I used to think I knew where it was at in music. Fifteen years ago watching my friends' bands in empty bars, I knew it was the place to be. Of course, back then, the rest of the world didn't care! They Knew Nothing! A few years later, the world started to care about some of the same bands I did, which was a bit disconcerting seeing as how They Knew Nothing! A few years later still, the world has proven itself to know less than nothing and I don't have a clue anymore either. It's come full circle: I think there's lots of great bands in Seattle right now, but nobody's going out to see them. Case in point: I'm standing in a shitty bar enjoying the wondrous sounds of Leatherboy with a small number of other clueless types.

"You like Leatherboy?," I ask the hipsters.

"Who?" said one.

"You calling me queer?" said two.

"Yeah! They're great! Fred's soo cute!" said three.

Not bad, but so it goes for another great, underappreciated band.

Leatherboy are the dream of one Fred Vaurnet, a skinny guy with a guitar. As if the world needs another. Starting out as a lonely-guy-with-a 4-track in Hawaii in '94, he landed back in Bellingham, WA, the town he's called home off-and-on during his short life, finding other humans with which to play. A "formative" Leatherboy 7-inch and a move to Seattle later, Vaurnet lucked into Randy Payne--a hard-hitting drummer who knows when to lay back (a rare quality in a drummer). It must have seemed like an odd coupling, since Mr. Payne also fills drummer duties for the decidedly more aggro Bali Girls. As Payne says, "I thought pop songs sucked until I heard Fred's songs." Whereas Vaurnet simply states: "Quite frankly, I was afraid of Randy. Still am." Nevertheless, Payne has added a more rhythmically aggressive signature to Vaurnet's songs, forcing Vaurnet to better enunciate his words and melodies so they could be heard atop the clamoring din.

In 1997, Vaurnet and Payne started playing the odd(!) show as a two-piece, finding a small loyal crowd of friends more than willing to listen. I saw Leatherboy a few times during this era at parties, or at Jules Mays or Uncle Rockys, and noticed that people were actually shaking it during their sets. And the girls outnumbered the dudes! I wasn't the only one who observed this. Steel Wool guitarist/keyboardist/ vocalist/girl chaser John Wright was also enamored by the band and started campaigning the Leatherboys to let him play keyboards on a few songs. Because he was a lot taller than Vaurnet and Payne, they let him join. Payne: "He kind of scared me." Wright: "But I really did like the music, too!" Soon Mr. Wright was all over their songs, splitting his chores between the keyboards and bass. And Leatherboy were on their way to the future.

As a trio, the band played shows with heightened regularity and also started laying the foundation for a full-length recording. Having Wright in the fold enabled Leatherboy to stretch out musically, allowing for some fine interplay to take root among the three of them. It has also relieved some pressure from Vaurnet, and his vocals have grown in confidence as a result, eliciting more subtleties as well as a very big shriek on occasion.

Earlier this year, Leatherboy released their first album, Warm Beer and Cold Sex, on their Junior Varsity label. At 17 songs and 34 minutes, it holds everything you need to know about Leatherboy. They come out blazing with "Detroit": "You know I'm headed for a certain disaster," says Vaurnet, and off they go. Vaurnet's guitar leads the way on most songs, often providing some instantly classic riffs. Too many times I've caught myself repeating them to myself for long periods of time (which I hope is just the curse of guitar players; I'd be sad to learn the whole world wanders around going "doot doot doo doo doot doo"), and Vaurnet's are up there with "Satisfaction" or "Roadrunner" on my inner soundtrack. Favorites such as "Bad Dance Medicine," "Babysitter" and the title track are in fine form on the CD, calling to mind bands like Devo, Wire and Gang of Four with their hard, angular guitar figures and jolting rhythms. And when Leatherboy take it down a notch or two, like on the perfect "From Sounds of Planes" or "Middle East," there's some modern post-Sonic Youth action going on. And since it's now 1999, I have to remind the old guy in me that it's OK to have influences after 1982.

Next up for Leatherboy is a split 7-inch with the Kent 3 for Multiball magazine in September, and some kind of party to commemorate it. "The Kent 3 are the greatest band in Seattle right now, and we're honored to be associated with them," states Vaurnet. "And you, Steve, should be commended for putting out their amazing records."

"Thank you," I reply. "They are also starting work on a new record, one that will hopefully come out on a real label, so people outside Seattle will have a chance to hear it."

"Why don't you put it out, Steve?," wonders Payne.

"I'm broke, Randy. Besides, I don't have a clue."

Come, Seattle, and join us as we dance to the Leatherboy!