Milwaukee Record is saddened to learn that a cherished member of the city’s ’90s music scene, Mike Chubbuck, has passed away. Chubbuck was the lead singer and guitarist for several Milwaukee bands, including hardcore group Silent Scream and fantastic alt-rock band Loomis. Chubbuck passed away on January 6, 2026. He was 53.

Loomis (previously known as Sandbox) was a popular draw in the Milwaukee area, playing shows with the likes of The Promise Ring, Alligator Gun, Compound Red, and more. Loomis released its debut album, You’re No Tiger, Meow, Meow, Meow, on Grass Records in 1996. Sadly, Loomis disbanded the following year (Grass dropped the group after rebranding as Wind-up Record and signing acts like Creed and Evanescence), but reunited for a one-off show in 2006. That show, featuring similar reunion sets from Alligator Gun and Compound Red, led to the release of a final Loomis record, Tender Meats And Moments.

Below, former bandmates Dave Kawczynski, Eric Marshall, and Chris Rosenau share their memories of Chubbuck—before, during, and after Loomis’ run. Milwaukee Record seconds Kawczynski’s wish: Safe travels through the universe, Mike.

Dave Kawczynski

I’ve known Mike for 38 years. I made music with him for 10 of those.

I first met Mike back in high school when he was a freshman. I’d just left the band I was in, Self Denial, and the drummer from that band joined me. We were on the lookout for new members for the band. He mentioned he knew these two kids from school (Pius XI, where we all went—I’d graduated by then) who were into hardcore punk. I thought, “Why not give it a shot?” We got together, and I was blown away by both their talent, especially Mike’s voice. It turned out Mike was a fantastic songwriter. We named the band Silent Scream (inspired by a lyric in Rush’s song “Hemispheres,” though I didn’t mention that to them). We became quite popular in the local scene and released a demo tape that sold out. Unfortunately, my bass playing skills weren’t up to par, so I got kicked out of the band. Silent Scream went through a few lineup changes before settling on a three-piece. They opened the infamous Social Distortion riot at the Odd Rock. They played that evening, and I was stunned by the music. It was catchy, melodic punk, and it was fantastic.

I lost contact with him after that as he moved with his family to Colorado.

I worked at a local record store in the early ’90s. One day Mike popped in. He was back in Milwaukee. We talked about music. We had always had similar tastes. I told him I was looking to start a band and it had stalled. I had a drummer, Eric Marshall. We talked about influences and he wanted to give it a try. We temporarily roped in Scott Schoenbeck on bass and the band Loomis (Sandbox at the time) was born. We wrote a lot of songs. Made a demo, had songs on compilations, put out 7″ singles. We got a record deal with Grass Records and recorded an album that I am very proud of. A good portion of that success is due to Mike’s talent. He was a great creative partner and a great talent. The band dissolved in 1997 and unfortunately we lost touch.

Fast forward to 2006. I was never one for reunion shows. The topic came up, and I figured Eric would never do it. He agreed, so I set forth on setting up a reunion show with Loomis, Compound Red, and Alligator Gun in December of 2006. It was great fun getting back together. We also recorded some songs we had left over from before the breakup. After this, I lost touch with him again. I unfortunately only saw him once after at a restaurant, and we only spoke for a short time.

Beyond his musical talent, Mike was a great person. He was friends with most everyone and had a dry wit that always kept us laughing. We had some great adventures along the way, and I cherish the time we had together. My heart goes out to his family and friends who lost him far too soon. Safe travels through the universe, Mike.

Eric Marshall

I want to say I first met Mike at John Kucera’s house when Sandbox/Loomis started coming together. I was a big fan of his voice, and intrigued by his playing style. We always had a laugh during practice when he actually decided to play with a pick. Then we ended up living together at the Stowell Asylum, which was an adventure in and of itself.

Outside of the band, he was someone who you were honored to have as a friend. Kind, unpretentious, and always wanting to sit down with a 4-track and write some songs or just noodle around. We lost touch when I moved out of the area, so I don’t know what he was doing later in life, but I’m sure that he touched many more lives with the person he was.

My deepest condolences to all of his friends and family.

Chris Rosenau

I met Mike Chubbuck when Dave Kawczynski asked me to play bass in Loomis (then Sandbox, before we changed the name of the band). That had to have been around 1994-ish. I was friends with Dave, but had never met Mike, the singer and other guitarist, or Eric, the drummer. I was playing guitar in a couple of bands at that time in Milwaukee and the idea of playing bass with new people sounded super fun. It was. Everyone hit it off right away during those first few rehearsals, and we all became fast friends.

I loved Mike’s unusual approach to the guitar; never using a pick, but not finger-picking in the traditional sense either. He’d basically come up with his own style that I had never seen before nor have I seen since, kind of using the fingernails on the first two or three fingers of his right hand as a pick, picking strings and strumming as commonly done when playing with a pick. His voice was also very unusual, in a great way. Raspy, but supremely catchy. There are lyrics that one can pick out to be sure, but the actual lyrics are more of a vehicle for the melody; melody was always Mike’s primary focus before lyrics. I always loved this approach, enabling listeners to kind of choose their own adventure filling in the space in between Mike’s lyrical anchors.

Mike and I ultimately ended up pretty much doing everything together after that for a couple of years, along with my then-girlfriend, now wife, and other pals from that crew of contemporary Milwaukee bands playing at the Odd Rock, Unicorn, Globe, etc. (Alligator Gun, Compound Red). Mike and I would work on writing Loomis songs of course, but I was still in college at the time and my roommates and I would record all kinds of songs on my Tascam cassette 4-track—serious, ridiculous, and everything in-between. Mike melded perfectly to this pastime with his great musical sensibility, but also with his great sense of humor. We would write and record acoustic versions of Loomis songs, acoustic versions of covers (notably the Parasites cover of The Queers cover of “If I Bought A Dozen Roses”), and just really funny goof-off songs to amuse ourselves and our friends.

Some of my favorite memories of Mike are from a road trip to Boulder, Colorado we took together to visit his folks and brother who lived out there at the time. We brought my 4-track, a guitar, and a microphone and wrote and recorded songs the whole way there and back. We listened to Nebraska by Bruce Springsteen while driving through the state of Nebraska. I never liked Bruce Springsteen before Mike and that trip, because I had not ever heard Nebraska. Mike is the one who sat me down and made me listen to that record, and I still adore it to this day. He also loved The Lemonheads…but sorry Mike, we’re still going to have to agree to disagree on that one, pal. <3

Everyone loved Mike. He was always so unassuming and easy-going. So friendly, with such dry humor. I always loved that. And Mike was always down to clown for whatever. I spent every summer back from school with Mike and those guys at their house on Stowell Avenue in Milwaukee (the “Stowell Asylum”), and he’d come to Madison all the time and hang out when I was back at school.

Road trips to Colorado listening to Nebraska, Christmas eves at Hallidays on the East Side, endless hangs at the Stowell Asylum, writing songs on my 4-track, and rehearsals and van tours with Loomis and shows and shows and shows. Very, very good times with Mike.

Mike and I lost touch over the years after Loomis disbanded, as I suppose friends sometimes sadly do. I actually work pretty close to one of the apartments Mike lived in after the Stowell house, and I frequently find myself across from his place when walking. I always think of Mike and those times when I walk by his old place and smile, and I always remember Mike fondly.