ABOUT

Ladies, gentlemen, and extraterrestrial rock enthusiasts — meet Chris McClean, the only human known to shred a guitar solo so fierce it could potentially power an interstellar cruiser. By day, Chris harnesses the raw power of nuclear energy at Ball, working on turning spaceships into cosmic hot rods. But by night, he trades equations for amplification, channeling his genius into the noble art of refurbishing amps back to their glory days, one capacitor at a time.

Flashback to the grunge-soaked Seattle of the '90s, and you would have witnessed Chris tearing up the scene with throbbing metal riffs so heavy, they threatened to send the Space Needle into orbit. His weapon of choice? A Stratocaster with a bite sharper than a vampire with braces. While some lead guitarists rely on a blizzard of notes, Chris prefers to let each one resonate like a supernova's kiss — unless he's attempting to decode the enigmatic fretwork of John Mayer. It's true, he loathes the neck on Mayer's signature six-string, but emulating those smooth bluesy runs is Chris' secret guilty pleasure, nestled right next to his paradoxical adoration for the toe-tapping, jam-tastic tunes of Dave Matthews.

So buckle up, dear fans, and prepare for liftoff with a lead guitarist who can riff about both dark matter and dark metal with equal finesse. Don't let the aerospace jargon fool you though; when Chris lets it rip, the only thing he's engineering is pure, unadulterated rock. 🚀🎸

Introducing Chris Vargo: the strumming professor of CU Boulder by day and the soulful voice of an indie duo by night. In the hallowed halls of academia, he teaches aspiring ad execs the finesse of a strong pitch—both in print and in pentatonic scales.

His brush with fame came in the form of a behind-the-scenes gig at Columbia Records, orbiting the star power of none other than John Mayer. Though Chris had zero input on the design of Mayer's famed guitar neck, a bit of that stardust might have stuck. After college, Chris began gigging with John Hayes from The Voice and various rock ensembles across the south east. 

After settling in Boulder, Chris remembers every stage, from the electrifying to the borderline embarrassing, with a fond, self-deprecating chuckle. These experiences, for better or worse, have been his rock 'n' roll boot camp.

Chris is a musical dreamer with a vision: to turn his duo into a George Harrison tribute act. But the cruel twist of band democracy—where a no vote from his fellow Chris squashes hopes of a Harrison-only repertoire—leads to a back catalog blending rather than just “Something.”

Offstage, there's a hint of longing as Chris channels his inner Mayer in the soft glow of late-night jam sessions. He's not after the fame; he just wouldn't mind if, for one fleeting moment, his “Gravity” was as gravitating as the heartthrob's.