould to get even closer to the music and to somehow become it. Isn’t that what singing is?
https://observer.com/2015/12/the-great-groaning-pianists/
an attempt by Gould to get even closer to the music and to somehow become it. Isn’t that what singing is?
It’s the most primal and direct expression of the music inside the player – it has to be formed before finger-wiggling or whatever acts start the mechanical processes of playing it on an instrument, which are really a long chain of remove from the music inside the player to the ears of hearers.
There’s a word for it: solfege—as in sol, fa (mi, re, do). It’s a practice discipline, I believe, to teach the musician to make instrumental music as naturally as singing. An intentional display: https://youtu.be/ok__l1Acuwg?t=218.
The Glenn Gould Foundation has released more and more material by Gould in recent decades.
And YouTube has given us much more footage by an early audio recording fanatic to pandemic times have given us long periods to absorb Gouldcand time for us to examine his performances.
Take the video Gould, for example. His physical decline (in part the result of an early in life spinal injury), and maladjustment to personal technique (eg, pulling down ward on the keyboard from a custom piano bench), and the long-term mangling of his torso becomes obvious through his 1981 Goldberg Variations video recording, for example.
Thus, Glenn Gould died prematurely in his early 1950s (1980s).
The ascetic Gould was a myth of his own public creation. Yet a multitude of sources unearthed in recent decades, paradoxically, show us that Gould had an active and remarkable love life.
Thus, legends are rewritten. Old and firm legends give way to complexity. And the early passing of Gould into history grows more lamentable, not less.
Still, Gould lived out his life as he saw fit for himself — ie, wilfully.
My big Gould revelation of 2020 has been the the great wide range of performing interests in the piano literature.
Such depths did I know, yes. But had never before experienced through his minds before.
Amazing and powerful.
Neo– about Glenn Gould’s parents– I came across this info. about them on the blog of a musicologist: “[Gould’s] father, Herbert Gould, was a professional
furrier who loved to sing and play the violin. His mother, Flora Gould,
was a choir director at several of Toronto’s largest churches, and a sought-after
teacher of piano. From a very early age, Glenn Gould showed remarkable
musical talent. And this, it seems, confirmed in Flora Gould a hope she
had confided to a cousin years before her marriage—that her first child
would be a son, and become a musical genius. Flora herself had been frustrated by her marriage. When interviewed by [Gould’s] biographer . . . Herbert Gould explained that the reason his wife had not pursued the operatic career she so seriously had prepared for, was: ‘I came along at the wrong time…You see, in those days it would be unheard of for a married woman to pursue a career. Once you were married, why, you settled down to domesticity, and raised your children.'”
The blog writer goes on to say: “Very early Glenn Gould was encouraged by his parents to feel he was something special—a cut above other people. He was set free from household chores. He was warned to avoid large groups of people because of the danger of ‘germs.’ And, at first, he was educated at home—to spare him the stress of having to be with other, more unruly children. He knew his parents saw him as a superior child, and he liked it.”
https://edgreenmusic.org/aesthetic-realism-and-music-the-lives-and-work-of-great-musicians/how-much-should-a-man-care-for-besides-himself-on-glenn-gould-men-and-myself/
Gould’s closeness to his father as well as his mother is evident in the fact that the only chair he would use when performing concerts was a wooden chair his father had made; he used it even when the seat had become completely worn. “His chair is so closely identified with him that it is shown in a place of honour in a glass case at the National Library of Canada.”
Gould understood that Bach is the GOAT when it comes to composers, and that’s more than enough for me.
The “voice” of his piano was quite different when Gould was an energetic and eager wunderkind at the start of his career, compared to when he reflected back at fifty, bringing to his later rendition a wealth of experience not long before he died. — Neo
I was curious. Were the pianos themselves different? I believe Neo was mentioning “the ‘voice’ of the piano” in a broader sense, including how he played it. But the instrument itself counts there too, in addition to the sound it produces.
This was interesting:
TommyJay:
When I wrote “voice” I meant the way Gould played the instrument, in much the same way as someone like Robin Gibb would change the way he “played” his actual voice.
Many years ago, however, I was in an obsessed-with-Glenn-Gould phase, and I did read quite a bit about his quest for the perfect piano, although I wasn’t thinking about that when I wrote this post.
