Reaching For The Stars, Vol. 126

Chart Week: April 22, 1978
Song: “More Than A Woman” – Tavares
Chart Position: #34, 17th week on the chart. Peaked at #32 the week of May 6.

When I was a young music fan, any statement Casey Kasem made on American Top 40 was accepted as an absolute fact. What Walter Cronkite was to adults, Casey was to me. Today when I listen to an old show, I often hear the publicist-crafted bullshit for what it was.

In this countdown, Casey related the tale of how an act of extreme generosity by the biggest band in the world gave Tavares a ride on the Saturday Night Fever hit express.

While on vacation in the Bahamas in 1976, Barry, Maurice, and Robin Gibb, aka The Bee Gees, attended a show by fellow brother act Tavares. They were big fans of Tavares, who at that point had five pop Top 40 hits to their credit, including 1975’s #10 “It Only Takes A Minute.” The Gibbs were so impressed by the performance that they went backstage afterwards and offered a song they had just written to the Tavares brothers. Tavares happily accepted and soon cut “More Than A Woman.” The Bee Gees also recorded the song, and each landed on the SNF soundtrack and was featured in the movie.

The Tavares’ take was released as a single in late 1977, just before SNF became an unstoppable phenomenon. In Casey’s words, it bombed. It barely snuck into the Hot 100 and barely moved for four months. However, as the movie took off and the Bee Gees began dominating the pop chart, “More Than A Woman” finally gained some traction.

Which was problematic, because RSO Records planned to release the Bee Gees’ interpretation as their next single. The label had taken out ads in trade publications promoting it, and pressed copies to send to radio stations. Surely this would be the band’s fourth-straight #1 hit, right?

Well, as Casey related, both the Bee Gees and RSO reconsidered their strategy. Not wanting to compete with their own song, they cancelled the release in the US and UK. Casey even claimed the Gibbs didn’t want to “be greedy” after topping the chart with three consecutive songs and being responsible for a total of six records in the Top 40. They wanted to give Tavares the best shot at their own hit.

Lovely story! I bet six-year-old, bright-eyed, new to AT40 me ate it up, accepting it as a wonderful gesture and bored my mom when I shared it with her during a car ride.

In 2026 though? I don’t buy it. It seems like spin to me. I bet the Gibbs were a little pissed they weren’t going to get a crack at that fourth-straight #1. And perhaps annoyed that RSO put the Tavares version out first.

OK, maybe I’m wrong. The Gibbs have always seemed like pretty decent chaps. They had a genuine affection for Tavares. Perhaps they really were tickled that a song they wrote had launched Tavares back onto the pop chart. I should stop being so cynical and accept that sometimes the rich and famous do nice things for others, even at the expense of their own success.

It is fascinating how two songs written by the same person and recorded at roughly the same time can sound so different despite all the common elements.[1]

The first thing I notice when I listen to the Tavares version is how heavy it is. Not heavy as in rock or hardcore disco, but rather in that there is no empty space it in, no room for the song to breathe. Every nook and cranny is filled with instrumentation behind the brothers. There are horn blasts, a xylophone, even a hint of chicken-scratch guitar. This was supposed to be a thoughtful ballad. All that maximalist noise defeats the lyrical intent.

Worst of all is that freaking flute. It whips through the song like a demented bird, assaulting your ears with its high pitched notes.

Their rendition, as you would expect, sounds very much like an updated take on classic soul. That update, of course, has a solid disco base. However, it is not the disco you think of first, with a dense bottom beat and infectious groove. Rather, it is the slow dance version of disco, that had roots in schmaltzy, cocktail-hour music. When I hear it I think of a dance at a country club of that era, where the intended audience was all old, rich white folks and the band didn’t want to get too modern, lest it offend all the blue hairs. There were no calls for racial equality or the liberation of queer people in this song. Just an excuse to the old fogies to sway a little before dessert.

Fortunately the Tavares brothers saved the song with their vocals. As noted, this sounds like a pure soul song from any time in the previous decade or so. The brothers really shine when they harmonize. The backing vocals in the verses and chorus are the strongest parts of the track. I like the little improvised lines at the end, which again recall classic soul.[2] If the music had been dialed back just a touch, this song would absolutely soar thanks to the vocals. Instead, we get musicians and singers competing for space, and a lesser song as result.

While the Bee Gees’ version was never issued as a single, it, inarguably, has always been better known. It eventually became a radio hit despite not having a 7” release. It is generally considered one of the group’s most well-known songs. That is mostly because it got sucked into the vortex that was Everything Gibb at the time. I bet most people who were alive in 1977 would say the Bee Gees’ recording of “More Than A Woman” was the actual hit.[3]

When I was a kid listening to my parents’ copy of Saturday Night Fever, I’m almost positive I preferred the Tavares version. Today, after listening to both several times, the Bee Gees’ strikes me as the more successful track. Barry Gibb knew to dial things back just enough to make a bigger impression. Where everything in the Tavares record feels pushed to the limit, there’s a casual feel to the Bee Gees’ effort. It is maybe a quarter beat slower. Features a soothing, reserved electric piano rather than that annoying flute. The Tavares song sounds thoroughly professional, an established act really going for it. It almost has theater vibes, where the producer was intent on letting every audience member feel every note. In contrast, the Bee Gees come off more relaxed, knowing there is enough power in the song that they don’t need to push everything to 11 to have an impact.

I’m still not sure I trust Casey’s explanation of how the Bee Gees stepped aside so Tavares could earn a hit with “More Than A Woman.” It’s a shame that Tavares’ single stalled in the 30s, and they didn’t have the chart run that Yvonne Elliman was having with a Gibb SNF song at the same time. In the spring of 1978 I would have given this an 8/10. In the spring of 2026, I have to knock it down a notch. 7/10