Gully Boys
What does a DIY rock band in the year 2025 have to do to get some attention? In the case of this go-getter Minneapolis grunge-pop/emo-punk quartet, it came down to a similar playbook to what bands in 1985 did.
They got in the van and toured like crazy, hitting indie festivals and tours with pals Skating Polly and Durry. They played a grab bag variety of gigs at home, too, from the Minnesota Zoo’s Wild Nights series and 56 Brewing’s Nershfest to an underage show at Pilllar Forum and their sold-out year-end party at Varsity Theater. They recruited a small, artist-friendly indie label to put out their first full-length (self-titled) album. They poured their hearts and guts into that record, delivering intense rants and inspired anthems against sexism (“Mother”), media fear-mongering (“Murderapolis”) and general pessimism (“Bad Day”). They stayed very active in their community, too, stumping hard for the Twin Cities United Performers (TCUP, to improve pay and treatment at live gigs), a left-of-the-dial mayoral candidate and various reproductive and LGBTQ+ rights causes.
More a sign-o’-the-times addendum to Gully Boys’ most bustling and impressive year yet: They also used social media to spark a fun dance routine and essentially encourage everyone to lighten up, set to their ultra-catchy, gender-eschewing banger “Big Boobs.” Whether or not all that hard work continues to pay off — their first U.K. tour in January with the Wonder Years hints it will — it still looks like they had more fun this year than most bands.
CHRIS RIEMENSCHNEIDER
Cornbread Harris
The flannel shirts mix with the Vikings jerseys, the Radio K stocking cap and U of M ballcap with the Palmer’s Bar hoodie and North Face vest. It’s the Church of Cornbread, the weekly communion, a holy intersection of blues and football at the Schooner Tavern, Cornbread Harris’ new Sunday haunt in south Minneapolis. The indomitable piano man is right for any occasion. In 2025, he starred at two music events worth celebrating: the closing of the 119-year-old Palmer’s Bar on the West Bank, where he had played since 2006 or so, and the opening of the hot new spot, Animales BBQ, not far from his home in north Minneapolis. Harris also performed around the Twin Cities at Hell’s Kitchen, Icehouse, the Hook & Ladder and Crooners, among other places. With his wheelchair pushed up to his piano and a microphone on a homemade rack around his neck, he delivers a mélange of blues and jazz, from “Take the ‘A’ Train” and “Pennies from Heaven” to originals like “Candy Man” and “Put the World Back Together.” For someone who plays the blues, he emits such joy. “Ha ha ha,” he bursts with a happy growl when he’s in the groove. “That’s right,” he declares when one of his sidemen takes a solo he digs. He gets doubly excited when his famous son, Rock & Roll Hall of Fame producer/songwriter Jimmy Jam, flies in from Los Angeles to join him on the piano. At 98, Harris has impressive timing, a quick sense of humor and an infectious soulfulness. He is a testament to the love of music. He lives to play and plays to live.
JON BREAM
Joseph Haj
A decade into his leadership of the Guthrie Theater, Joseph Haj is hitting all sorts of highwater marks. Last year his epic production of Shakespeare’s history plays became a singular event in American theater. Haj matched that milestone with two shows this year. His production of “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” reimagined Shakespeare’s rom-com not just with honesty and beauty, but with a sweet interactive magic. Cast member Royer Bockus composed and performed a witty valentine for a couple at every performance, extending the effect of the show. And without changing or updating the text, Haj’s production of “Cabaret,” Kander and Ebb’s musical about slow-boil fascism, tapped into the zeitgeist with arresting immediacy. Haj drew stellar performances from a sterling cast and blisteringly clear orchestra, delivering a show of urgency, relevance and frightening power. Haj also closed out the year with “Somewhere,” Matthew Lopez’s companion piece to “West Side Story.”
