By Indi Tejeda – June 13th, 2026

Sean Gunner Lee’s music lives in the space between emotions. His debut solo album, Billie Rude, I Loved You, embraces melancholy and hope, nostalgia and growth, and certainty and ambiguity. Rather than chasing perfection, Lee focuses on the moments that exist between extremes – the feelings that are often hardest to define but most deeply felt.
As an LA native, a Korean American artist, and a longtime session and touring guitarist, Lee spent years helping other musicians bring their visions to life. Billie Rude, I Loved You became an opportunity to do something different—authentically show up as himself. Built from deeply personal writing and a commitment to honesty, the record reflects not only Lee’s artistic influences but also the process of rediscovering his own voice.
I had the opportunity to sit down with Sean Gunner Lee to discuss the album’s creation. We spoke about the beauty of imperfection, finding community through music, and what it means to make art that feels unapologetically human.

Q: The record has a really atmospheric ’80s alternative feeling. When you were building the mood for Billie Rude, I Loved You, what feeling were you trying to capture?
A: Melancholy, but with hope. I’m a huge fan of the Cocteau Twins. What I love about their music is that it doesn’t feel purely sad or purely happy. It lives in those in-between emotions. I wanted the record to feel like the words were standing in the center while all this sound swirled around them. A lot of that came from layering. I found this cheap keyboard at a Salvation Army that had a string synth patch on it. By itself it sounded pretty terrible, but when I processed and layered it, it created this feeling that there was something happening between all the instruments.
Those spaces between emotions became really important to me. The ’80s influence is definitely there too. X&Y by Coldplay was a huge influence, along with Brian Eno and My Bloody Valentine. I wanted the record to sound lush and full while still feeling human and alive.
Q: You have spent years working and playing in the Los Angeles music scene, and this album carries a heavy sense of nostalgia and longing. How has living and working in Los Angeles shaped the themes on this record?
A: The older I get, the more I’m fighting against cynicism. I’ve watched trends come and go in Los Angeles. I’ve seen people fall in love with things, become jaded, move on to the next thing and repeat the cycle. What I’ve learned is that I actively choose hope.
There’s a lyric on the record that says, “Freedom’s never really gone. You and I are here to find it.” In today’s world that can sound naive or cheesy, but I genuinely believe it. I want that to be true.
The biggest thing LA taught me was how easy it is to lose yourself. You’re constantly adapting to different artists, different scenes and different expectations. At some point I realized I needed to ask myself what I actually loved about music.
This album is the result of that. It’s the music I loved as a kid. It’s the guitar playing, songwriting and influences that originally made me fall in love with making music.

Q: The production is incredibly lush, but it also preserves imperfections. Why was it important to keep those moments instead of polishing everything?
A: Because that’s how the music was made. There are tape artifacts, little mistakes and imperfections throughout the record. People suggested removing some of them, but to me they prove that the music was made by people. They show the process.
I used to do a lot of session work, and toward the end I’d get calls from producers asking me to “humanize” guitar parts. The parts were already technically perfect. What they meant was they wanted something less precise, less quantized and more human.
That stuck with me. We’ve reached a point where perfection is easy. Imperfection is what’s difficult. It takes restraint to leave something imperfect when every instinct tells you to fix it.
I’m not a perfect person. I make mistakes all the time. I wanted the record to reflect that. Those imperfections became part of the honesty of the project.
Q: After years as a session and touring guitarist helping other artists realize their visions, what did making a solo album teach you about your own artistic voice?
A: This project started because I couldn’t not say something. My previous work was more of a calling card. It was me showing people what I could do as a guitarist, producer and collaborator. This album was different. I finally had something I needed to say.
Working with other artists taught me a lot. I absorbed everything—how producers run sessions, songwriting techniques, creative processes—but eventually I had to figure out what was actually mine.
As a Korean American, I spent a lot of my life feeling like other people were telling me who I was supposed to be. This record became my way of saying, “This is who I am. Take it or leave it.”
The most surprising thing is that people have connected with it. That’s still wild to me. Because when people respond to this record, they’re responding to me. It’s the most honest thing I’ve ever made, and it took a long time to figure out how to be myself.

Sean Gunner Lee not only articulates who he is as an artist through Billie Rude, I Loved You, but through conversation as well. Thoughtful, reflective and deeply self-aware, he carries the same authenticity that defines the album into every aspect of his creative practice. In many ways, Lee embodies a broader shift happening across contemporary art: one that values vulnerability as much as technical skill, and sincerity as much as innovation. The result is music that feels distinctly personal yet widely resonant.
Billie Rude, I Loved You is available now on all streaming platforms. Follow Sean Gunner Lee on Instagram, and keep an eye out for upcoming performances in Southern California and beyond.
