They sporadically perform. They wear garbage sacks over their bodies like homeless people ponchos. Then they get fancy sometimes and duct tape the letter “L” on the front. At one point, I think, because they didn’t ever want to be considered a “real” band because it’d get too “serious” and that’d be a drag, there was a no releases code enforced. Luckily, that wasn’t the case. The Leeches play dented keyboard surf music. Imagine Vincent Price’s illegitimate sons on surfboards doing a cameo for a missing episode of “The Munsters Beach Blanket Bingo.” It’s ookey and spooky, campy instrumental fun. They also happen to be fantastic and spazzy live.