David Roger Grossmann - bass, vocals
David Roger Grossmann (aka Rawdge) drives the bus, (plays upright bass). This cooker hails from Virginia, and now resides with his wife and cat in Long Island City. He is said to have one of the loudest "indoor voices" in the City. Rawdge is best known for his impeccable sense of timing when it comes to expelling methane gas. You gotta be there to really appreciate it.

Christian Andersen - guitar, vocals
Having recently accepted what will soon be defeat in his decade-long battle against addiction, Christian has (albeit not without reservation) settled into a life equal parts loveless and pedestrian. A software coder (better-than-average) by trade and guitar player (average) by night, he takes from music as much solace as he can before (surely) the staggering weight of so much day to day ritual crushes him into everlasting solitude. There is no name for your crying. There is no name for your crying.

Jacob Tilove - mandolin, vocals
Jacob Tilove is commonly referred to as the Mike Tyson of the mandolin--and not just because he’ll make your ears bleed. He also speaks with an effeminate lisp and has beaten the crap out of Robin Givens. An author by day and Catskillian by weekend, his nights are devoted to the bottle and the band. He currently waits by the phone in Hell's Kitchen.

Jon Mark Fletcher - banjo, vocals
A Son of a Son of a Son of The Confederacy, and the son of a preacher man, Jon Mark, or "Fletch" is a Florida native. Fletch is always grateful he is not wearing an ankle bracelet or in a shed being force fed biscuits while being read the angry parts of the Bible. He learned banjo at the age of 14, which coincidentally is his current inner emotional age. He is a fine arts painter and has run political campaigns and has made a film or two way back when. He also waits by his phone in Long Island City and wonders if life is but an empty dream. He sometimes freaks himself out by staring endlessly at a non-stations 'snow' on TV. HIs favorite hobby is reading church signs in the deep south.

Gabe Jordan - fiddle, vocals
Gabe grew up on goat's milk and potatoes in the woods of Idaho and the mountains of Montana. He started contest fiddling at the age of 8 and still can't understand why anyone plays in the key of B. Currently living in Manhattan, the Pac Northwest seems to have rubbed off on him - he never jaywalks (respect the orange hand!) or carries an umbrella. Gabe spends his spare time biking the bum trails on the North end of Central Park or drinking dark rum while sailing in the Sound.