The Everly Brothers

There’s nothing quite like the sound of different branches of a family tree intertwining themselves in song. The Mills Brothers, the Louvin Brothers, the Beach Boys – the history of popular music is filled with fraternity (and sorority too, let’s not forget that for every Osmond, there’s an Andrews, for every Jackson, there were some Pointers). And no two brothers ever sounded better than Don and Phil, the Everly brothers. Raised on sugar sweet harmonies and rhythm and blues, the Everly Brothers combined both to explosive effect, and, in 1960, earned the music industry’s ultimate accolade by being the first group to reportedly sign a million dollar deal.

I first got to know the Everly Brothers through Su, the modern dance teacher at Interlochen and my mom’s best friend for years. Su was also my champion growing up. Su would relentless make fun of my mother and her quirks, which was a godsend to an only child of a single parent. She let me in on the joke that my mom was crazy and that that was all right. When my mom used to get tense, she would become hypersensitive to small random noises – forget going to a movie theater with people eating popcorn if things weren’t going well at home. She used to try to talk me into sucking my Cracker Jack before biting it so it wouldn’t make so much noise. And that was when things were going relatively well. When things were bad, I’d have to go outside to breathe. I was once banished to a hotel bathroom to eat some peppermint crunch ice cream, and then had to turn the fan on so it would cover the sound of the cracking candies that were seeping out of my (closed) mouth, through the (closed) bathroom door and across the room to where my mom was trying to watch TV. I think the pinnacle was when she yelled at her mother, Oma, for darning socks in the same room because the virtually inaudible “pop” that the needle made going through the fabric was driving her crazy. I don’t know why she bothered being driven crazy, she was clearly close enough to walk there. Su just about wet herself laughing over that one. It was fun and funny to have her around, but it was also a great relief and a good reality check, and I’m grateful that she was there for those early years in Michigan.

She also helped me immeasurably as a dancer. Not so much for the technique, although that was a great counterpoint to the rigidity of ballet (she was of the José Limon school, which was centered around lunges and carrying momentum through circular movements as opposed to the more well-known Martha Graham school, which was based more on contractions), but more for the politics. I was in an awkward situation as a dancer at Interlochen. My mother was the head of the dance department, so everybody assumed she played favorites with me. However, because she was afraid of being accused of favoritism, she was actually (by her own admission) a lot harder on me than she was on anybody else. If I managed to get an A in her class, everybody else would assume I got it because I was her son, but I really had to kill myself to get her to recognize that I was doing good work. Plus, consciously or not, my mother did not want me to be a dancer, and that, no doubt, played into it as well. Fortunately, Su was there to temper her and argue that I really did belong in the upper levels and I really did deserve to perform and I had really earned my graduation honors. Without her, I wouldn’t be surprised if I was never allowed to become a dance major.

Su was a California girl (just look at her name, for god’s sake), and would drag the Everlys out whenever the snow of Michigan got to be too much for her. She’d start nodding her head and shaking her hips to Be Bop a Lula and, especially, Rip It Up and, for a few golden minutes, she’d be back on the beach. She used to make fun of me for the music I started listening to (join the crowd), but I would point out that her favorite group sang “gee whiz” with a straight face and that would pretty much shut her up.

The Everly Brothers are pretty gee whiz with a straight face, and that’s all right with me (mama). This track, one of their best and best known, is from a collection of classics that no home should be without. You never know when you’re going to need a dose of When Will I Be Loved, or Let It Be Me, to open a little crack of California sunshine into your heart. Or, All I Have to Do is Dream, one of the best harmony songs ever written. Take your choice of parts, then back it up and sing along to the other one – both parts are great. Forget how sophisticated you are, forget how many times you’ve been around the block, try to let go of that Is That All There Is? ennui. Open up your heart like a newly minted teenager and sing along.

I would also recommend Walk Right Back, a 2-CD collection summarizing their years at Warner Brothers – after they’d already signed that groundbreaking ten-year deal. Because of the security of the contract, the Brothers Everly were able to stretch out a little bit and though the collection is short on hits (Cathy’s Clown is about as big as it gets), it is long on weirdness and well worth the price of admission for such gems as Radio & TV, True Love, and the outrageously melodramatic It’s All Over.

People roll their eyes when the Everly Brothers are mentioned, and dismiss them out of hand as being corny and old-fashioned. Well, I don’t care how cynical you are, everybody needs a little gee whiz in their drab miserable lives.