Released in 1969 on the album Odessa, “First of May” stands as one of the Bee Gees’ most tender and nostalgic ballads. Sung by Barry Gibb with a purity that captures both innocence and melancholy, the song reflects on childhood memories and the emotional shift that occurs as time pulls people in separate directions. Unlike the dramatic storytelling of their later work, “First of May” whispers its meaning gently, like a memory revisited in soft light.
The song opens with one of the most delicate melodies in the Bee Gees’ catalogue.
A simple piano figure sets the emotional tone — peaceful, wistful, almost fragile. Strings enter cautiously, never overpowering the intimacy of the arrangement. The production feels like a quiet room where a single voice is allowed to speak from the heart. Barry’s vocal is warm and unforced, carrying the softness of someone remembering the past with both joy and ache.
Lyrically, the song reaches into universal experience.
“When I was small, and Christmas trees were tall…”
This is not merely a reference to holiday memories; it is a symbol of childhood itself — a time when everything felt larger, brighter, and filled with wonder. McCartney, Lennon, Dylan, and others have written about this transition, but the Bee Gees capture it with exceptional simplicity. The line reminds listeners of the moment when they realized the world had changed — or that they had changed.
As the verses unfold, the song gently introduces separation. A childhood friendship or early love fades not through conflict, but through the natural progression of life. The words are not bitter. There is no blame. There is only the quiet recognition that time moves forward and that innocence cannot be held forever.
The emotional center of the song arrives in its most poignant line:
💬 “Now we are tall, and Christmas trees are small, and you don’t ask the time of day.”
Here, the Bee Gees capture the heartbreak of distance created not by anger, but by adulthood. The lyric suggests that the two people once inseparable have gone on to different paths, and the narrator is left holding the memory of what once was. Barry delivers the line with aching gentleness — a man accepting the inevitable, yet still feeling the sting of loss.
Musically, the song avoids dramatic rises. Instead, it unfolds like a sigh. The arrangement remains restrained, allowing the emotional resonance to come through Barry’s phrasing. His voice cracks slightly in places, not from strain, but from honesty. This vulnerability is what gives “First of May” its timeless power.
The song’s release was overshadowed at the time by internal tensions within the group. Robin favored “Lamplight” as the single, and disagreements contributed to his temporary departure. Yet over the years, “First of May” has grown into one of the Bee Gees’ most treasured early works. Listeners return to it not for spectacle but for sincerity.
Ultimately, “First of May” is a song about tenderness —
the sweetness of early love,
the quiet sorrow of drifting apart,
and the way memory softens everything it touches.
A reminder that childhood leaves its mark,
and that some goodbyes are spoken only in the heart.