hen I came upon the new Bee Gees collection Love Songs, I was kindly reminded of a cover band I saw last year, charmingly named, the Bee Gentles. I remembered the night they played, and my stunned surprise when it was disclaimed no songs past the first two albums would be played. Now, if you knew I was born after the Welcome Back Kotter era, you may begin to understand my confusion at that moment: “You mean, no John Travolta ditties? What gives?” Yes, selfish and ignorant I was.

Along with the Bee Gentles, Love Songs reassures me that much of the Brother Gibbs’ best came before polyester. For starters, the collection begins with the absolutely wrenching, “To Love Somebody.” Released in 1967, a decade before Saturday Night Fever, it is arguably one of the best love songs ever. For, we all know, the love in question isn’t exactly being reciprocated. And in such cases of unrequited angst, there is little room, all too little time for string-pulling harmonies to get the point across. Instead, the Bee Gees ditch the falsetto, and go forth applying a clenched fist phrase here, a moment of last-minute desperation there. Even at its softest, the whole thing is pretty overwhelming. But the best part, the very best part, is a three second phrase that proves, once and for all, this gal hasn’t the faintest of what it’s like. Obviously. Picture it for a moment: The paranoid tenderness in the refrain “You don’t know what it’s like” over steady orchestra swells. Then, things softly sink into the convincing, fading whisper of “To love somebody...the way I love you”. And then…here we go… “AAAHHH NNOOOO! …You don’t know what it’s like!…”. That “ahh no!” right there? One of the greatest rock and roll lung-thrusts since Otis Redding’s breakdown in “Try a Little Tenderness.” It’s all about convincing them, and there’s nothing like a soul-shattering scream to do so.

The beginning of the collection follows this heartbroken theme, which, suffice to say, is the broader of sides, so all in all, it remains the stronger half. After the defiant “To Love Somebody,” things transition into the placid, school-boy somberness of “Words,” whereas the track “Lonely Days” sticks out for the Beatlesque harmonies; somewhere between the brighter psychedelia of “Strawberry Fields,” and the spookier trembles of "Because.” Following, is the tender ballad to naiveté “How Can You Mend a Broken Heart,” which goes forth carrying your eyes to their regretful corners, with classic lines such as “I could never see tomorrow / But I was never told / About the sorrow.”

And with all this sorrowful reflection, “How Deep is Your Love” comes as welcome relief. Truly, if “To Love Somebody” is their gritty best, this is their melodic smoothest. It gets no vinyl-shinier than this melody, no feather-softer than these harmonies. And as for lovey-dovey subject matter, the underdog couple always reigns supreme: “Cause we’re living in a world of fools / Breaking us down / When they all should let us be / We belong to you and me.” Tony and Stephanie never had it so good.

From here, we get one more SNF hit with “More Than a Woman,” the song that practically sowed the first white pantsuit. Then there are the songs that birthed 90’s covers: Destiny’s Child gave their own three-part harmonies to “Emotion,” a stunning disco dance/ballad hybrid, and then of course “Islands in the Stream,” which is perhaps most famous for giving “Ghetto Superstar” its pop-perfect hook.

“Too Much Heaven” and “Heartbreaker” make for a couple of lost-in-the-soft-rock-library gems. But after those stunning choruses, things fall into strange territory. “Juliet” drowns the characteristic vibrating Gibb vocals in “Lets Get Physical” aerobic video synths and “Closer than Close,” though released in 1996, sounds like a creepy 80’s song Foreigner wouldn’t touch. With the low whisper of the chorus, “I just want to get / Closer and closer to you” it is all too apparent a Bee Gee’s kind of sexuality is best left understated.

And yes, the collection closes up shop with “Wedding Day.” True, it’s a little idealistic to start with pit-of-the-stomach heartache, and give into a saccharine ending—but that’s too far off from the point of such a record. Because, when it comes down to it, anything Bee Gees should make for a smile, even when it’s sad (I say with uplifted brow). Because these are the songs drunk older brothers will sing in Italian restaurant karaoke contests. Songs, though you try to deny it, you will dance to at a 50th anniversary party at the VFW. Songs you will lip-synch with a perfected Barry G-swagger to your best friend. You may not fall in love to these songs, or perform any love-related activities (I hope), but you may just love them on their own. And that’s still love.