It was last month that we first wrapped our ears around Burn The Garden, the new album from Brisbane-based artist Dekomodo. The album is truly unlike anything we’ve heard before, so fresh off its release, we caught up with the man behind the music, Sebastian Radzikowski, for a complete run-down of each track.
Hot off the release of his amazingly unique new album Burn The Garden, we caught up with Dekomodo for a complete track-by-track run-down.
There’s not much to say about this one. Hidden is an open invitation into my room, into my music, and into my mind. On one hand, I want you to come in, and on the other, I want to be left alone.
This one’s inspired by Cal Newport’s book of the same name. I found myself unable to produce any work for a significant period of time, predominately because I couldn’t sit down for long periods of time without being distracted. The summer of 2018 taught me a lot about focus and determination.
Burn the Garden
I remember once looking out at my first garden; a horrendous mess. Overgrown weeds, the soil neglected; I remember just wanting to burn it down and start it again. I was disgusted in my green thumb and truly disappointed with my vision. The exact same thing happened with this album, and this song was the only thing that got me back on board. Perhaps it was the sight of an unfinished mess, or a general sense of existentialism.
Venus Fly Traps
The lyricism of this song emerges from a part of my mind I spend the majority of my life avoiding. Yet consciousness is not the thinker; while the song dips into the dark side of the mind, it’s able to pull itself out simply by being aware of the thoughts themselves.
Finding Space exists in two planes. One half is composed of structure, melody and traditional instrumentation, the other expands upon new horizons. In its lyricism, two halves can also be observed. In the first, I’m telling my partner to meditate more and focus more on the present moment, while in the second half I’m doubting the reality of existence itself. The song in itself is a voyage, or perhaps a transition, into the unknown.
I grew up in a predominately religious household, yet in the current day, I don’t believe anything. My skepticism has expanded into all facets of life as a result, yet there are certain things I just cannot explain. This is true especially in relation to my own personal views of the world, I cannot say anything with certainty. Thus, Wormwood is the epitome of my own paranoia and similarly of ignorance.
In the cold winters of my neighbourhood, I very often see Rainbow Lorikeets fall dead from the trees, sometimes up to ten a morning. The more you know about someone, the more you realise you’re completely different than them. I don’t always see eye to eye with my friends’ opinions or interests; though without my friends I wouldn’t be able to get through life. Like the lorikeets, I need them to keep me warm.
Lost Within exists at a crossroads in my life, prior to Burn the Garden. It was at a time I was giving up on life, and simply wanted to retreat to the fantasy worlds presented in video games. I remember, for instance, spending more than 200 hours in one month alone in Skyrim. There came a point, around the time I started meditating seriously, that I saw myself from the third-person perspective. I remember laying on my bedroom floor for four hours thinking that something had to change. Lost Within is the precursor to Burn the Garden, and anytime I hear the song in my head, it’s a reminder of a place I don’t want to return to.
Hitting a Wall
Years ago, I had an awful relationship experience. It was during a time when I started to hit things as a release of my anxieties. It started with pillows, before leading onto personal belongings such as
chairs and even my own computer at one stage. Objects were meaningless to me. I lived near a house being deconstructed at one point, and over the course of a month, I’d venture inside and tear
the entire place apart. It was equally thrilling and nerve-wracking. Problems began to arise when I broke my hands and ran out of things to destroy. Thus, Hitting a Wall is merely the end of a chapter for me. These days I meditate very frequently; there’s no reason to worry about me.
Creativity to me is simply chance. Sometimes the erroneous off-note can portray more emotion than originally intended. When creating a piece of work, I feel it’s best to bridge these moments. Bricolage is an anthem for things to come, as long as my music resonates with other people.
Burn The Garden is available now. Listen above.