Last updated: 20 hours ago
Some bands have a roadmap. Almost No One Had Fences had a parking lot and a notebook full of random thoughts.
Kurt and Sean have been jamming together since high school, trading guitar riffs and song ideas, even though their tastes didn’t exactly match — Kurt into pop punk, Sean chasing classic rock solos. Somehow it just worked, probably because they never tried too hard to make it make sense.
One night, on the way to John Corey's, Sean pulled out a battered notebook and read a page of stream-of-consciousness writing. Kurt heard it and said, “That’s a song.” From there, they stumbled into their writing process: raw lyrics, rough demos, and two friends trusting the music to figure itself out.
Almost No One Had Fences isn’t polished, isn’t planned — and that’s the whole point. The songs feel like memories you can’t quite place, emotions you forgot you were carrying, and all the messy parts that make music feel human.
Kurt and Sean have been jamming together since high school, trading guitar riffs and song ideas, even though their tastes didn’t exactly match — Kurt into pop punk, Sean chasing classic rock solos. Somehow it just worked, probably because they never tried too hard to make it make sense.
One night, on the way to John Corey's, Sean pulled out a battered notebook and read a page of stream-of-consciousness writing. Kurt heard it and said, “That’s a song.” From there, they stumbled into their writing process: raw lyrics, rough demos, and two friends trusting the music to figure itself out.
Almost No One Had Fences isn’t polished, isn’t planned — and that’s the whole point. The songs feel like memories you can’t quite place, emotions you forgot you were carrying, and all the messy parts that make music feel human.