Dead Outlaw's Jeb Brown on a Broadway Career Spanning 50 Years, His First Tony Nomination and Accepting Beyoncé's Immortality

Among the many first-time 2025 Tony nominees, only Jeb Brown can boast of having made his Broadway debut more than 50 years ago. The Dead Outlaw star began his theatrical career at age 10 as one of the “no-neck monsters” in a celebrated 1974 revival of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, starring Elizabeth Ashley. In the decades since, the Yale graduate has appeared in Broadway musicals with short runs (Bring Back Birdie, Ring of Fire), long runs (Beautiful, Grease) and notorious runs (Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark).

Brown takes on multiple assignments in Dead Outlaw, including narrator, train robber and leader of the musical’s onstage band. During a recent chat with Broadway.com, he celebrated his Tony recognition and shared the name of the star whom audiences won’t tolerate being declared “dead” in a show-stopping song.

Did you wake up on May 1 expecting to become a Tony nominee?

I absolutely did not. I was looking for the show to get some attention, so I did tune in, and I now realize that [being nominated is] kind of a dream I didn’t realize I had. It feels very good, and I’m so grateful and excited. I’ve cared deeply about the Tonys my whole life. My family was a theatergoing family, and it was the best awards show on television as far as we were concerned, because it was live performers performing live. I’ve performed on the show before, but to not only be invited but to have a good seat, with my wife by my side, sounds like heaven.

And you’re the only acting nominee with a 50-year history on Broadway.

It takes some of us longer than others. [laughs]

Take us through the first few minutes of the show, which includes your big song “Dead.” In any other musical, “Dead” would be held back as the 11-o’clock number.

That opening sequence starts with a quiet ballad [sung by Tony-nominated lead actor Andrew Durand] and goes right into the barn burner we call “Dead.” We lay out a few foundational story points, then the stage goes black and the crowd erupts. For about three seconds I’m in darkness, able to hear that this group is with us, that we’re teed up and ready to go. Then the lights come up and I say, “Part One,” and we begin.

What’s fun about guiding the audience through the story?

It’s like a campfire tale, in a way—like making 1,000 friends every night. You really do feel as if you’re talking to friends who have never heard this story before. The audience is the missing ingredient—they are my scene partners all night long.

You’re both acting and playing guitar in the onstage band. Do you enjoy dividing your focus?

I love it so much. I was in bands all my life, through my 30s, and then it just became too cumbersome with an acting career and a family. I still make music with friends, but to be able to front a band again, this time on a Broadway stage, is a thrilling throwback. Also, to be a man of 60 doing it is a different thing—not energy-wise, because you bring a kind of wisdom to it, like Neil Young…

…let’s not age you that much!

It’s not quite Neil Young, not quite Willie Nelson, but you know what I mean. There’s a lyric I sing in that opening tune: “I’ve been a pilgrim on the road from coast to coast, I look around and all I seen was hungry ghosts. Dead-end and spinnin’ on the gravel road to hell, I know the drill, cause I’m one of them as well.” This guy is not unlike [title character] Elmer McCurdy, something of a drifter, but he has found a way to survive.

It’s rare to perform alongside one of the show’s composers, as you did with Erik Della Penna in Dead Outlaw's off-Broadway run last spring. David Yazbek is also a musician. What has it been like to collaborate with them?

They’re a couple of smart, exciting brains, great musicians and fun fellows. Erik is a first-timer in the theater world; he plays for Natalie Merchant on the road. There’s an Americana, folk rock, roots foundation to the score, but Yazbek also knows how to explore the corners of the musical theater world with a Bobby Darin number [“Up to the Stars”], a Gilbert and Sullivan ditty [“Our Dear Brother”] and beautiful ballads. [Director] David Cromer reminded us to keep it straightforward, because these guys, as funny as they are, are not twinkly. There’s a dryness about it, so we try to stay out of the way of the words, the ideas and the humor.

During a reprise of “Dead,” you name-check famous folks who are very much alive. Has Zendaya or any of the other faux dead people seen the show?

Zendaya has not been by. [laughs] We mention plenty of people who aren’t dead. We tried Beyoncé early in previews, but the audience didn’t like it. The reminder that Beyoncé won’t always be with us was a bit much for some people.

What are your memories of appearing on Broadway at age 10, when Elizabeth Ashley gave her iconic performance as Maggie in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof?

I have plenty—I was wide awake for all of it. I’ve been taken to the theater since I was six years old. [Brown grew up in suburban Greenwich, Connecticut.] When my mom had tickets and my father was out of town, she would say, “Why don’t you come with me? I’ll give you a box of chocolates and we’ll see what happens.” Watching Lauren Bacall in Applause at age six at the Palace Theatre made a big impression, and the box of chocolates was never cracked. By the time I got to the ANTA Theatre—which became the Virginia and then the August Wilson—at 10, I was well aware of what we were doing and how important it was. And the fact that Tennessee Williams was in the room as a living playwright elevated the whole thing. I learned a lot about what it means to be in a long-running show and to forge relationships backstage.

Jumping forward a decade, can we assume you weren’t singing Dead Outlaw-type folk rock as a member of the a cappella Yale Whiffenpoofs singing group?

We snuck a guitar on stage once or twice, but no. The most showbiz thing we did was a tribute to Mary Martin at the Shubert Theatre. These days, a thing like that would be televised or monetized, but in those days, it was a private affair. Mary Martin was asked who she wanted to perform at the event, and she said, “When I first came to New York in 1931, I was serenaded by the Whiffenpoofs at the 21 Club, and I would love to have them sing.” I was lucky enough to be in the group that year, and we opened the show with a Mary Martin medley on a bill that included Robert Preston, John Raitt, Carol Channing and many more. We met Helen Hayes; Lillian Gish was there; the real Maria von Trapp was there. It was crazy.

What was your career goal when you got out of Yale?

I was always centered in the theater. I spent my 20s in Los Angeles, but at the end of that period, I took stock and said, “I’m not where it feels like home,” so I came back to New York and started what I consider my real career, which is theater.

It must feel great to know you’re in the hot musical of the spring season.

It’s wonderful. My great teacher and friend, Larry Moss, one of my guiding lights, said something years ago when I expressed some dismay in my late 20s. I said, “I feel good about the work, but I don’t see a career happening.” He said, “Don’t worry about that. Keep doing the good work, and someday you’ll be in a hit and you’ll see—all boats rise.” And that’s true. I always give it my best, but when the whole thing works, that’s a different story for everybody. It’s very, very sweet.