VOCALS / GUITAR

Brendan’s connection to the band begins with his childhood friendship with Jimmi, a bond formed early and carried forward through music. The two played together in a band called Thoughts, which often opened for Polliwog, managed by Troy, with Mike on drums. What started as friendship and shared instinct slowly expanded into a wider circle, rooted in the Tempe music scene and years of overlapping shows and long nights where music came first.

One of Brendan’s early memories with Troy comes from those days, when Troy was putting together a festival and needed a name. Brendan jokingly suggested “All About the Booty Festival.” Troy used it. Somehow, it worked, and it was a great day.

Over the years, the band took the work seriously. There were records made, time spent at Pachyderm Studio, and a near-miss record deal that almost changed everything. Recording there, in rooms tied to albums they’d grown up with, made how close it all was feel unmistakably real. When the deal fell apart, it hurt, but the music never stopped.

Coming back together now feels different. Quieter. Clearer. The self-destruction has burned off, and what’s left is the music, finally able to come through without interference. Brendan doesn’t need to be numb or artificial anymore. He just writes and plays.

A full-time musician, Brendan also performs with Enjoy and plays solo acoustic shows. His songwriting pulls from “a little bit of a lot,” grounded in melody and words with real power, carrying a lived-in reverence that hits you in the core. He’s always chasing that feeling, the one that runs up your spine and makes your head tingle, the reason live music still matters.

Beyond his instrument, Brendan is a songwriter at heart. When he’s not playing music, he’s usually playing music. Known for a bit of impatience in rehearsals and total commitment to the song, he brings a warm, autumn-toned mix of retro and modern to the band — grounded, a little off-center, and always moving forward. He is also quietly attentive to small, unnoticed rituals: working out, eating vegan, and feeding the squirrels when no one’s watching.

LEAD GUITAR

Jimmi came up in Cranford, New Jersey, starting on piano as a kid before moving to guitar and spending most of his life in bands. He’s been part of the Arizona music scene for over 20 years, playing in projects like Shrink, Thoughts, The Why, High Speed Crash, the Brendan Brophy Band, The Fourth Wall, and the Nate Williams Band. Coming back together now felt natural, familiar people, loud guitars, and a reason to play live again.

His playing leans into lead guitar, long solos, big moments, and letting things stretch when the room is with you. Influenced by Joe Walsh, George Harrison, and Dave Navarro, he’s drawn to melody, grit, and tension that builds and releases in real time. Jimmi tends to be happiest right under the lights, usually drenched in sweat. He’s a free spirit at heart, doesn’t love being boxed in, and brings a kind of fearless energy to the band, pushing songs forward, opening things up, and keeping the centre alive.

When people listen, he wants them to feel caught up in it, connected, a little undone, and fully in their bodies. At a show, that usually means movement, laughter, and the sense that something real is happening right now, not perfectly rehearsed or contained.

Earlier on, he recorded at Pachyderm Studio, an experience that still sits high on the list. Growing up not seeing very well, music became a way to express what couldn’t always be seen, a channel for energy, feeling, and release. He’ll also tell you, usually with a grin, that it helped him get a lot of girls.

Outside of the band, Jimmi has written music for films through his long-running collaboration with Brendan as Box Office Boombox. When he’s not playing or writing, he teaches piano, reads horror and sci-fi, and spends time with his wife, kids, and dogs, before heading back under the lights again.

DRUMS

Mike’s musical path has been shaped by long rooms, deep collaborations, and a steady presence in the Tempe music scene. It was there, in the thick of bands, shows, and shared creative orbit, that he connected with Brendan and Jimmi, relationships that would stretch across decades of writing, recording, and building projects together.

Over the years, Mike has played, written, recorded, and helped steer multiple iterations of music with Brendan and Jimmi. They simply know how to work together. The trust is there. The shorthand is there. And now, with Troy in the mix, a player Mike has known and respected for years, the whole thing feels grounded, relaxed, and right. (It doesn’t hurt that Troy wears a cowboy hat exceptionally well.)

Mike’s history includes recording at Pachyderm Studio, a place with serious musical gravity. Nirvana’s In Utero was tracked there. The Gear Daddies recorded there. Grant Hart was a frequent guest during their sessions. The console itself came from Electric Ladyland, the same board that carried Combat Rock by The Clash. A dream room, even if the record deal didn’t survive.

These days, the approach is different. The band is sober. The playing is rooted. The goal isn’t to prove anything, it’s to serve the song, explore the groove, and cherry-pick opportunities that feel good. The sound lives somewhere between Ray LaMontagne and Bon Iver, backed by the Texas Tornadoes, with the grit of Sturgill Simpson, and Blackberry Smoke always close by.

At a show, Mike wants people to feel like they just took a sip of moonshine, warm in the belly, loose in the shoulders, part of something shared. Festivals are where the band really shines. The energy moves both ways. The crowd performs for the band while the band performs for the crowd. When Troy and Jimmi have their eyes closed, Mike knows they’re fully in it.

Beyond his instrument, Mike is a contributing writer, arranger, and unapologetic Type-A detail person. Rehearsals require copious coffee. Time off looks like survival camping, country music festivals, and meditation. And yes, once upon a time, he delivered a club sandwich to Gordon Lightfoot.

BASS

Troy came up in the Tempe music scene in the 90s, back when long nights meant dancing for hours to funky tunes and letting the groove do the talking. Those early days left a mark, not just musically, but in how he shows up: steady, present, and deeply attuned to the feel of a room.

Coming back together in their 50s felt natural. For Troy, it was about good people and good music, the kind that holds history, maturity, and heart without trying too hard. Years of living, listening, and growing have shaped him into a more grounded musician, one who understands both tension and release, on stage and off.

The band’s sound leans rootsy and melodic, drawing inspiration from artists like Lyle Lovett, Chris Isaak, and Brandi Carlile. There’s space in the music, room to breathe, to feel, to be moved. And yes, if you ask Troy which song captures the spirit of the band, he’ll probably say Free Bird (with a laugh).

His favourite gig memory still stands out decades later: a New Year’s Eve beach party in Rocky Point in 2000. With the millennium turning and the future uncertain, the band played like it might be the last night on earth, fully alive, fully committed.

Live, Troy loves a playful, energetic venue where the crowd is engaged and the music can stretch its legs. The moments that always land are when the tension finally breaks open in a solid bridge, that collective exhale where everything clicks.

Beyond his instrument, Troy plays the role of mediator, the middle child energy that keeps things balanced. In rehearsal, he’s relentless in the best way, running songs until they live in his body and he can play them with his eyes closed.

When he’s not making music, you’ll find him outdoors: rock climbing, canyoneering, kayaking, camping, anywhere that feels expansive and real. A fun fact most people wouldn’t guess? Despite his tall presence now, he was a late bloomer, not hitting his growth spurt until 16.