"Hard-fought harmonies pouring out of a bunch of rough around the collar men…" — Daytrotter"


Billy Sorrentino (vocals, guitar), Dylan Boelte (vocals, bass), Damon Boelte (vocals, guitar), Blaine O'Brien (vocals, pedal steel, harp), Drew Blood (vocals, piano), Mike O'Rourke (drums.

"Rock 'n' roll is such an ephemeral concept. There are thousands of bands classified under that umbrella. And thousands of bands playing some kind of permutation of "rock." But there are a select few bands that don't need any kind of classification beyond, simply, "rock." Brothers are one of those bands. Though they look like a renegade offshoot of Hell's Angels, Brothers don't aspire to deal meth or pillage your town. (Well, maybe they aspire to pillage your town musically, but they seem like nice guys.) No, they're just here to rock. And rock they do, bringing some of the most heavy, swaggering throwback rock to the table you've ever heard. Take, for example, "Real Long Way to Go," from Brothers Vol. 1. The first words you hear are "Woah oh-oh oh oh," which is always a good indication of rock-readiness. Then comes the brutally distorted guitar, followed shortly by harmonica, and pedal steel. By the time Billy Sorrentino's whiskey-soaked howl cuts through the mix, you should be experiencing visions of motorcyles and women."


"12 New York Bands You Should Listen to Now. #2 BROTHERS: No, they’re not from the South, but the boys of Brothers sure know how to stomp and holler, booze and ride the wheels of country and rock ‘n’ roll. Daytrotter’s Sean Moeller says, “You will love the New York City band Brothers if you like any of the following: cigarettes, or cigars…taverns, dirty ones…dogs, anykind… gun powered and feeling somewhat desperate…hangovers…tattoos that involve tits…the feeling that you’re not gonna lose, even if you can’t win.”


"You will love the New York City band Brothers if you like any of the following, OR all of the following: Cigarettes, or cigars, either way, just something that you light with fire and place into your mouth. Motorcycles, the ones that purr or the ones that rattle teeth. The pats on the back that the devil gives you every so often, when you do something good. Taverns, dirty ones, with a tiny selection, but exactly what you want to drink copious amounts of. Beaches. Decks. Boots with stomping soles and jean jackets without sleeves. Calling girls that you're having sex with mama. Whiskey by the barrel. Dogs, any kind. Gun powder and feeling somewhat desperate. Hard-fought harmonies pouring out of a bunch of rough around the collar men. Mud. A good, endless night without a care or a plan. Hangovers - if only because they mean that you went for it the night before. Bars. Pubs. Nightspots. Wearing the same pair of jeans (or trousers) for a week or two straight because, it's only then, that they feel right. Tattoos that involve tits. Professional wrestling, the way it used to be when George "The Animal" Steele was eating white-foam turnbuckles that were mysteriously turning his tongue green and guys like The American Dream Dusty Rhodes was considered an athlete and the crazy fucking this is, he was an athlete. Loud guitars and punishing drums. The feeling that you've got a posse. The feeling that you're not gonna lose, even if you can't win."


"Brothers are Brooklyn's best kept secret and they will be the latest band to take over your airwaves (with their) totally ripping new album"


"I was taken with the band’s raw, rockin’ sound, their ne’er do well approach, and their matching motorcycle jackets, emblazoned with a three-eyed tiger. Now, considering their full-length release, succinctly titled Volume I (implying more to come), I’m glad to say that my good feelings about that single foreshadowed a really nice full-album effort. The rollicking and rocking is still in full force, but the band delves deeper into the genres that clearly inform their musical make-up.“Desperate Man” is a growled-out country ballad, complete with a twanging guitar, while “Whiskey and Loose Women” takes a rockabilly, boot-stomping approach. Both tracks feature excellent piano licks, richening an already captivating sound. The album closes with a 7+ minute burner, “Devil’s Tail,” which not only boasts a raging guitar solo, organ sounds, and crash of keyboards, but circles back to the album’s carefree opener, with a newfound punch of emotion and heart. The stomps and claps are there, but the wailing statement, “Freedom is on those blacktop lines, so I ride, ride, ride through the night” sounds more like a battle cry than a jolly road anthem. While the band’s foundation seems to lie in other parts of the country — the rock ‘n’ roll of the South, the attitude of the Wild West, the pleasing layer of scuzz and fuzz that can be found all over the album is pure Lower East Side, before it got cleaned up. These are country rocking guys with some punk rock in their souls, or at least their singing voices.Most importantly, these Brothers don’t lose the sense of fun that makes their music so intoxicating. All things considered, this is a band you probably want to see in a sticky-floored, dark dive bar, a glass of whiskey in hand, a mind set on making some good-bad decisions. And should you need more convincing that it feels damn good to be bad, the sexy, slurred, fuzzed-out garage rock tune “Baby” will have you looking for your leather jacket."


"Brothers southern good-nature merely adds to their renegade charm. Brothers don’t want you to smile and nod. They don’t want you to toe tap and posture for the crowd. Leave that to the Kings of Leon. Brothers are live wires. Brothers rumbled in on the bikes and are leaving with the girls. They’re cracking cold buds and shooting whiskey. They’re lurking in the dusty corner shadows of the bar where everyone’s welcomed, if you’ve got the balls to join them. Play your cards right and you might just get a chance to hitch on and catch a ride right through the night."


"Though not all members of Brothers are actually related, the Brooklyn-based band is nonetheless carrying on a rock ‘n’ roll fraternal tradition. Old school rockers who look like Motorhead and sound like The Allman Brothers riding motorcycles, these guys basks in their hard edge sound, stylized with leather, cigarettes, tattoos and fishnet-clad ladies nearby."


"The first thing that’s awesome about Brothers is immediately evident when you see them live — they wear matching leather jackets with a growling tiger emblazoned across the back, reading “BROTHERS NEW YORK CITY.” Appearances aren’t everything, but this band lives up to their badass first impression the moment they start singing. A brand of stomp-heavy, scuzzy, rough and tumble southern rock that there should always be more of, Brothers have no holds barred as they clap and growl their way through their first single, “Real Long Way To Go.” The vocals are none too polished, but isn’t that kind of the point? This is seriously loud, whiskey-soaked, blues-laden rock ‘n’ roll, and I couldn’t be happier about it."