High Fiction isn’t a band. It’s more of an experience, a way of connecting with other humans through music and lyrics.

You may have first known High Fiction as a high profile music blog producing the highly controversial Battle of the Bands in the Boulder International Fringe Festival that ended in several cult members and one judge being thrown into the pool of Boulder’s Broker Inn.

Or you may have seen their Tiny Desk video submission in front of the famous desk made out of books at BookBar.

Did you see them performing for a dance show or with a gospel choir? I’m not sure.

Or you may have seen their acclaimed and drunken interviews with Colorado Book Award winning author, Gregory Hill, at the now legendary Still Cellars.

Did they open for themselves as the alt-experimental-jazz-pencil-protector-improv-duo “We Are Wallace Shawn”? Unlikely.

Or possibly you know them from their magical Variety Nights at an undisclosed speakeasy location in Arvada featuring Fictional Karaoke and the gorgeous Fictional Singers.

Perhaps you spotted them at the Hotel Cafe in Hollywood.

Certainly, absolutely you know of their work hosting the annual Fucking Fabulous Fiction Fest at the Oriental Theatre with a host of authors and co-produced by the inimitable Bookbar.

And you’ve listened to their debut album “to whom: it may concern” featuring guests such as Ron Miles, Janet Feder, and Matt Berninger of the National.

But I’ll remind you that High Fiction is not a band. High Fiction is Amy Shelley, Gary Grundei, an ever-growing roster of talented guests and you.
“Holy shit! That is phenomenal stuff. Seriously. Wow!” —Jeff F.

“High Fiction is so good. ‘No More Mistakes’ rules.” — Matt B.