Brooklyn Run Biography

The triple-cam chemistry shared by bassist Matt Gillette (19), his brother and guitarist, Christian Gillette (22), and drummer Chris McCurdy (21) should be declared a dangerous substance. They combine intense, complex hard rock with undeniable melody—the likes of which is difficult to categorize or draw comparisons to—and push both equally to the fore; they've ignored the prerecorded tracks and dancer battalions and instead connect with their audience through sweaty, passionate, uplifting live shows; they reach deep within their collective soul and extract poetry that resonates with a wide variety of hearers on multiple levels. And best of all, they haven't bought into the prevailing myth that rock 'n' roll is dead.

Matt, the main lyricist and singer, is blessed with an ancient, bottomless soul, one with room enough to nurture oceans of emotion—as well as two distinct personalities. Onstage, Matt (like his brother Christian) moves like an overloaded live wire. Offstage, though, he powers down to a crawl, adorns his psyche with an enigmatic shell, and is highly reluctant to discuss his lyrics—and definitely not the stories that inspired them.

"My lyrics reflect whatever I'm going through at that time," Matt says in quiet, carefully measured phrases. "A lot of them deal with loss, with soul searching. It's not the prettier stuff, but it's real—and that's why I can't tie things up with a neat, little bow at the end. There's too much distress for that… too much of me not knowing where to go or what to do or what to think."

Christian shares Matt's artistic tendencies, counting Matisse and other impressionists as major inspirations (as well as William Shakespeare and Robert Frost). Musically, he's off the chart. A classically trained guitarist and fan of Romantic-period orchestral pieces, Christian habitually cranks up his practice amp and effortlessly forms a blurry progression of impossible, indecipherable barre chords, his right hand often stretching across five frets into jazz-fusion concoctions—all intricate, delicate, precise, and potent.

Chris McCurdy is the third and final link in Brooklyn Run's perfect circle, matching the Gillette's razor-sharp musicianship with some impressive percussion chops of his own. Most often you'll find McCurdy tightly wound behind the drum kit, gritting his teeth in a sneer, and unleashing angry slaps on the snare.

As it turns out, it was in McCurdy's way-too-crowded garage that Brooklyn Run first got together in the spring of 2000, shuffling off years and years of memories filled with Pearl Jam cover band gigs and a last gasp at punk rock fame. Instead they situated themselves in a triangle—McCurdy's drums wedged deep into the sides of cardboard boxes—and Brooklyn Run was born. It was in this humble space that Matt, Christian, and Chris invented a brand-new, aggressive-but-pretty sound, fueled by their individual desires to be true to their musical selves, as well as a mutual mission to reach as many listeners as possible.

Little did the guys in Brooklyn Run know that their future Record label, LMC Records, was thinking along the same trailblazing lines.

"I listened to them play in that garage, and their sound was like nothing else I've ever heard," Lee Chestnut, president of LMC recalls. "They were boiling over in intensity. There was so much musical expression in that place. And I was really impressed with how hard they were working on their sound, on writing songs. They were accomplishing incredible things. I realized these guys were serious."

"We had no idea Lee was going to say that," Christian recalls with an incredulous chuckle. "Our jaws just dropped. I mean, one day we're in the garage, the next day we're in a recording studio making a demo and talking about a full-length album."

"We want to take everything as far as it can go," Christian says with certain resolve. "We've been ready for a long time."

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