the sleaze on reuniting after 13 years + their dirtbag teen era

February 20 was a predictably cold one in Minneapolis. In the doorway of a nice house about a half mile from Powderhorn Park, I’m being barked at by Jack, the dachshund mix who lives with Mark (guitar). It’s chill, though; Jack is just trying to get some pets. I’m here to talk to the Sleaze, a band that’s gathering this particular weekend to practice for their first show in 13 years—a headlining set at see/saw’s year 2 party (March 28 at Eagles 34). Hanging out with an awesome dog is a bonus perk.

Conor (vocals) invited me in; his hair is way longer than it was when his band was still active. Still, this well-dressed father is instantly recognizable as the young sneering frontman of the Sleaze at a 2013 unofficial SXSW show. At one point during that set, Conor leaned over and some dude poured a full beer down his buttcrack. I’ll never forget that image.

It’s an inviting spot to hang out with a band that hasn’t existed in over a dozen years. There was chili on the stove. Joe (bass) arrived fresh from his job at the hospital; he remembered that 2013 SXSW excursion distinctly. “I got in a fight with some guy,” he said. “He tore my shirt.” Will (drums), added, “I think within an hour of us getting there, you got your entire shirt torn off.”

Will demanded that we all play Street Fighter II on a tiny box television during our interview, but that plan fell apart immediately; the TV was busted and there was nowhere to easily place it in that room, anyway. The walls of Mark’s house are adorned with Will’s original Street Fighter character portraits. They all prefer to play as Ken (except Joe, who is a Ryu guy).

Multiple copies of the Sleaze’s records were splayed out on the dining room table, allowing me to visually track their trajectory from their iconic 2008 debut Smokin’ Fuckin’ Cigs and Other Hit! through to 2013’s Tecktonik Girls 12” on Total Punk. The band effectively ended when Conor moved to Texas; the rest of the band still live in Minneapolis. 

Tony from Bermuda Squares, their friend and contemporary from Minneapolis punk bands like Sinks and Retainers, is responsible for putting this deal together. After a night where I geeked out about their records to Tony, I floated the idea—would they be into a reunion? He set to work twisting arms. “And I said, ‘How much money,’” Mark responded. That’s probably a joke—Mark, Joe, and Will were the first ones to say yes.

“I was the holdout,” Conor said. “You guys can just play instruments, but there’s a character that I play. It’s kind of like I didn’t know if I wanted to go back there, but now that I’ve been playing, it’s been fun and also rewarding. I’m glad that we’re doing this.” There was another hitch: Conor’s voice is literally different than it was back then. “I’m pretty sure my balls dropped,” he told Tony.

The Sleaze started around senior year of high school in Stillwater, Minnesota; they were 18 years old when they started and played tons of shows with x’s on their hands. Will remembered how they’d handle those nights: “We would shotgun beers in the parking lot outside Hexagon.” Mark added: “Now we shotgun beers in the homes that we own.”

Their origin story is extremely teenaged and was already well-documented in their exit interview with Terminal Boredom. Conor remembers Will getting really into Refused and wanting to play drums fast. The first two to start playing together were Will and Mark. “Mark was twee as fuck, which I didn’t know at the time, otherwise I would not have fucked with him at all,” Will said. Will moved his “shitty drum set” into Mark’s parents’ basement. “Mark had the clarity to decide that we needed a singer that didn’t give a fuck, basically, and had the perfect candidate. And then we forced Joe to play bass because he was our other best friend.”

The Sleaze ultimately moved their operation into a tiny room in Conor’s dad’s garage, monolithically dubbed the Room. “It doesn’t exist anymore, unfortunately,” Conor said. “But we kind of just hung out in that room all day every day for years.” 

“We got stoned in there a lot and became blood brothers in there,” Joe said. It wasn’t some limp declaration of “we are now blood brothers”—they literally did the thing where they sliced their hands and shared blood. They had one other blood brother, their friend Jake; he wasn’t a member of the Sleaze, but as soon as he comes up, all four guys begin weaving this wild tapestry of a guy who used to “wheedly-wooo” with his electric guitar blues chops, an “incredible athlete” who ran a mile in under four minutes, and a modern day “trad dad/MAGA dad” with a hobby farm somewhere in Texas.

Time comes for all of us, and now those blood-swapping stoner dirtbag teens are now adults suckin’ on Zyns instead of smokin’ fuckin’ cigs. Tasked with revisiting snotty punk 7” classics like “Crush” b/w “PCP,” they practiced once over Christmas and again the February weekend when we met. “This is the night we get our shit together,” said Mark. “Maybe we’re gonna drop off the bill after this weekend.”

It’s easy to see how these guys have been friends for the majority of their lives. When Will claimed that he and Mark were having the easiest time during practice because they still jam occasionally, Conor chimed in, “Will, you can’t play seven songs in a row right now.” Incredulous, Will responded: “What? Yeah I can!” Conor didn’t let it go: “Couldn’t at Christmas!”

They hypothesized about who’s going to show up for their set, wondering if it’ll just be their parents or if maybe some heads from the late ‘00s might turn up. “I’m excited to see a lot of people I haven’t seen from that arena for a long time,” said Joe. Will added: “I’m gonna be really disappointed if certain weirdos that I don’t really have a connection with individually anymore don’t show up.” 

Early on in planning the see/saw year 2 party, I asked the Sleaze if they planned on playing any shows before March 28 as a warm-up. Specifically, I wanted to know if it would be accurate to call it their first show in 13 years. Conor replied: “It’ll be the first and only show in 13 years 😂” 

Of course, the future is uncertain, and the possibility of future Sleaze stuff doesn’t appear to be fully off the table. “I had a scheme to get a new record out in time for the show, and it was like oh wait, this is going to be a logistical nightmare,” Mark said. “There were two songs that weren’t recorded. It seemed more important to figure out what the fuck we’re doing with the show. I would still like to do something, but who knows what that means.”

Conor drove us to a local dive bar for Will’s girlfriend’s birthday; we listened to Necrot and Blood Incantation on the way. Pull tabs were generously distributed, and of course, none of the dozen that ended up in my hands were winners. I was pulled into a game of doubles pool with Mark, Joe, and Will—I scratched so hard once that the cue flew into one of their longtime friends. I ultimately lost the game, embarrassing myself in front of these dudes whose music I obviously love. On the drive back to Mark’s house, we listened to Lana Del Rey’s “White Feather Hawk Tail Deer Hunter” at Mark’s request. Jack got the zoomies, we gossiped about our mutuals, and parted ways.

The Sleaze will return on March 28. After that? Who fuckin’ knows.

The Sleaze will headline see/saw year 2 on March 28; the lineup also includes Bermuda Squares, Kilynn Lunsford, Miracle Debt, Buio Omega, TY, and W-9. Tickets are available.