The Latter Gould for me. Although I can see why the super fast gotta run to the bathroom soon first recording was a big hit at the time.
In both cases, I like his singing. Same goes for being able to hear Rostropovich breathing a bit heavily in his old age recordings. Something human amidst all that perfection.
But this is best. Magisterial:
Wanda Landowska
https://youtu.be/4jS873pDWNs
And Yamaha are not going to let anyone forget that the second recording was done on a Yamaha:
“Yamaha Dear Glenn Project AI System Gives Concert in Style of Legendary Pianist Glenn Gould at Ars Electronica Festival”
https://www.yamaha.com/en/news_release/2019/19102301/
Another interesting comparison is Hilary Hahn playing the Sibelius violin concerto, at 16, and at 40. I love both, but they are very different.
… and I came here for more Bee Gees…
Actually, both Robin Gibb songs are fine, but not so special for me. His warbling vibrato bothers me. On the other hand, that second video, often cutting to 3 or 2 scenes, was quite cool. I’m pretty sure near the end there’s a second of him and Mo as baby twins, just before a few seconds of Robin with two Big Dogs.
Reminded me of the Steve McQueen first Thomas Crown Affair, with some occasional multi-screen simultaneous action.
Very interesting stuff on the search for the “perfect piano”, reminding me of hearing, reading really, about the search for making a new, Stradivarius quality violin.
I would have guessed that piano action, especially, could be made to be lighter or heavier. And that Steinway, or somebody, would be willing to customize/ make just the piano Gould would like.
And use.
And thus implicitly advertise.
Now I’m reminded of how so many products pay to get in the movies …
My mother was a serious, though far from professional, classical pianist. So I grew up knowing that Glenn Gould was God so far as the piano went.
I prefer the 1981 Goldberg too for the way one can sink in between the notes. Sometimes the wait is almost too long and one might fall into the void if the delay was a millisecond longer.
I enjoyed discovering that Gould loved Petula Clark and dedicated his first radio show to her:
______________________________________
…at that time, climbing fast on all the charts and featured hard upon the hour was an item called “Who Am I?” The singer was Petula Clark; the composer and conductor, Tony Hatch. . . . Released in 1966, and preceded the year before by “Sign of the Times” and “My Love,” it laid to rest any uncharitable notion that her success with the ubiquitous “Downtown” of 1964 was a fluke. Moreover, this quartet of hits was designed to convey the idea that bound as she might be by limitations of timbre and range, she would not accept any corresponding restrictions of theme and sentiment. Each of the four songs details an adjacent plateau of experience, the twenty-three months separating the release dates of “Downtown” and “Who Am I” being but a modest acceleration of the American teenager’s precipitous scramble from the parental nest. And “Pet” Clark is in many ways the complete synthesis of this experience. . . . She is pop music’s most persuasive embodiment of the Gidget syndrome.
–Glenn Gould, “The Search For Petula Clark (1967)”
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GJt6IwP8W6I
______________________________________
I can’t quite figure Gould’s shows out. His erudite delivery is over the top, almost Pythonesque, and I believe he knows it and that’s the part of the fun for him.
After he became classical music’s Rock Star, he chose to live life on his terms — like a rock star. Like the Beatles in fact. He didn’t want to perform live anymore, so he didn’t. Like the Beatles.
Good for him. I can’t think of any other classical musician who pulled off that maneuver and found a second act.
Very interesting stuff on the search for the “perfect piano”, reminding me of hearing, reading really, about the search for making a new, Stradivarius quality violin.
Tom Grey:
Coincidentally I watched a couple of YouTubes about Strads last night. (There are great non-fiction YouTube channels out there!) It seems they haven’t cracked the secret sauce to the Strad.
However, one video slyly pointed out at the end that in a double-blind experiment neither the performers nor the audience could pass the Pepsi Challenge on which was the Strad and which wasn’t.
I played the viola in middle school. My stepfather bought me a used one, which was certainly decent enough for my purposes. However, some years later I noticed a Latin inscription on the inside which, when translated, certified it been made by Stradivari in Cremona.
That was exciting! Sadly, it turns out there are plenty of fake Strads out there — to no one’s surprise.
Zaphod:
Back in 2007 there was an interesting Gould/Goldberg/Yamaha tech coup you may have missed.
