If you ask Leroy how he’s doing, he’ll light up a cigarette, look right through you, and tell you he’s getting by. If you stare at him long enough, you start to feel like it’s not a 22 year old rock star on the rise that you’re talking to, but some old crow, a lone wolf that’s been out on his own for years. And you won’t be totally wrong.
If you want to know what Leroy sounds like, he’ll do his best to tell you. He’ll grin about ruining Temptations records by playing them over and over, studying Percy Sledge, teaching himself Jimi Hendrix guitar licks, worshipping Otis Redding. “When I was in high school,” he’ll say, just casually enough, “I had a couple girlfriends. And one of them introduced me to R&B.” But then he’ll shake his head, and he’ll say, “It’s all of that, but it’s different. Can I play you something?”
Signed to Scooter Braun’s SB Projects and The Brain, Leroy is getting ready to put out hot-blooded rock’n'roll like you’ve never heard before. He’s the rough-edged Stevie Wonder; the dark horse James Dean; the younger, leaner, sexier Johnny Cash. He’s all American cool: born and raised in the nation’s dusty heart, working at the two supermarkets in his town of 8,000, landing in high school suspension every day. Leroy is funk, he’s rock, he’s soul—and he’s the catchiest, grittiest, most visceral voice in pop.