The Chardonnay Boys are coming at you crisp and high in tannins. Best served in stemless glasses with bagel chips and chevre on the side (though powdered guac will do), these micro-dosing, mimosa-pouring, Parliament-smoking rock-n-rollers were grooming grooves with one another back when Pluto was a planet and Polaroids had a purpose.

They’re big boys now, in cut-off cords and tortoise-shell shades who found part of their sound at a Florida flea market on an 8-track tape. They prefer their fish from a can, their water filtered, and they know a thing or two about succulents. They’re reverb-vintage soundscapers with psychedelic pop and roots blues in their veins, but have a strong penchant for yacht rock. So raise your glass and shake your ass, to the farm-raised, suburban born, hand-rolled, and best served cold, Chardonnay Boys!

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