Brother Elsey

There’s something unique in the Brother Elsey DNA. Some ability to see through each other’s eyes, sense a collective need and express it with sharp songcraft, working together to suss out a common truth. Unpretentious yet emotionally astute, it is hard to express verbally, but it boils down to this: You can’t look at your brother and ignore what he’s feeling. Why should we do that to anyone else?

Comprised of siblings Brady (vocals and guitar), Beau (bass), and Jack Stablein (lead guitar), plus honorary kin Dalton Thomas (drums), these sons of Detroit have spent almost their whole lives creating what amounts to a blueprint of musical connection. True connection, the kind that has nothing to do with the descriptors we use to slice and dice ourselves apart.

Freely mixing rock, folk, and country in ways both grounded and atmospheric, rugged and serene, they ignore those same labels for a boldly original sound, filled with lofty soundscapes and soul-piercing blood harmonies. And after building up a career on sheer Midwestern grit, climbing the ranks one self-written song, self-produced album, and self-booked tour at a time, these celestial roots-pop poets are ready to bridge the space between us all. It’s now time for this Nashville-based, River House Artists quartet to reveal their family secrets.

“It feels pretty surreal,” Brady says, describing a national-level arrival years in the making, with new music set to drill deep into the complex (yet surprisingly simple) human condition. “We’ve put in a lot of hard work with our nose right on the grindstone, and we’ve always believed in our abilities as a band.

Named for the Stablein brothers’ great-grandfather, Elsey, the band comes by its philosophy honestly – both musically and personally. Their granddad was a musician, singing lead in a local country band called Southern Exposure and introducing his young proteges to the genre’s classic elements – along with the constant cycle of rehearsal and performance they soon chose over sports. Meanwhile, the boys’ father was a fan of genius-level rock songwriters like Bruce Springsteen, Bob Seger, and John Mellencamp, adding up to a musical foundation we’d now describe as “Americana.”

After playing their first show as pre-teens, the brothers were booking high-profile Michigan gigs and opening for national acts by high school, then recording self-funded and self-produced tunes so they could hit the road, crisscrossing the highways of the Midwest and beyond. They picked up Dalton in college, giving their ambient roots rock a sturdy backbone, and as the years passed, even toured with bands like alt-rock icons The Wallflowers, the War and Treaty, and Allen Stone. But soon, a distinctive worldview matched their unorthodox sound – along with all the hard-earned confidence they’d ever need.

“A lot of kids have their chance to fuck around and have fun and play Metallica covers and stuff, but we always took it so seriously,” explains Brady, the band’s primary songwriter. “We know what it takes to get solid work done. We know the worth of a really solid tour. I think in the age of TikTok, some people can skip these experiences that come with making your own way – and in the end, I think it’s unfortunate for them. We know what it takes to really make things work well.”

After two EPs including You Don’t Know Anything, the band put that knowledge to the test, moving to Nashville to seek out their next steps – and testing out their belief in broader themes of community. Building a strong network of collaborators, countless songs rose alongside a new touring footprint, and so did the industry's attention. Brother Elsey were included in the city’s iconic Americana Music Festival, and among many other high-profile appearances, are even set to star in the film Dandelion debuting at the 2024 South by Southwest Festival.

Along the way they’ve weathered all the brotherly disagreements one would expect, applying the lessons learned to songs filled with both conviction and compassion. But while they’ve always seemed to operate on some higher plane of musical consciousness, their new material qualifies for breakthrough status.

Working with producer Drew Long, their latest project features the same ethereal garage-folk sound – Midwestern grit seen from 50,000 feet in the air – but gains a new emotional sharpness as the band’s ability catches up with their instincts. Lush, layered vocal stacks. Deep, slow-burning grooves and shimmering guitars. Otherworldly yet down-to-earth sonics paired with the most universal, big-picture themes in the band’s history, letting each song “breathe” on its own.

With no set production schedule, more than a dozen new songs were recorded at East Nashville’s Ivy Hall – a unique, in-residence style studio allowing bands to record whenever and wherever they feel inspired – and the result was a perfect creative storm.

“It’s a culmination of all the time we’ve spent together,” Brady says. “These songs are the most ‘us’ that we’ve ever made … A lot have to do with the human experience in a really deep way, and I think people will connect to them deeper as a result. We’ve been able to branch out and break out of our shell a little bit – as musicians and creators – and it’s definitely what we’ve wanted to say our whole career. We’ve finally captured it all in a perfect way.”

Mixing a comforting acoustic guitar with Brady’s pensive, weathered vocal and cinematic swells of emotion, the first single “Passing Through” is the gateway. Co-written by the singer with Tristan Bushman, the track balances on a knife’s edge of wanderlust and loneliness, capturing not just a traveling musician’s plight, but the conflicted essence within each of us.

“I make my living leaving things behind,” the song laments. “… Don’t hold your breath, I’m only passing through.”

 “It looks fun from a distance, the life of a traveling musician,” Brady cautions. “But from our experience, there is a certain type of melancholy that comes with having to leave all the time. … and in a way, everyone is just passing through.”

Others like “Red Tape” ramp up the (nervous) energy to capture the all-consuming nature of anxiety, an atmospheric arena rocker penned by Brady and Jack with Madi Diaz. The dreamy “Babylon” pairs thoughtful, patient observations on the modern world with a warm wall of sound, and while energy and imagination both boil over elsewhere, “Other Side of the End” brings the band back to reality.

Leaning into the folk helix of their unique DNA, it’s a tender acoustic tribute to the brothers’ grandfather, all about accepting fate and keeping hope alive. It’s a promise to stay connected – even beyond the physical realm – and it’s part of what makes Brother Elsey who they are. Now, as they reach out to new audiences, they’re passing that value on, hoping to extend the family one fan at a time.

“I want people to feel like we’re a soft place to land,” Brady says. “A place they can go when they want to scream out the window, want to feel joy or just need to cry. I just want these songs to be a comfort.”