Drew was born with a guitar in his hands — which made kindergarten complicated, but totally worth it. Known for solos that melt faces and mysteriously summon stray cats, Drew claims to have learned guitar by watching VHS tapes in reverse and communicating directly with the ghost of Jimi Hendrix (on weekends only).

When he's not bending strings into submission, you’ll find Drew restoring air guitars from the '80s, auditioning for shampoo commercials he wasn’t invited to, or offering unsolicited relationship advice to confused couples at gas stations.

A certified super-cutie with hair that defies gravity and fingers faster than your Wi-Fi, Drew is the Riff Whisperer — fluent in squeals, slides, and spontaneous standing ovations.

Mike doesn’t just play bass — he communicates in low frequencies only dolphins and emotionally unstable houseplants can truly understand. Equal parts mystery and groove, Mike is known for holding down the bottom end while asking deep questions like, “Do pickles have souls?” and “What if our amps are actually listening to us?”

In his free time, Mike enjoys competitive yo-yoing, teaching interpretive dance to lizards, and inventing new sandwich combinations no one asked for but everyone secretly loves. He also has a well-documented love affair with craft beer, once describing a porter as “dark, moody, and surprisingly supportive.”

They call him the Vibe Architect — because without him, the whole thing would collapse into a pile of power chords and poor decisions.

Joe didn’t choose the drum life — the drum life showed up at his door, borrowed his lawn chair, and never gave it back. When he's not shaking the foundations of the stage, you can find Joe rebuilding vintage toasters, collecting rare kazoo solos on vinyl, or serving as an unofficial referee for neighborhood squirrel wrestling matches.

He's known for fueled-by-caffeine solos, perfectly timed snare face, and the uncanny ability to find the only squeaky floorboard in any venue. His Fitbit once exploded trying to count his steps during a drum fill.

They call him the Lord of the Sticks — mostly because he keeps losing them mid-show and magically pulling new ones from somewhere mysterious (we don’t ask).