F. Scott Fitzgerald once famously declared that there are no second acts in American lives. It’s a good thing that the Bee Gees aren’t American, then, because they’ve had at least two very distinct acts in theirs: In the ’60s, they were pop princes, scoring one hit single after another. Then they seemed to go quiet for a few years, and you couldn’t have been blamed for thinking they were done. Suddenly, they re-emerged as the kings of disco in the late ’70s. Saturday Night Fever hit, and the rest is history. The second act, from a purely commercial perspective, was even bigger than the first.

When Odessa (Reprise Records/Rhino) was released in February 1969, the stereo format was still a rather recent phenomena. Many bands, including the Beatles, didn’t spend a lot of time concerning themselves with stereo mixes. They were something of an afterthought. For example, the stereo mixes for Sgt. Pepper were done in two days after the recording was finished, and the Beatles had left the studio.

On the other hand, great care was taken with the mono mixes. Since recording was for the most part done on four-track machines in those days, the mixing was done as the recording went on. Since there was only one speaker, great care was taken with the placement of the various sounds in the mono field. If you’ve had a chance to hear the the mono mixes of Sgt. Pepper, unavailable in the U.S. for years, you know what I mean.

Stereo was the new thing, however, and Americans got a steady dose of bad, sometimes absurd stereo versions of recordings that had really been intended to be heard in mono. One such album was the Bee Gees’ sixth album (fourth released internationally), Odessa. I have provided a little bit of recording history because the lavish 40th anniversary reissue of Odessa marks the first time that the crucial mono mixes have been available in the U.S.

While Odessa provides a wonderful musical experience, the original album is just as often remembered for its packaging. The double album came wrapped in a red flocked cover. Shortly after its release, it was alleged that workers at the plant that was making the covers were suffering from allergic reactions to the flocking, and the beautiful cover was discontinued. Subsequent reissues came in a more traditional sleeve, and in 1976, RSO Records edited the work down to a single LP, and put it out in a traditional cardboard sleeve.

Thankfully, Reprise remembers the original, and they have enrobed the new three-disc CD in the same red flocking that graced the original release. It’s not their fault that the prevalent format has changed to CD, making the package smaller than the grand LP format, but it’s a beautiful little box, worthy of the music contained within.

Speaking of music, maybe I’d better get to it.  (more…)