Arts and Culture

Rocker, writer and teacher: Remembering Laurie Lindeen of Zuzu’s Petals

Women crouch on sidewalk
Zuzu's Petals first promotional shot taken in 1991 in Minneapolis. (From left to right) bassist Coleen Elwood, drummer Linda Pitmon and frontwoman Laurie Lindeen.
Photo credit Dan Corrigan, courtesy Ali Lozoff

Minneapolis rocker Laurie Lindeen died suddenly July 1 from a brain aneurysm at the age of 62. She was the founder and frontwoman of the groundbreaking indie rock band Zuzu’s Petals from the ’80s and ’90s.

Lindeen is survived by her son Johnny Westerberg, partner Jim Diem, father Lance Lindeen, brother Chris Lindeen, sisters Hillary Lindeen Benson and Megan Nanski and cousin Brittany Smith. And, of course, her bandmates, Coleen Elwood and Linda Pitmon.

Lindeen had been living and teaching in Martha’s Vineyard when she died. Elwood says a celebration of life for Lindeen is still being planned. 

Originally from Madison, Wis., Lindeen moved to Minneapolis in the late ’80s, determined to start a band with — as Elwood and Pitmon fondly remember — very limited musical experience.

As Lindeen wrote in her memoir, “I’m not a victim of anything except unrealistic dreams and believing in musicals.”

Her bandmates and loved ones described Lindeen as a “joyful instigator” who helped lead the female rock movement in the Twin Cities, showing up at local haunts like the 400 Bar, Uptown Bar and the CC Club.

Women pose for album cover
Zuzu's Petals band photo for 1992 "Cinderella's Daydream" track.
Courtesy of Linda Pitmon

Zuzu’s Petals toured locally, nationally and internationally and played in the same circles as Babes in Toyland, Smut, Soul Asylum and the Replacements. Lindeen was married to Replacements frontman Paul Westerberg from 2003 to 2014.

Her circle also wants her remembered for the second and third acts in her life as a talented writer and teacher. Lindeen taught writing and literature at the University of St. Thomas in St. Paul, St. Cloud State University and the Loft Literary Center in Minneapolis. 

Her 2007 memoir “Petal Pusher: A Rock and Roll Cinderella Story” was widely acclaimed. Lindeen had recently acquired the rights to the book and was going to reissue it with a new epilogue, her friends say. And her essays often went viral, like the 2017 New York Times piece about her son Johnny going to college.

Here we have curated a collection of memories from bandmates, collaborators, as well as reminiscences from Lindeen herself, excerpted from “Petal Pusher.”

Responses are edited for length and clarity.

On starting Zuzu’s Petals:

Woman sits on stairs
An author photo taken of Laurie Lindeen in 2024.
Courtesy of Tara Glimmer

I wanted to start an all-women punk rock band. My definition of punk rock is do-it-yourself, who cares if it’s sloppy or unprofessional. My definition of punk has little or nothing to do with politics or shaved heads and everything to do with what’s new and not in the mainstream. It’s about going on stage as you, full of rage, heartbreak and laughs. It’s about making the music you hear in your head and heart.

When I was first into music as a kid, it only came out of California, New York or London. The new movement of mid-1980s make-your-own rules music, the sounds drawn from influences as diverse as Johnny Cash and Johnny Rotten, is coming from places like Athens, Georgia and Minneapolis, Minnesota — places I can relate to.

The people making this music seem to be a lot like my friends and me with their thrift shop wardrobes, messy hair and penchants for nicotine. I want my band to be all women because I want us girls to be in charge, to call all the shots.

— Laurie Lindeen

Somebody coined her a joyful instigator … she could literally get me to do just about anything. Including, like, “Yes, I’ll take my college degree and move to Minneapolis and start a band even though I don’t know how to play the bass.”

(Laurie was) just a badass and a rebel and pioneer ... she just was fierce about the band. She made it all happen, and then she just kept doing that with her life.

— Friend and bassist Coleen Elwood 

(Laurie and Coleen) had moved to Minneapolis and decided to try to form a band when they didn’t really play instruments, which I found fascinating. I met them when I took a job at the Global Café on the West Bank of Minneapolis and they were both working there and getting their little baby band Zuzu’s Petals off the ground at that time.

