Maurice Gibb, the linchpin of the hugely successful but critically underrated Bee Gees, died yesterday in hospital after collapsing at his home in Miami, Florida, last week.

The 53-year-old star, who played and sang on hits including Tragedy and Jive Talkin’, had appeared to show signs of recovery this weekend after suffering a heart attack during an operation to remove an intestinal blockage.

On Saturday, he opened his eyes and squeezed his daughter’s hand, but his condition rapidly deteriorated again. His second wife Yvonne, 51, and their children Adam, 25, and Samantha, 26, were with him when he passed away at 1am.

They had been by his bedside at the Mount Sinai medical centre since his emergency surgery on Thursday night and were joined by the other Bee Gees: Gibb’s elder brother Barry and twin brother Robin, who had flown in from London.

“It is with great sadness and sorrow that we regretfully announce the passing of Maurice Gibb this morning,” his family said in a statement.

“His love and enthusiasm and energy for life remain an inspiration to all of us. We will all deeply miss him.”

Gibb – described by his twin as the “outgoing, gregarious” member who held the group together – spent the last weeks of his life working on an album with Barry and Michael Jackson.

Like Jackson, the Bee Gees are one of the top five acts of all time. They sold 110m records worldwide, notched up number one hits in four consecutive decades and last year received CBEs.

Among the hits they penned were Massachusetts, How Deep Is Your Love, Islands In The Stream and the soul classic How Do You Mend A Broken Heart. Their songs were covered by stars such as Frank Sinatra, Janis Joplin, Otis Redding and Al Green as well pop acts including Steps and Take That.

But their huge popularity and knack for unforgettable hooks never won them credibility.

They were derided as 70s medallion men and cruelly, if accurately, parodied by spoof group The Hebegeebees in the hit Meaningless Songs In Very High Voices.

Paul Trynka, editorial director of the music magazine Mojo, said yesterday that people had begun to reassess the Bee Gees in the last few years: “They were as inventive as many other bands who are better regarded. Their songwriting was pretty original; they had a unique sound. But we tend to resent people who are too successful and I think they suffered from that.

“They were great songwriters – appreciated by people like Lennon and McCartney – and albums like Odessa are regarded as lost classics. Their catalogue isn’t without its turkeys, but they experimented and kept trying and that’s quite rare.”

The trio, who were born in the Isle of Man but grew up in Manchester, began singing in clubs near their home as chil dren. By 1967 they were topping the charts.

Gibb loved the high life, partying with the Beatles, Michael Caine and David Bowie, and marrying Lulu in 1969. Their marriage soon fell apart as his drinking got out of hand. He would later go into rehabilitation, relapsing briefly when his younger brother Andy died in the late 80s.

Yesterday Chris Hutchins, the group’s former press agent, said Gibb’s alcoholism had affected his health.

“His drinking did upset his system; he was greatly weakened by what he put himself through,” he told BBC Radio 5 Live, adding that Gibb was a “tormented soul” who longed to be the group’s front man.

But the brothers rode out their troubles, proving remarkably resilient. Their career seemed to be over when their record label refused to release an album in the early 70s. But by the end of the decade they had rebounded with the multimillion-selling soundtrack to Saturday Night Fever. The resulting string of hits, including Stayin’ Alive, Night Fever and More Than A Woman, pigeonholed them as a disco act. In fact, as they acknowledged, their sound was “blue-eyed soul”.

“Maurice was the talented multi-instrumentalist. I mean here’s a guy who played keyboards, guitar, bass and percussion,” the DJ and writer Paul Gambaccini told BBC London 94.9 yesterday.

“He was the high part of the three-part harmony. Maurice himself said ‘One of us is OK, two of us is pretty good, but three of us together is magic.'”