Feature: Jared Bond Decodes “Wild Guess”
Punk Head: “Wild Guess” has a stripped-down honesty that feels more exposed than your previous work. What pushed you to peel back the production and let the rawness lead?
Jared Bond: From the very beginning, Wild Guess announced itself as an “acoustic song.” Even though I still lean heavily on sarcasm in my writing, the emotional core of this one felt different.
The mood I wanted to share was reflective, mournful, frustrated, and a little hopeless. All those uncomfortable feelings demanded space. So instead of stacking production on top of them, I stripped everything back. It felt risky in the way honesty usually does, but it also felt right. If I wanted listeners to sit with these emotions, I had to sit with them first.
Punk Head: The attic studio setting is such an evocative image. How did that environment—the closeness, the nostalgia—shape the sound or your performance?
Jared Bond: When Jesse showed me the attic in early summer 2025, I knew instantly that Wild Guess belonged there. I had just “finished” the song a month earlier and felt like I’d stumbled onto something special.
To show him what I was aiming for, I played him stripped-back tracks like “Change” by Big Thief and “Land Locked Blues” by Bright Eyes—songs where you feel like you’re sitting in the room with the artist.
Jesse’s attic had that same magic baked into the walls. Quirky artwork, chipped paint, little creative artifacts everywhere—it all makes you feel braver to make something. And Jesse himself is meticulous in the best way; he knows exactly how to capture the room’s character rather than sterilize it.
You can actually hear the creaking floorboards joining in on the track. At first we tried avoiding them… then we realized they were part of the song’s DNA.
Punk Head: “Wild Guess” feels intimate but expansive, almost like a confession whispered out into the world. What emotion were you chasing when you first picked up the pen for this one?
Jared Bond: Lately my writing has sprung from a mix of cynicism, frustration, and heartache. I’ve started feeling like an old man shaking my fist at the world—but I think with good reason. When I look around, the world my generation grew up in feels increasingly foreign. I worry about what’s waiting for the generations coming next.
That’s what sparked the opening line. I am fascinated by prehistoric humanity and often imagine the struggles they must have endured. After millennia of innovation and progress—after all this labor to make our lives easier—how is daily life still such a struggle? Why are there still wars? Why are we so empty? And why does it feel like it isn’t getting better?
I started asking these questions sarcastically, and the refrain “take a wild guess”, was my tongue-in-cheek way of saying we all know why things are so messed up… even if we pretend not to.
For some reason we keep participating in this machine of loneliness, isolation, and shallow gratification. And the worst part is all the people at the top are so ill equipped to care or do anything about it.
Punk Head: The world is tense, uncertain, overwhelming. What do you hope listeners feel after hearing “Wild Guess”—comfort, recognition, provocation?
Jared Bond: This might sound selfish, but I try not to care about what people feel when they hear it. Every time I’ve tried creating with a goal like that in mind, the art suffers.
My only real hope is that the song makes people feel something. Anything. I believe in the piece enough to want it to reach hearts and ears, but beyond that, I don’t want to control the experience.
Sorry to dodge the question—but that’s the most honest answer I can give.
Punk Head: When you performed this song at The Ship, you said the audience was deeply engaged. Can you tell us more about it?
Jared Bond: The Ship is unlike any venue. Imagine the kitschy charm of a seafood restaurant, but lit like a cozy under-deck bar on a weathered ship—warm, moody, communal. The staff, the lights, the food, the drinks… everything makes you feel like you’re part of something special the moment you walk in. There’s no pretense there. Just people genuinely showing up for music and each other.
I dropped Wild Guess right in the middle of a loud rock set, fully expecting it to get swallowed by conversation. But as soon as I eased into the first verse, I felt the room shift. It wasn’t silence—it was attention. The kind that wraps around you.
It was thrilling and slightly terrifying. I’ve spent years hiding behind drums, where you’re both essential and invisible. Stepping into the front-person role—shedding the electric guitar, having the band take a break, standing there with just an acoustic and my own heart on display—was a leap. But a good one that felt like growth as a performer.
It was encouraging to hear people say it was their favorite song of the night. It made the terrifying vulnerability, emotionally and sonically, so worth it to have such a warm reception to an unreleased song. Now that it is out, I hope people can connect to it far and wide!
