Music Review: The Younger Brothers, ‘Hanging on July’
The retro folk-pop duo is back with a second release—a harmony-drenched EP of pure bliss.
Younger Brothers, Hanging on July album artwork by Callie Connors, 2021
Do you ever feel, when listening to two or more voices in close harmony, your hair standing up on your head? Do you ever feel like the harmonies are lifting you by your shoulders and floating you above the world?
Just me, huh? But I wager most people find something thrilling about it. The voice is the most human of all instruments, and when multiple ones join forces, it’s magical.
That’s what initially drew me to the music of The Younger Brothers. Though Aengus Culhane and Cary Snider are not actually related—the band name comes from when they were thrown together in elementary school when their older brothers became friends—you’d be forgiven for thinking they were when you hear them sing together. (In fact, Culhane told me in an interview that he himself sometimes has trouble telling them apart when he goes back and listens to their recordings!)
So yeah, the beautiful harmonies—and quite often, simultaneous singing of melody, which has its own kind of magical quality—pulled me in, but what kept me mesmerized were the other elements that make their music so unique: smart, unexpected lyrics and stories and bright, almost innocent instrumentation that hearkens back to the 1960s and 70s. I struggle to categorize their music or give it a label that’ll make sense, but I usually fall back on “throwback folk-pop.”
Their self-titled debut album—which I fervently recommend you check out (go ahead, go listen to that and then come back; I’ll wait)—was so eclectic, I was left scratching my head after the first listen. But the more I listened (once you start it’s hard to stop), the more I got the sense that the unifying thread, besides their voices, was a sense of curiosity, empathy and optimism that pervades both the lyrics and the music itself.
Those were the only expectations I had coming into their new EP, Hanging on July (which drops November 19). The only thing that could have disappointed me is if I weren’t delighted and enchanted by whatever I encountered. And I’m happy to report that they didn’t let me down! Hanging on July is five songs’ worth of sheer intoxicating retro pleasure that keeps me coming back again and again.
Produced once again by Jacob Snider (Cary’s older brother), Hanging on July brings back the charm of The Younger Brothers but presents a more cohesive, mature sound than the first album. If that record was all exploration and creativity, this one feels like The Younger Brothers naturally defining and refining their sound. It’s not a departure so much as a clarification of the sounds on their debut.
Aengus Culhane (l) and Cary Snider (r) of Younger Brothers. Photo credit: photo credit: Jacob Snider
When reviewing new music, I love digging into the words and trying to tease out the stories hidden in them, but I find the lyrics of most of these songs slyly evade any definitive interpretation. Which I also love, but it makes it harder to write about them! I feel more comfortable talking about lyrics where the story is more or less clear—my interpretation isn’t always going to dovetail perfectly with the songwriter’s intention, but I probably won’t miss the mark too badly. This time, I’m not so sure.
Loosely, though, I think I can safely say these songs are mainly about love—finding it, losing it, dreaming of it. Anyway, I think on this particular record, the lyrics aren’t the star of the show. The real magic comes from the lush, bright soundscapes of each song created by layers of harmonies and instruments. Before I even paid attention to the lyrics, each song had its own emotional texture based on the sound alone.
The Younger Brothers cite The Beatles as a major influence, and even as a non-expert I can clearly hear that band’s influence on them—especially the latter part of their catalogue. It’s not just the vocals or the instrumentation (or the sly and fanciful lyrics), it's the feeling of light and dark intertwined. As Snider put it in our interview, “There’s a sweetness to Beatles songs. They can have a depth and darkness to them, but they round things out in this really calming and beautiful way.” That could be said of all five songs on Hanging on July.
The title track, which opens with the hum of insects—instantly taking me to summertime—is the sound of wistfulness and yearning personified. It starts with just acoustic guitars (including the distinctive ring of a 12-string), then adds harmonies and gradual layers of instruments. From a melodically employed bass (Jonathan Elyashiv) to subtle percussion (Mike Riddleberger) and soaring violin (Sienna Peck), they join in without fanfare but lift the song to ever greater heights. The lyrics seem to be about missing someone who’s departed, but the nature imagery was so strong I started wondering if it was really about a place instead of a person:
Summertime is all she had to offer him
Her ocean rise and orange skies
Walk a mile by her side
He suspects she’ll be back sometime
To keep him hanging on July
Either way, the sense of longing is visceral, but in a pleasant, bittersweet way, and with a touch of hopefulness mixed in.
