Leons Business

There was a guy named Leon that grew up on a dairy farm in central Minnesota. He was very much in fear of the Lord because it was instilled in him, from grade 1 through 6 at the St. Mary's Help of Christian School in St. Augusta. He would pray himself to sleep at night to keep the devil from claiming his soul if he did not say the usual 25 Our Fathers and likewise Hail Mary's. Though there is nothing wrong with that, that is just the way it was. Earliest recollections are somewhat dim but there was a tooth and an ear incident. There was an attempt at having them both yanked from his body by a Nun. Therefore lies his fear in God.
Music played a big part in his life, it helped him escape feelings of self worth or worthlessness. Grandma Laudenbach taught the boys and girls how to play the piano, that started earlier, and for that, Leon would be forever in her dept. She would keep a record of the progress in a seed corn booklet, little stars for doing well. She was special.
From there came a period of accordion lessons, but after figuring out accordion players don't get the chicks
he went into a spiral of bad behavior and good luck. The good luck helped him survive that period in his life.
He went into little diversion's about specific tune's played on the stereo that shaped his musical growth. It was not the Enekin Families version of On Top Of Spaghetti. More like Angie from Goats Head Soup that caught his ear, anything Stone's worthy would do. Boy Scouts introduced him to a wide range of serious adolescent rock and roll. No it was not the ship shank knot or the Boy Scout motto. It was the Dan Marsh drug store on the corner of 1st and 7th street in downtown St. Cloud. They carried the latest subscription of Creem Magazine, the Holy Grail of rock n roll hero worship. They all looked slightly retarded with their platform boots and glitz, but it looked better then trapping gophers. Leon was hooked, this was it, no more Frankie Yankavich for that guy. Guitar worship was in the cards and fate would have to play a part.
That came in the form of a 1970 Fender Telecaster that past through the hands of a friend, who found it in a pawnshop for 200 dollars. I understand he plays it at ever gig to this day, just like fine wine.
Chance meetings at parish festivals and sidewalk conversations led to early formations of groups that shaped into long lasting musical collaborations. Such as the King Bees (there has to be at least a dozen King Bee Bands operating in the world today). That collimated in a recording in 1991 called the Mississippi King Bees. Great record very deceiving title didn't know any better, I guess.
With some of the same members and a vocalist from Meridian Mississippi (Eric Austin) and guitar player Johnny Shwartz from St. Paul's West Side, Leon formed the Holy Catfish (great name) rocking outfit. They released one self-titled recording that caught a lot of attention. Leon's original attention was to release it as a Blues Opera, but he got bored and said screw it. That band dissolved after a legal dispute over the naming rights with another band called the Holy Catshit. Okay I promised Leon I would not really go into that one.
Part of his creative process came through sheer boredom and frustration through work, on his own account he wrote some 150 compositions standing next to a offset web press that he worked on for many years.
This diversion led to the building of his own recording outfit, Spacely Sparks Studio that he still operates.
Taboo Blue came from the ashes of the Catfish, some players remained and changed during the history of this band, but 4 outstanding recordings came from this group. Taboo Blue (self-titled), Baby in the Bottom, Mood Swings and The Wrath of God and a Plymouth Fury III.