Brian Wheat has some noble goals as a songwriter – to shed light upon the mechanisms that lead to human disconnect and the roots of detachment from our surroundings, while offering new possibilities for the growth of community. Lofty? Perhaps, but certainly within his clear-eyed grasp. With a warm, whispery voice, the color of softly aged photos from your grandmother’s attic, and songs that float with a secular religion of home, forgotten industry, and the architecture of ghostly pasts, Wheat creates music that suspends the listener between modernity and bygone eras. He engages his audience with a gorgeous balance of the immediately tangible and a wonderfully elusive sense of the enduring.

In casual conversation, Wheat is a man who pauses occasionally, carefully pondering each exchanged word before proceeding with a response. Similarly, his songwriting demonstrates fascinating detail that surpasses simple storytelling, delving into patient studies of the emotional context surrounding a moment. He gently tugs on hidden threads of nostalgia with lyrics that seem to originate in the groggy morning duality of aching sorrow and the purest joy.

Wheat’s writing is informed by a healthy world-view and solid perspective – he has a good bit of travel under his belt, he makes a mean falafel, and he’s the type who would take the long way through the side streets to discover new communities, rather than accept the indifferent convenience of the thruway. His balanced personality shines through in his colorful, yet maturely arranged, instrumental work. Wheat seems to understand that the possession of technical skill, alone, is not a virtue – the greatest artists couple talent with keen knowledge of how and when (and when not) to employ it in service of a song. Rather than indulge his ego, he seeks enveloping textures, sewing tasteful lines into the seams of phrases and carefully constructing alternate chord voicings.

On his debut eponymous EP, Wheat deftly handles the guitar, banjo, and harmonica duties. Bassist Peter Williams and drummer Mark Longolucco map out the peaks and valleys that lie within Wheat’s gently weathered landscapes, magnifying his rare ability to bring a crowded room to an attentive silence. Together, they create music that is at once earthy, refined, organic, and melodic.

Brian Wheat has shared the stage with everything from pop-punk bands to anti-folk solo performers, but each audience has been receptive to his music and bearded, sweater-clad charms. His moving live performances have garnered him support positions for some of today’s most exciting national and international acoustic performers, including Mark Kozalek (Red House Painters/Sun Kil Moon), Ember Swift (Few'll Ignite), Serpentfly, David Dondero (Team Love), Olde Tyme Relijun (K Records), Rachel Ries (Waterbug), and Robert Blake.