The old adage that says you can't go home again rings especially true for artists and musicians attempting to return to their artistic roots. Ironically, it's also what makes the Bee Gees' journey back to their '60s sensibilities feel like a gratifying, if unassuming, triumph. Indeed, while the songs here are possessed of the innate soulfulness and melodic flair familiar from their youth, they've wisely allowed disparate musical elements from their dizzying three-decade-plus career to season this collection, giving it a satisfying pan-generational sense that's as rewarding as it is rare. The title track sets the tone, with the brothers trading verses against a spare acoustic guitar and drum-kit backdrop. It's a bracing reminder that the Gibb brothers' locked-in harmony remains one of pop's enduring sonic archetypes. While they've never completely shaken the cultural stereotyping of their late '70s megaplatinum doses of disco fever, there are few remnants of it here, save for the insistent drum loop. Given their longevity and pervasive insider influence, it's sometimes a historical riddle to figure out who's influencing whom, from the distinct ELO-isms of Robin's "She Keeps on Coming" and Maurice's "Man in the Middle" to Barry's singular balladry on "Loose Talk Costs Lives." And lest anyone think it's strictly a '60s-'70s love fest, the Gibbs toss in a good-natured nod to Tin-Pan Alley ("Technicolor Dreams") and even a spirited, if somewhat ham-handed, post-modern romp ("Voice in the Wilderness"). More than anything, it's a record that argues that home is but a state of mind, and that the Bee Gees have learned more than a few things on the way back. --Jerry McCulley