Keith Richards said that the best drummers are the engine of the band. And you don’t go anywhere without the engine! So we’d like to introduce our souped up HEMI, Garrett English. Garrett not only is GOOD GODFREY!’s primary means of rhythm combustion— he also somehow manages to excel as our chief sound engineer, producer, technical director, general problem solver and joke cracker. 

Singing both lead and harmonies while strumming rock solid rhythm, not to mention a background in risk management keeping us all from going off the rails — EVERY band needs a Greg Autuori. They sadly don’t grow on trees, though! We know, because we checked @gilbertieswestport. Greg is one of a kind!

You probably don’t remember Jesse jamming with his high school band “RUSH HOUR”, but that’s roughly how long he’s been singing and strumming. A Capricorn side sleeper who prefers savory over sweet, when not rockin’ and rollin’ with GOOD GODFREY! you can usually find him slinging homes in New York and Connecticut.

Every jam band needs a dependable bass player who musically bridges the rhythm section while creating bedrock grooves, and lucky for GOOD GODFREY! we have Tom Roughan. Tom and his wife Christina (and by sonic extension, their neighbors) are also gracious enough to host our practices on their property in Godfrey’s Tavern (c. 1800). Simply put, without Tom, there is no GOOD GODFREY!

Mike “The Reverend” Henry — saxophone deity, groove evangelist, and the only man known to turn a simple soundcheck into a full-blown tent revival. Hailing from the wilds of upstate New York, The Rev has been spreading the gospel of funk, soul, and pure brass salvation to the faithful for decades. Sax in one hand, spirit in the other — praise be to The Reverend.

By day, Jerry’s a corporate consultant — spreadsheets, strategy, and serious business. But by night? He’s a southern rock sorcerer behind the Hammond, conjuring that greasy, glorious sound you didn’t even know your soul was craving. Those Benmont Tench-style piano runs that make you grin mid-chorus? That’s Jerry. Those rolling sixteenths that sneak up and slap? Also Jerry. Buttoned-up by sunrise, downright possessed by sunset.