The Song That Carried More Than Its Brother

The Song That Carried More Than Its Brother

There are some records that you can hear dozens of times and still feel a little tug at the heartstrings.

“He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother” by The Hollies is one of them.

It has the sort of title that sounds almost conversational, but give the record a few seconds and you're swept into one of the most emotionally powerful ballads of the late 1960s.

And behind it is a remarkable story involving two songwriters, a terminal illness, a young session pianist called Elton John, a band recovering from the departure of Graham Nash — and, eventually, a second life at the top of the British charts nearly 20 years later.

Not bad for a song that began life somewhere other than The Hollies' studio.

It Started With Two Songwriters

“He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother” was written by Bobby Scott and Bob Russell.

Scott was an American musician and songwriter who had already enjoyed considerable success, including co-writing the music for “A Taste of Honey.”

Russell was a lyricist who had worked in the American music industry for years.

The two men were introduced by Johnny Mercer, and their collaboration was rather unusual.

Russell was seriously ill with lymphoma at the time, and the pair only met three times.

Yet somehow, from those meetings, came a song that would eventually become one of the most enduring recordings of the 1960s.

There's something rather poignant about that.

Two people barely had time to work together, yet their song would go on to outlive them both.

The Title Had Been Around for Much Longer

The phrase “He ain't heavy, he's my brother” wasn't invented specifically for the song.

Its roots can be traced back to a story published by Scottish minister James Wells in 1884, concerning a young girl carrying her baby brother.

The sentiment was subsequently repeated in other publications and became associated with Boys Town, the children's organisation founded by Father Edward Flanagan in Nebraska.

In other words, the songwriters weren't starting with a blank sheet of paper.

They were taking an established expression about compassion and responsibility and turning it into a deeply personal song.

And perhaps that's why the message is so immediately understandable.

You don't need a dictionary.

You don't need a degree in rock journalism.

It's about helping somebody you love when life has become difficult.

The First Recording Wasn't The Hollies

Here's a fact that often gets lost in the story.

The Hollies weren't the first artists to record it.

American singer Kelly Gordon recorded the song in 1969 for his album Defunked. His version was released before The Hollies' recording but didn't chart.

Then The Hollies got hold of the song.

And things changed rather dramatically.

Tony Hicks received a demo of the composition and recognised its potential. The band recorded their version at Abbey Road Studios in June 1969, only a few months after Gordon's recording.

Sometimes a song simply needs the right voice, the right arrangement and the right band.

The Hollies had all three.

A Very Different Hollies

By 1969, The Hollies were no longer quite the group that had dominated British pop earlier in the decade.

Most notably, Graham Nash had left the band in 1968, eventually becoming part of Crosby, Stills & Nash.

But The Hollies carried on.

Allan Clarke took the lead vocal on “He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother,” with Tony Hicks, Terry Sylvester, Bernie Calvert and Bobby Elliott providing the instrumental backing.

And there was one other musician in the studio who would become rather more famous in his own right.

A young pianist by the name of…

Elton John.

Yes, That's Elton John

Before the glasses.

Before the outrageous costumes.

Before Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, Wembley Stadium and the piano-shaped swimming pools…

There was a young Elton John working as a session musician.

He played piano on The Hollies' recording.

According to the story, he was paid £12 for the session.

£12.

It's one of those figures that makes you wonder whether anyone involved realised quite how valuable that particular piece of piano playing was going to become.

Still, I suspect Elton eventually got over it.

Allan Clarke Delivers the Goods

The Hollies had always been known for their vocal harmonies, but “He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother” gave Allan Clarke the opportunity to deliver something much more dramatic.

His performance starts relatively restrained and gradually builds in intensity.

The arrangement follows the same path.

Piano.

Strings.

Drums.

Guitars.

Vocals.

Everything gradually gets bigger without losing the emotional core of the song.

And that's the trick.

It would have been very easy to turn this into an enormous, overblown 1960s ballad.

Instead, the arrangement gives Clarke room to tell the story.

You believe him.

And that's why it works.

A Song About Carrying Someone's Troubles

At its heart, the song is beautifully simple.

