It is a strangely quiet song. No drums. No heavy bass. Just a weeping piano and an orchestra that feels like it’s drifting away into a thick London fog. When people talk about the greatest Bee Gees tracks, they usually scream about the falsetto-fueled disco era or the early Beatles-esque harmonies of "To Love Somebody." But Bee Gees First of May is something else entirely. It’s the sound of childhood ending.
Ironically, it was also the sound of the band ending. At least for a while.
Most fans don’t realize that this delicate ballad was the literal "final straw" for the Gibb brothers in the late sixties. We aren’t talking about creative differences or typical rockstar ego trips. We’re talking about a full-on family fracture over a B-side.
The Dog, the Date, and the Drama
Let’s get the weirdest fact out of the way first: the title has nothing to do with a girl. Or a spring festival. Or even a calendar date, technically. Barry Gibb eventually admitted in the liner notes for the Tales from the Brothers Gibb box set that the song’s title actually came from his dog. Specifically, it was the birthday of his Pyrenean Mountain Dog, Barnaby.
Barnaby was a massive, fluffy beast Barry and his wife Linda owned while living in an apartment near St. Paul’s Cathedral. It’s kinda funny when you think about it. You have this sweeping, melancholic masterpiece about the passage of time, and the title is basically a birthday shoutout to a pet.
But the recording of the song was anything but fluffy.
The track was recorded in late 1968 for their ambitious double album Odessa. This was the Bee Gees trying to be The Beatles. They wanted their own Sgt. Pepper. The album had a velvet-flocked red cover that literally gave the factory workers allergic reactions. It was expensive, grand, and messy.
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Barry and Maurice sat at a piano and hammered out the basic structure. Maurice played the chords, Barry started singing, "When I was small, and Christmas trees were tall..."
They kept it simple. The finished version is just Barry’s solo vocal, a piano, and Bill Shepherd’s lush orchestral arrangement. There’s no Robin. There’s no Maurice on harmony. And that was the problem.
Why Bee Gees First of May Caused a Breakup
Robin Gibb was hurt. Honestly, he was furious.
He had recorded a song for the Odessa sessions called "Lamplight." It was a classic Robin performance—trembling, high-stakes, and deeply operatic. He was convinced "Lamplight" was the A-side single. He believed it was his moment to shine.
But Robert Stigwood, the group's legendary and often ruthless manager, disagreed. He saw the commercial potential in Barry’s stripped-back, sentimental "First of May." Stigwood chose Barry.
Robin felt sidelined. To him, this wasn't just about one song; it was about the power dynamic of the brothers. He felt the management was favoring Barry’s leading-man looks and more conventional vocal style over his own unique vibrato.
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In early 1969, Robin walked out. He didn't just leave the studio; he left the band.
For over a year, the Bee Gees were essentially a duo of Barry and Maurice. Robin went off to record solo stuff like "Saved by the Bell," and for a minute there, it looked like the 1960s version of the Bee Gees was dead. All because of a song about a dog's birthday and tall Christmas trees.
The Hidden Meaning in the Lyrics
If you listen to the lyrics of Bee Gees First of May, you’ve probably felt that weird tug of nostalgia. It’s a song about how everything gets smaller as you get older.
"When I was small, and Christmas trees were tall."
It’s a perspective shift. To a kid, a Christmas tree is a giant, glowing monument. To an adult, it’s just something you buy in a lot and drag into the living room. Barry was writing about the loss of innocence. He was only in his early twenties when he wrote it, but he already sounded like an old man looking back at a life he couldn't get back.
The ending of the song is one of the most haunting in pop history. The orchestra fades out. The piano disappears. You’re left with just Barry’s voice, getting quieter and quieter, as he sings about someone else moving in from far away. He’s basically being erased from his own memory.
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Facts Most People Forget
- The Single Charted Well: Despite the drama, it hit number 6 in the UK and Ireland. It didn't do as well in the US, peaking at 37, but it became a massive evergreen hit in Japan and parts of Europe.
- The Orchestration: Bill Shepherd, the unsung hero of the Bee Gees' early sound, conducted the orchestra. He’s the one responsible for that "stately" feeling that makes it sound more like a classical piece than a pop song.
- Live History: Barry continued to play it long after the 60s. Even during the disco years, "First of May" would often pop up in their acoustic medleys. It was clearly one of his favorites, regardless of the pain it caused the family.
- The Tom Jones Performance: One of the last times the three brothers performed together before the split was on The Tom Jones Show in February 1969. They played "First of May." If you watch the footage, you can see the tension. Robin is there, but he’s not really there.
How to Listen Today
If you want to experience the song the way it was intended, you have to hear it in the context of the Odessa album. Don't just pull it up on a "Greatest Hits" playlist.
The Odessa album is a wild ride of country-rock, psychedelic pop, and weird instrumental interludes. "First of May" acts as the emotional anchor of the second half. It’s the moment of calm in a very chaotic, over-produced double record.
When you listen, pay attention to the way Barry's voice breaks slightly on the word "passed." It’s subtle. It’s human. It’s the kind of thing that AI or modern Auto-Tune would probably "fix," which would completely ruin the point.
What You Can Do Now
To really appreciate the complexity of the Bee Gees beyond the "Stayin' Alive" caricature, take these steps:
- Listen to "Lamplight" immediately after "First of May": You’ll hear exactly why Robin was so upset. It’s a completely different vibe, and you can almost feel the sibling rivalry vibrating through the speakers.
- Find the 2009 Deluxe Edition of Odessa: It includes the mono mix. Most people grew up with the stereo version, but the mono mix has a punchier, more immediate feel that makes Barry’s vocal sound like he’s standing right in front of you.
- Watch the 1997 "One Night Only" live version: Seeing Barry sing this as an older man gives the lyrics a whole new weight. The line "don't ask me why, but time has passed us by" hits differently when the singer actually has grey hair.
The Bee Gees eventually made up, of course. They always did. But "First of May" remains the definitive document of that first major crack in the foundation. It’s a beautiful, heartbreaking, and slightly weird piece of history that proved the Gibb brothers were always at their best—and their worst—when they were being most honest.