The next song, “Sweet Thing,” may be about the same thing—someone hanging on to hope that the one they love will return—but takes us to a completely different place in terms of sound. Opening with a bouncy refrain, punctuated by handclaps, it calls to mind a jump rope song or schoolyard ditty—there’s a reason my nine-year-old can be heard absently humming it from time to time! With the playful addition of saxophone, banjo and even accordion (courtesy of Jacob Snider) to its instrumentation, this song is just pure 50s-60s pop pleasure, along the lines of “Lollipop” or “Build Me Up Buttercup.” The narrator may want the same thing as in “Hanging on July,” but their approach is much pluckier and more optimistic:
You know I’m no stranger, Love
I keep dreaming my dream
And believe you’ll be my sweet thing
There’s a house on the lake
Where we’ll spend all our days…
From the opening of soft acoustic strumming and harmonies, “Tomorrow” sounds like it’s going to take the EP back to a slower, quieter place. But beginnings can be deceptive, and the song soon develops a more driving energy thanks to decisive drums and a swelling chorus. It reminds me of how The Mamas & The Papas’ “California Dreamin’” starts soft and soon builds with rich layers of harmonies and instruments. Here we have a third take on how to deal with a departed love: stew over whether you’ve been played, and indulge in a little supposition about how, if they came back in remorse, you might not even take them back (“though if I did we would take it slow”).
Even though lyrically it sounds like the kiss-off is far from final, there’s a feeling of triumphant catharsis in “Tomorrow.” I found a BBC review that describes “California Dreamin’” as a “lament which somehow sounds like distilled joy,” and I wish I’d come up with those words myself to describe this Younger Brothers song, because that’s a perfect summation.
The next song, “Raging Storm,” belies its title with calm, soothing vocals and a swaying, leisurely rhythm. Sparse, cryptic lyrics full of nature imagery have the feeling of an incantation: “Moon follows sound again / Moon follows sound.” My sense of what this song is about shifts from line to line, so it’s one I just bliss out to as the harmonies build and soar, letting the evocative words paint pictures of moonlight and dawn and rainbows.
I’d be hard-pressed to pick a favorite track on this EP, but if I had a gun to my head, I might choose “Inner Woman”—in part because it stands apart from the others, I guess—it’s hard to explain why it’s so very appealing. Over half the songs in The Younger Brothers’ debut album at least started with some solo singing. When “Inner Woman” came on, I realized how almost every note of Hanging on July is sung in unison by Culhane and Snider (and sometimes the older Snider too)—whether they’re harmonizing or doubling up on melody. While that’s the case on most of this song as well, it’s the only one where one voice is brought forward more in the mix—breaking from their usual approach that creates an effect they call their “univoice.”
In “Inner Woman,” Snider’s voice when it emerges more clearly from the “univoice” takes on a Paul McCartney quality—a new tone I’d never detected before. The structure of the song is striking too—there are two short, what I guess you could call verses, though they’re more like preludes to the chorus. And then the chorus repeats several times, rapturous, euphoric. Playfully cryptic lyrics leave me wondering if we’re hearing about a real woman, an imaginary one, or Mother Nature. And then there are the weirdest, coolest instrumental breaks that include sax, a drum technique that I don’t actually have a word to describe, and possibly a glockenspiel? Well, I give up—you’ll just have to go hear it for yourself.
Hanging on July is an eclectic collection of songs, for sure, but not to the extent of The Younger Brothers’ debut album, which was delightfully all over the place both in sound and style and in the stories it told (delightfully so; I can’t stress this enough—you need to get that album too). I do feel this is a very consistent EP thematically—from its focus on love to abundant imagery of nature and weather to near-constant use of unison singing. And of course, that trademark bright, upbeat point of view that seems to ward off shadows and soften cynicism. We’re in dark times for sure as a nation and a species—a ray of sunshine like this record is very welcome.
Carol Roth. Photo credit: Dan Lee.
Carol Roth is a full-time marketing copywriter and the main music journalist and social media publicist for Adventures in Americana. In addition to studying the guitar and songwriting, Carol’s additional creative side hustle is writing self-proclaimed “trashy” novels under the pseudonym @taberkeley!