The narrator is travelling along a difficult road with somebody who needs help.

That person is carrying a burden.

But the narrator doesn't see the burden as a burden.

Because he's his brother.

It's an idea that extends beyond literal brothers, of course.

It's about family.

Friendship.

Loyalty.

Compassion.

The willingness to help someone even when doing so makes your own journey harder.

And perhaps that's why the song has continued to find new audiences.

Everybody understands what it means to carry somebody else's load.

Sometimes we do it willingly.

Sometimes we complain about it.

And sometimes we discover that we're the one being carried.

Then It Became a Hit

The Hollies released their version in September 1969.

It reached Number 3 in the UK singles chart, spending 14 weeks in the chart, and also became a US hit.

It was a significant success for a band whose original lineup had already gone through some major changes.

And yet the story didn't end there.

Not remotely.

Nineteen Years Later… Hello Again

In 1988, “He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother” suddenly found itself back in the public consciousness.

The Hollies' recording was re-released after being featured in a Miller Lite beer advertisement.

And this time, British record buyers didn't merely give it another listen.

They sent it to Number 1.

The 1988 reissue spent two weeks at the top of the UK chart.

Think about that for a moment.

A song originally released in 1969 returned to the top of the charts in 1988.

That's nineteen years.

Different decade.

Different musical fashions.

Different generation.

And yet the same record still worked.

Quite an achievement.

It Wasn't Finished Yet

And then, just when you thought the song had said everything it needed to say, it got another remarkable chapter.

In 2012, a collective of musicians and celebrities known as The Justice Collective recorded a new version to raise money for charities associated with the Hillsborough disaster.

The recording featured, among others, members of The Hollies alongside Robbie Williams, Holly Johnson, Glen Campbell, Gerry Marsden, Mel C, Mick Jones and Beverley Knight.

It became the 2012 UK Christmas Number 1.

So a song written in 1969 had now topped the British chart in three different decades.

That's not merely longevity.

That's extraordinary.

Why Does This Song Still Work?

I think part of the answer is that it doesn't try too hard.

There's no complicated message.

No clever twist.

No attempt to be fashionable.

It simply says:

I'll help you.

And perhaps that is one of the most powerful messages a song can deliver.

We live in a world where everything seems to be getting faster, louder and more complicated.

Yet sometimes the songs that stay with us are the ones that remind us of something very basic.

Look after one another.

Don't leave somebody behind because they're struggling.

And if somebody you love needs carrying for a while…

Carry them.

One of Those Records That Takes You Back

For me, this is exactly the kind of song that belongs on In My Life Radio.

It takes me straight back to the late 1960s, when pop music could still move effortlessly between bubblegum pop, psychedelic experimentation, blues, soul and huge orchestral ballads.

But it also has something else.

It's one of those songs that seems to acquire new meaning as you get older.

When you're young, you hear a beautiful ballad.

As you get older, you understand the words differently.

You realise that life really is a long, winding road.

People get ill.

Relationships change.

Families grow.

Friends need help.

And sometimes, despite our best efforts, we all need somebody else to help carry the load.

That's when the song hits a little harder.

A Song That Refused to Grow Old

There are plenty of songs from 1969 that now sound unmistakably like records from 1969.

That's not necessarily a bad thing.

But “He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother” somehow escaped.

The production may belong to its era, but the sentiment doesn't.

That's why it could become a hit in 1969, return to Number 1 in 1988 and reach the top again with a charity recording in 2012.

Three generations found something in it.

And I suspect future generations will too.

Because the basic idea isn't going anywhere.

Sometimes the person beside you is carrying a heavy load.

And if they're your brother — or your sister, your friend, your partner, or simply another human being who needs a hand — perhaps the answer is wonderfully simple.

It isn't heavy.

He's your brother.

And that's quite a song to build a career around.

In My Life Radio… Every song has a story. Every life has a soundtrack...

The information provided in this post is for general informational and educational purposes only. While we strive for accuracy, we make no representations or warranties of any kind about the completeness, reliability, or accuracy of this information. Any action you take based on the content on this blog is strictly at your own risk.