Introduction:
Barry Gibb stands today as the last surviving member of the Bee Gees, a band that not only defined the disco era but also reshaped popular music across generations. Together with his brothers Robin and Maurice—and with the memory of their younger sibling Andy—Barry helped craft timeless hits like Stayin’ Alive, How Deep Is Your Love, and Night Fever. These songs sold more than 220 million records worldwide, embedding themselves into the very fabric of modern culture. Yet for all his success, all the gold records and accolades, there remains one song Barry Gibb cannot bring himself to sing. For him, it is not just a piece of music, but the hardest song of his life.
That song is To Love Somebody. Released in 1967, it predates the Bee Gees’ disco fame and was originally written with the great Otis Redding in mind. After Redding’s tragic death, the song remained with the Bee Gees and went on to become one of the most beloved love ballads of all time. Covered by legends from Janis Joplin to Michael Bolton to Celine Dion, it has endured for decades as one of the greatest love songs ever written. But for Barry, its lyrics have taken on a meaning that is far too personal. Every time he hears it, he is reminded not of romance, but of loss.
Barry has lived through the unthinkable: the loss of all three of his brothers. Andy, the youngest, died in 1988 at just 30 years old. Maurice, the steady anchor of the group, passed away suddenly in 2003 during surgery. And Robin, Barry’s longtime creative partner, lost his battle with cancer in 2012. Once surrounded by brothers whose harmonies created magic, Barry now stands alone. Each time he tries to sing To Love Somebody, he hears the voices that are no longer there. For fans, it remains one of the greatest love songs of all time. For Barry, it is a wound that will not close.
What makes this story even more haunting is a revelation Barry shared in recent years: he has received a tape, a recording from one of his late brothers, that no one knew existed. The details are vague, and Barry has never confirmed its full contents, but rumors suggest it might include an unreleased version of To Love Somebody—one where Robin and Maurice’s voices join Barry in harmony one last time. If true, it would be nothing less than the holy grail for Bee Gees fans, a final reminder of the bond the brothers shared.
Yet, perhaps it remains unheard for a reason. Music gave the Gibb brothers fame and immortality, but for Barry, it also carries unbearable grief. Every hit is both a triumph and a reminder of loss. For audiences, the songs live on as joy, love, and nostalgia. But for Barry, they are also shadows of the family he buried one by one.
And so, the mystery lingers. Does the secret tape exist? And if it does, will Barry ever share it with the world? Or is it something too private, too painful, to ever leave his hands?