I met them there and when their drummer quit, who was also working at the café, and eventually I ended up getting asked if I wanted to come and jam in Lori's basement with them. 

The next five years were three really determined, ambitious, pretty hilarious women trying to figure out everything all at once: how to play, how to write songs, how to sing and play at the same time and stand.

And then how to book your own gigs, and drive a 15-passenger van around the country. We found the right people.

There aren’t really many people that would have gone through what we did to make it happen. Somehow, we all have the same dream, even if we didn’t know it, exactly. When we started, we worked really hard.

We all played an important part in it, but Laurie really was, in many ways, the most determined person I have ever met. And she did captain the ship.

— Friend and drummer Linda Pitmon.

On performing:

We did all of our learning onstage, in public, in front of others. We didn’t spend a minute locked in our rooms with Cream records (thank God). The words “serious” and “guitarist” in the same sentence give me hives.

The stage used to be this daunting, intimidating platform where we stood higher than everyone else in the room. Armed with microphones, loud instruments, songs and cool clothes, we covertly worked undercover. The stage was like rock climbing on a cliff without guide ropes.

There is no better, more appropriate place to “act out” than on a stage, and it’s preferable to being prostate with depression, to feeling helpless and self-destructive.

Onstage we can kiss off all of the people who tell us to ”smile” at our demeaning day jobs, to all the “you guys rock for girls” crap. We’re up there reacting to constant marginalization.

— Laurie Lindeen

Women embrace
Zuzu's Petals bandmates (from left to right) Coleen Elwood, Linda Pitmon and Laurie Lindeen in 2007.
Courtesy of John Pierce

If it wasn’t for Laurie — above and beyond the thousands of fun stories and personal ways that we’ve touched each other's lives and families — I would not have gotten to be a part of this incredible scene in Minneapolis.

I am so proud to have been a part of the heyday. I still can't believe that we did what we did in that band as young women with very little musical skill initially. But we did know how to write. But that was punk rock.

— Coleen Elwood 

She’s an incredible songwriter, she was an incredible front woman, she looked like a blonde bombshell but in combat boots and ripped jeans. And was also just so smart and so pragmatic.

They played their guts out. They sweated and danced and laughed and screamed on stage. And I think, especially at that time with other bands like Babes in Toyland, and there were a few other local all-female bands, it was just really important to see presentation; that you could be these sexy, alluring, strong, funny, independent women who made music on their own terms.

And that’s what they did, and people really responded to that.

— Former band manager and APMG director of integrated operations Ali Lozoff

She was diagnosed with MS, and I was diagnosed with severe rheumatoid arthritis, both of us in our early 20s … we were playing through real physical disabilities. I mean, she — one hand would barely work some days. And if she was stressed, it would be worse. So if we were playing a show, she might be left up there having her hand go numb.

The bravery and going up there knowing that her hand might not work, my arm might not work — I just found her extraordinary, what she really went through physically, just to make her dreams come through at that time.

— Linda Pitmon

On second and third acts:

Woman speaks into microphone
In 2017, Laurie Lindeen reads "Ta Ta For Now," the basis for her New York Times essay "Johnny Goes to College," at Morningside After Dark in Edina.
Courtesy of David Biljan

I do believe that if you reach for your most authentic self, and tell an authentic story, it has universal appeal. Laurie was a master at that. She was a master, she was a master teacher. It was a great boon for me to watch her teach for a week every year.

She had lots to do. Basically in the same way that she made her own way and her own niche in rock and roll she made her own way and carved out her own niche in memoir and in teaching.

— Writer Katherine Lanpher, who co-taught an annual memoir workshop with Lindeen on Madeline Island.

She was always encouraging burgeoning artists to speak and write. I think for her process where she dropped out of college and went back later in life, and really found her voice, she really was just an unbelievable teacher.

I’m a teacher as well, so she came and guest taught my class several times, especially with creative writing. And students never left without a sense of feeling emboldened, but also a feeling that, you know, they could too write.

That’s such a gift to be able to encourage by doing and lead by example. As a teacher, she was remarkable because she met you on the level and she was always walking alongside as a teacher and never teaching from above or a stage.

— Jim Mahoney, who co-founded the Morningside After Dark series.

This activity is made possible in part by the Minnesota Legacy Amendment's Arts & Cultural Heritage Fund.