The Felice brothers grew up in the Catskills.
But they developed their chops in the subways of Brooklyn.
The Guardian's Amy Fleming had that story awhile back:
...After busking around New York State, the brothers decided to try their luck in the city, where they rented a tiny flat in Brooklyn. They would sleep on the floor and wake up early to play on the subway. "On a good day," says (now departed brother) Simone, "we'd make 200 bucks. We'd put it all in the kitty and it'd go on the bus and gas, and we'd drive around and play more. We sucked so bad, but people still liked us. We didn't care that we sucked. And we still don't. We like to suck a little bit. We're like a disgusting jazz band."...
They now travel around North America in the 'short-bus' held together with spit and duct-tape shown above.
And they are much, much more than a disgusting jazz band, despite the fact that they still suck so bad (in all the best ways possible).
But here's the thing...
This week they will play for eighteen or twenty thousand (mostly) hipster kids in the fancy schmancy Barclay's Center in (the new, new) Brooklyn, none of whom will be coming to see them.
But I bet you at least a thousand of those kids will leave that extravagance palace at the end of the night knowing that they have seen, and maybe even sung along with, the real thing.
Which, if you ask me, is what really matters.