By: Andrea Myers
The Minnesota music scene is like an onion. The more I learn about history of the scene, the more there is to learn; and the layers just keep peeling away. So I was glad to get an up-close look at one of the men behind early-nineties post-post-punk rock band The Leatherwoods (the other being Tim O'Reagan, who I also had the pleasure of chatting with recently about his upcoming solo album, to be released June 27), as his show was another lesson in my intricate and time consuming education about local music and its roots.
For those, like me, who are on the younger end of the listening audience age spectrum and are fairly clueless about most local music developments that occurred more than five to ten years ago, here's your lesson of the day. The Leatherwoods were formed in 1991 when drinking buddies Todd Newman and O'Reagan decided to ditch the Topeka bar scene, take themselves seriously as musicians, and migrate to Minneapolis. Attracted to the underground post-punk scene that was brewing in the city, Newman advised his bandmate that Minnesota was the place to be, and they fit in fairly quickly. The duo released one album, Topeka Oratorio, which is now out of print but still regarded as an important record of the time by many older music scenesters in the area.
Newman's gig at the Hexagon was his first show in years (according to Hex booking agent Chris Dorn, it may have been as many as seven years since Newman's last Minneapolis show). Newman was joined by Dorn on bass and Craig Grossman on drums (both of the Beatifics), which allowed them to create a lovely Beatifics-meets-Replacements-meets-glorious, shiny pop sound that lit up the whole room as if the trio had pulled the sun indoors and told it to hover above the little stage. As the band began to play, David de Young leaned over and remarked that they "sound like Minneapolis," and I don't think I could have agreed more. There is an attitude (friendly and inclusive) and vague genre of sound (blissed out, pretty rock) that seems to run like a current through all of the better known bands of the last 20 years, and it seems to tie the whole local scene together like the familiarity of a group of old friends. An older crowd of musicheads basked in the warmth of the band's sound, some grinning in appreciation of the music and others starry-eyed at the sight of the somewhat iconic local musician. Newman appeared comfortable on stage and almost giddy to be playing again, and his high voice blew through the room like a soft summer breeze.
Newman played a relatively quick set of eight songs, which I believe were all originals (I am kicking myself for not grabbing a set list) that sounded strangely familiar, though I had never heard any of them before. Newman's songs were so infectious and charming that the general warm feeling of the set has been following me for days. On the way out of the Hex, I got a chance to introduce myself to Todd, and I was relieved when he told me that he had a blast playing live again and hoped to play more shows very soon.
Photo by David de Young.
Location Info:
Hexagon Bar
Artist Info: Todd Newman
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