There is no way this guy’s name is really Trapper Schoepp. Then again, it may be too ridiculous to be invented. If his mother really called him that, the fresh-faced lad was always destined to start a teeny-boppin’ indie-folk band (sound: Mumford goes Bright Eyes, look: One Direction goes Mumford), write songs about his grandfather surviving harsh South Dakota winters, open for The Wallflowers at the Newport and come back to headline Rumba a few weeks later, which is exactly the sequence that concludes this Sunday when The Shades stop by that North Campus hole in the wall for an early evening gig.
His songs, though? Right catchy.