There are certain records that don’t just mark time, they are time—a crystalline sample of a moment when disparate musical currents collided to form something utterly new. For me, the experience of dropping the needle on The Everly Brothers’ first major compilation, aptly if generically titled Some Of The Best (a name often applied to later, similar collections, but here referring to the seminal 1959 release, The Everly Brothers’ Best), always begins with the sound of a late-night AM radio. I imagine the dust-motes dancing in a pool of dim dashboard light, miles clicking by, and the car radio struggling to hold the signal. Then, it cuts through: two voices, inseparable, yet distinctly individual, singing of heartbreak with an almost unnerving sweetness.
This album is not a standard studio release, but rather a crucial summing-up of the duo’s revolutionary first act. Released in March of 1959 by Cadence Records, it neatly packages the astonishing run of success Don and Phil Everly enjoyed from 1957 to late 1958. It was on Cadence, under the careful supervision of label owner and producer Archie Bleyer, that the Everly Brothers forged the sound that would not only define their career arc but would also provide the very sheet music for the coming vocal groups of the 1960s—from The Beatles to Simon & Garfunkel. They took the “brother duet” style of Appalachian folk and country, a lineage Phil and Don had inherited directly from their performing parents, Ike and Margaret, and electrified it with the rhythm and blues pulse of rock and roll.
This piece of music, as a collection, is a masterclass in economy and emotional directness. Its tracks are a veritable timeline of early rock’s transformation. Listen to the very first strains of a tune like “Bye Bye Love.” The primary sound is that tight, high-lonesome harmony—Phil often taking the higher, keening line above Don’s slightly warmer anchor. But underneath that vocal shimmer lies a simple, propulsive rhythm section: bass, drums, and an acoustic guitar that provides the chugging bedrock.
The sound is distinctly Nashville, but an evolving Nashville. These are not the dense orchestral arrangements that would dominate pop in later years. The genius of the Cadence recordings lies in their uncluttered acoustic purity, a sound that benefits immensely from modern premium audio equipment. You can almost feel the air in the room, the sympathetic vibration of the strings. The instrumentation is sparse, designed only to frame the core miracle: Don and Phil’s almost telepathic harmony.
Consider the breakthrough moment of “Wake Up Little Susie.” It’s a teenage morality play condensed into two minutes. The rhythmic guitar strumming is aggressively percussive, pushing the narrative forward like a breathless confession. The brothers’ voices—their phrasing perfectly staggered and aligned—add a playful sense of panic. The entire arrangement, courtesy of Bleyer, is lean and muscular, a direct contrast to the sweeping romance of other numbers on the same album.
Then there’s the melancholy perfection of “All I Have to Do Is Dream.” Here, the texture shifts. While many Everlys records feature minimal use of the piano, this track introduces a dreamlike, echoing atmosphere. Chet Atkins’s famed echo-laden electric guitar comes into play, a gentle, sustained vibrato that weaves around the voices, making the heartbreak palpable. It’s a sonic signature, a simple addition that elevates a lovely melody into an atmospheric masterpiece. The vocals on this track are so seamlessly blended they form a third, phantom voice, hovering just above the melody line. It’s restraint in service of catharsis.
The collection, even at the time of its release, highlighted the duo’s astonishing versatility. They could deliver the rockabilly bite of “Bird Dog”—a playful, almost novelty tune—and follow it up with the pure, aching balladry of “Devoted to You.” Their ability to pivot between the youthful angst of a song like “Problems” and the deep, soulful commitment of their best love songs demonstrated a maturity that belied their age. This wasn’t just teen idol music; it was sophisticated, genre-blending artistry rooted in the deep grammar of American folk traditions.
“The Everly Brothers gave the world a new kind of singing, a perfect, tragicomic echo in the valley between country and rock.”
The Everlys’ influence on the landscape of popular music is difficult to overstate. They showed that two voices and one simple guitar accompaniment could be as powerful and as commercially successful as any full band. Their sound resonated globally, influencing the burgeoning Merseybeat scene in the UK, where acts paid close attention not just to their songs, but to the precise mechanics of their vocal blend. Their break with Bleyer and Cadence Records in 1960 for a lucrative deal with Warner Bros. marked a shift—away from the raw, Archie Bleyer-produced sound captured on this early album, and toward the more polished, often orchestral production of their early 60s period. But The Everly Brothers’ Best stands as the definitive document of their foundational years. It is the core of their genius, raw and unadorned. It is where the modern pop duet truly began. Re-listening to this collection today is a reminder that simplicity, when coupled with perfection, is the most profound kind of musical sophistication.
Recommended Listening: Echoes of the Everlys
- Simon & Garfunkel – “Old Friends” (1968): For the melancholy, hyper-literate lyricism built entirely around the intimate space of two harmonizing voices.
- The Louvin Brothers – “When I Stop Dreaming” (1955): Their country-gospel predecessor, showcasing the tight, often dissonant, “close harmony” that inspired the Everlys.
- Buddy Holly – “True Love Ways” (1960): A posthumous release that features the same Nashville session players and a similar gentle, acoustic rock-ballad sensibility.
- The Hollies – “Bus Stop” (1966): Demonstrates the British Invasion’s adoption of the Everly vocal formula, applying that perfect, close harmony to a contemporary pop structure.
- The Beatles – “If I Fell” (1964): Shows Lennon and McCartney deploying a complex, interlocking two-part harmony directly indebted to Don and Phil’s phrasing.