A company called Zenph developed software which claimed to extract all the musical information — minus hiss, scratches, etc. — from old piano recordings and turn it into a script which Yamaha’s Disklavier Pro, effectively a player piano, could play. Then, they pointed the tech at Gould’s 1955 Goldberg mono recording.
–“Is It Live … or Yamaha? Channeling Glenn Gould”
https://www.nytimes.com/2007/03/12/arts/music/12conn.html
You can hear the result here:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LNOD1p4dGbs
@Huxley:
I stumped for the Zenph Gould recording as soon as I became aware of it back when. Also bought their Zenph re-edition of Oscar Peterson. Listened a few times and then promptly forgot about them. Trying to remember why… I think because not huge fan of the Speedy Gonzalez Goldberg. As for Peterson, I’ve got a bunch of live recordings and just kind of forgot about the Zenph re-edition of what is (necessarily) studio solo stuff.
So just fired up the Zenph Peterson for a quick listen… Not bad.. but just doesn’t excite me. Immediately flipped over to You Look Good to Me (all time favorite Peterson track) from the 1990 Telarc Label Saturday Night at the Blue Note and it’s a lot less Uncanny Valley.
Just googled and seems they also did a Zenph Art Tatum which could be interesting. Oh.. and a search of Apple Music found a Rachmaninov too.
https://usa.yamaha.com/news_events/2008/20080619_sony-bmg-masterworks-and-zenph-studios-releases-re-performance-of-legendary-art-tatum-concert_us.html
All a bit confusing, seems it’s not just a Yamaha thing:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Steinway_D-274
Apparently the Rachmaninov recordings were replayed on a Steinway.
Not many relevant google results, so the Zenph thing seems to have been a flash in the pan.
But maybe these re-interpretations could make a comeback. Could imagine deep learning being used to build models of performers’ pianism from sound recordings and video and then going to town with sound and light on pieces they had never recorded. Who knows? Not sure how much of a market there would be for a Hentai Yuja Wang Piano Concerto Number 1.
Almost unnecessary. Here she is at Carnegie Hall doing what she likes to do:
https://youtu.be/fjQyoD3kGwA
Ends well. Ms Wang is always good for an Encore.
Lots of stuff can happen to a person over a decade or decades. It could well affect his singing in the shower.
Can he haul up the difference in live performances, or in studios for recording?
I have a couple of things in my background but could I summon them up to inform my performance in the Legion Hall north Fargo last January? Five days plus two on Saturday?
Zaphod:
Wow. You got further into Zenph and jazz than I realized.
I like the idea of Zenph and appreciate a cleaned-up version of Gould, but my hearing has taken some hits and I don’t get into audiophile nuances.
I’ve been going back to cover my bases with older jazz. Are you listening to any of the newer stuff?
@Huxley:
Newer Stuff…
Bebop I can take or leave. Small doses.
If I owned an elevator, I’d pipe Jamiroquai into it.
I’m probably a Jazz Stalinist. Jazz Nazi would be a hard act to pull off. I like pianists like Peterson and Previn paired up with guys like Ray Brown and Joe Pass… those kinds of recordings. Dave Brubeck anything for sure.
Any kind of Jazz Flute I’ll give a try — been on its case ever since watching Bullitt — there’s a wordless restaurant/club scene always sticks in my head.
Anything Jobim / Ana Caram works for me too.
What do you think is worth checking that’s modern? Good thing about streaming is that can try out much more easily these days.
@Huxley:
Can see the flautist in a still from the film:
http://reelsf.com/reelsf/bullitt-coffee-cantata
Did you ever go anywhere near Coffee Cantata / Betelnut in your SF days?
For Gould fans…
“Glenn Gould: The Russian Journey” –
A documentary on Gould’s 1957 concert tour of the Soviet Union:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EeGnbm15SvE
(Also of interest, perhaps, to those seeking a peek inside the Soviet Union of the early Khrushchev years…as well as to those who wish to observe just how much Russians, especially young Russians, thirsted for culture amidst—because of(?)—the Communist repression.)
Love both versions of “I Am The World”, really admirable.. Robin is Genius
Zara A:
Glad you liked them.
I recently noticed that he changed the second line in the first verse of the earlier version – “I give my love to you” – to this one in the later version: “I give my soul to you.”
I think that’s significant of the change in him over time.
Young or old, Robin had a voice like no other: soulful, soaring, tremulous and utterly unique. He truly had a gift.