To the hallowed grounds of EastWest Studios in Los Angeles, a studio big enough to sustain Decker’s vision of recording a robust album, live with no overdubs, in a mere two days. While others tried to convince him to pare down and record piece-by-piece, Decker insisted everyone would record only through directly connecting with each other and with the music; in the same moment, in the same space.  Decker brought his ensemble of 16 musicians, complete with horns, strings and choir to the studio and room where everyone from Frank Sinatra to Kendrick Lamar have made legendary records. Laughing, crying, breathing it all in together, there was no time to lie on couches and check phones.

That vibrancy of the moment bleeds through every song on the record. The brass feels like they were blown into town by a hurricane nursing one bottle of rum between them. The strings play like they believe they can still get off the sinking ship. Decker’s voice sounds like someone who has had to rescue many pages of poetry from the clutches of bullies.

After two days of recording, even before the album was mixed, Brandon felt the totality of grief rise up to finally be witnessed and celebrated, all to be let go into the air. A true grief ceremony, but one captured on tape. “I lived through this, I loved through this, I transformed, and now it is done,” he said.

PopMatters states, “It doesn’t take too long to recognize that the swirling psychedelic soundscapes that Brandon Decker paints with his music pull inspiration from his Sedona home.” Ouroboros, the latest collection of all that mystical wild energy and delicate poetry, is there for anyone’s rituals, battles, and moments of tenderly letting go.  The album releases June 9 through Kingston, NY’s esteemed Royal Potato Family.