It's been a long and eventful journey from Kentucky to the Bournemouth International Centre, but the brothers were looking good on it.
They played an electric set, went backstage for twenty minutes to enjoy a cup of tea, then returned for the acoustic second half. Along with all their familiar hits they went back to their roots for a few bluegrass numbers, and played a recording of the local radio show on which they appeared as children with their Mom and Dad, both country musicians.
kowarth and I weren't quite the youngest in attendance, but we were probably the youngest to know all the words. Even we didn't enjoy ourselves as much as the lady sitting next to me, who recognised each song from the first chord. Everyone there was happy to have their emotions played like a steel guitar.
The Everlies know that what they do is slightly cheesy, but they obviously adore doing it and it's hard not to get caught up in that. After all, love still hurts, is strange, has a price, and it's still sad to see it go bad. (It may even be like a stove, burns you when it's hot, though this line always makes me wonder what drugs the boys have been taking.)
They were happy to mock themselves with a selection of highlights from their weepiest numbers rolled into 'The Everly Brothers Deadly Medley'. However, it was 'Crying in the Rain', played in its entirety, that got to me - it always does.
The other tear-jerking moment of the evening was the announcement that we, the audience, had been so wonderful they wanted to sing this song to each and every one of us.
It was 'Let It Be Me'.
On Monday morning I dug my parents' Everly Brothers LPs out of the cupboard. When I pulled EB84, the reunion album, from its sleeve, out fell a clipping from the Bournemouth Evening Echo reviewing the Everly Brothers gig my parents attended at the BIC, dated November 25th, 1985 - twenty years and two days before the performance I had just enjoyed.