In the circles of vocal experts, “blood harmony” refers to the unique and instinctive vocal blend that only siblings have when singing together. Purportedly as a result of shared genetic, emotional, and familial backgrounds.
In music, it’s probably most used in the genres of bluegrass and country of a past era, as the Louvins, Stanleys, Delmores and Monroes can attest to. Harmonizing rock brothers or sisters are rarer, but the duo who fits the bill the most (who also, not surprisingly, have one of four feet in country music), are Phil and Don Everly.
Whether it’s their more uptempo material (“Bird Dog,” “Cathy’s Clown,” “’Til I Kissed You,” “Bye Bye Love,” “Wake Up Little Susie”) or emotional tearjerkers (“Let It Be Me,” “That Silver Haired Daddy of Mine,” “All I Have to Do Is Dream”), there is something that certainly sounds ethereal there based on biology.
So, it’s no surprise that journalist/author Barry Mazor’s new bio on the brothers is titled Blood Harmony: The Everly Brothers Story (416 pp., $32, Da Capo Press).
Starting with their run as child performers behind their parents’ stage-and-radio country music act through teen idol-dom, they often fall into the pre-assigned roles of “strong willed Don and clash avoiding Phil” that they would (mostly) live up to for the bulk of their lives.
Outside of plenty about their music, digs into the drug and alcohol usage of both brothers—especially Don’s addiction and use of Ritalin decades before that name entered the vernacular. He also shows how the Everlys’ country-rock sound laid the groundwork and predated the rise of the blended genres’ popularity in the wake of the Byrds, the Band, Flying Burrito Brothers, and Eagles.
It’s also interesting to note that, for such an American-sounding and rooted act, the brothers were far more popular in the UK than their own home turf not just during their peak, but afterwards. Members of the Beatles and Rolling Stones would seek them out when they played there.
And two teen fans named Graham Nash and Allan Clarke would practically stalk them at hotels and outside of venues just to get some face time or musical advice. Not long before the pair would decide to start their own group named for another early U.S. rock and roll icon—The Hollies.
Mazor details how hard it was to find material that would hit after their initial run of successes dried up—and how the brothers often wanted to go in separate musical directions. It only made their feuding and disagreements even more intense.
One myth the book busts is that the brothers famously “broke up onstage” during an ill-fated July 1973 show at Knott’s Berry Farm. That saw Phil smash his guitar onstage and walk off, leaving a somewhat inebriated Don to finish the show alone. Mazor points out that it was already scheduled to be their last performance together before a separation.
They spent the years 1973-82 apart, a highly successful UK reunion concert (one broadcast on the then-fledgling cable television channel HBO) kickstarted their career, leading to more records (a couple of which were quite good) and touring.
The animosity could still be there, as when Don sued Phil for sole writing credit on “Cathy’s Clown,” perhaps instigated by the success (and royalties) Phil was accruing from tunes under his name only, as when Linda Ronstadt had a huge hit with a remake of “When Will I Be Loved.”
Phil Everly was the first to die in 2014 at the age of 74, followed in 2021 by Don at 84. Who by that time had married his fourth wife, less than half his age, that roiled relations with his own children and even crept into business both during and after.
With the publication of last year’s bio Crying in the Rain by Mark Ribowsky, Everly Brothers fans now have two solid and recent books on their heroes. Though this title may have the edge in terms of which would be considered the “definitive” take on these blood harmonicists sprung from the lands of Kentucky, Iowa, and Tennessee.
