Ignored             Obscured              Restored

If there’s a quintessential Carole King moment, it might be “Brother Brother.” The track, from her 1971 album Music — an album often overshadowed by the iconic Tapestry — isn’t just a song; it’s an unraveling of personal tragedy, a chilling elegy that gives voice to the unspoken anguish of familial estrangement and mental health despair.  It goes way beyond being a simple response to Marvin Gaye’s “What’s Going On” released earlier the same year, as it has often been interpreted.

The song was written about her younger brother Richard who was born deaf and suffered from severe mental infirmity.  So severe was his disability, that his parents felt incapable of raising him on their own and had him institutionalized.  She wrote “Brother, Brother” to convey the feelings she recalled from visits to him at the mental hospital.

It’s hard not to hear “Brother Brother” as a lament, a plaintive cry that echoes through the silence of institutional walls.  The song’s somber chord progression serves as the perfect vehicle for King’s exploration of loss. Yet, the real heartbreak lies in its lyrical content. King’s verse —

You have always been so good to me
And though you didn’t always talk to me
There wasn’t much my lovin’ eyes could not see
And I don’t believe you need all your misery

— isn’t just a lyric; it’s a window into a soul grappling with the constraints imposed by society on mental health and family. The distance, physical and emotional, reflects an era’s inadequate understanding of mental illness, but also the isolation that personal tragedy can bring.

In the end, King’s “Brother Brother” is more than a song; it’s a profound exploration of familial love and institutional despair, a piece of music that bridges personal suffering and public awareness. Through its melancholy melodies and poignant lyrics, it captures the essence of a moment when the personal was beginning to be recognized as inherently political. And in this recognition, it speaks to us still, echoing through the decades with a voice that remains as relevant as ever.

Enjoy… until next week.