Introduction:
How Deep Is Your Love: The Song, The Lawsuit, and the Question That Never Quite Faded
“Know your eyes in the morning sun…”
The world fell in love the moment that line first floated across radio waves.
By the late 1970s, Barry Gibb and his brothers were at the top of the world. Their voices defined the era. Their songs weren’t just hits; they were cultural landmarks. How Deep Is Your Love, Stayin’ Alive, and Night Fever didn’t just top charts—they became the soundtrack of a generation.
But behind the gloss of Saturday Night Fever and the glitter of global success, a quiet storm was forming. A lawsuit was filed. A claim was made. A melody that touched millions was suddenly accused of being stolen.
And the music world held its breath.
The Man Who Heard His Own Song on the Radio
In a quiet Chicago suburb lived Ronald H. Selle, a former musician and composer who had never found the fame he hoped for. He wrote original songs, recorded demos, mailed them to publishers, and waited for a break that never came.
Then one day in 1977, he heard How Deep Is Your Love on the radio.
He stopped cold.
The chords.
The melodic shape.
The emotional rise in the chorus.
To Selle, it was his song—Let It End, written two years earlier.
And the thought that someone else was being celebrated for what he believed was his creation cut deeper than any disappointment he’d known before.
David vs. Goliath
In 1980, Selle did something unimaginable for a man with no fame, no industry connections, and no money behind him.
He sued the Bee Gees.
His claim was not just that the songs sounded alike—it was that the Bee Gees must have heard his demo, directly or indirectly, before writing their hit.
The courtroom battle that followed became one of the most fascinating music copyright trials in American history.
When the songs were played back-to-back in court, even the jury heard it.
The resemblance was undeniable.
The melodies flowed into each other as though they were one.
The jury ruled in Selle’s favor.
For a moment, the impossible had happened.
The unknown songwriter had defeated one of the biggest bands in the world.
The Appeal That Changed Everything
But the law doesn’t run on emotion.
It runs on proof.
And there was no proof—none—that the Bee Gees had ever received, heard, or even had access to Selle’s demo.
On appeal, the decision was reversed.
The Bee Gees were cleared.
Not because the songs were different.
But because you cannot steal what you have never heard.
The case was closed.
What the World Learned
The lawsuit left its mark.
• Music publishers stopped accepting unsolicited demos.
• Artists began documenting every writing session.
• The industry became more cautious than ever.
And Barry Gibb—usually confident, instinctive, and fast in creativity—became more guarded.
He learned that when your music touches millions, someone somewhere will feel like it belonged to them first.
Years later, Barry said quietly:
“When a song connects with people, everyone feels like it’s theirs. Maybe that’s what makes it beautiful. And dangerous.”
Who Truly Owns a Melody?
How Deep Is Your Love has endured.
It plays at weddings.
It echoes in films.
It still moves hearts.
Selle’s song faded.
But his question didn’t.
Because the truth is this:
No song is born in a vacuum.
Every melody carries echoes of something older, something shared, something remembered.
So in the end, the lawsuit wasn’t just about Barry Gibb or Ronald Selle.
It was about us.
About why music matters.
About why we feel songs in our bones.
Maybe the melody belongs to whoever sings it.
Or whoever wrote it.
Or whoever loves it.
Maybe the real answer is simpler:
A song belongs to everyone who needs it.