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Atticus Sorrell Finds Beauty in Heartbreak on 'Ram and the Bull'

  • Writer: Jennifer Gurton
    Jennifer Gurton
  • Jun 30
  • 6 min read

Some albums are built around a collection of songs. Others unfold like a story. On Ram and the Bull, singer-songwriter Atticus Sorrell delivers the latter, crafting a deeply personal record that traces the emotional arc of love, loss, and ultimately acceptance. Rooted in an eclectic blend of soul, folk rock, jazz, and psychedelia inspired by the golden era of 1970s songwriting, the album feels both timeless and unmistakably contemporary.

Across nine thoughtfully sequenced tracks, from the uplifting optimism of "Stand Tall" to the quiet reflection of "Grain of Sand," Sorrell invites listeners into an intimate emotional landscape. The title track serves as the album's emotional centerpiece, while songs like "Paper Crane" linger on the difficulty of letting go, exploring how memories and physical reminders can keep old wounds alive long after a relationship has ended.

What makes Ram and the Bull so compelling is its refusal to let heartbreak become bitterness. Instead, Sorrell approaches grief with compassion, presenting it as an inevitable companion to love rather than its opposite. His songwriting acknowledges that profound relationships leave permanent marks on who we become, but those impressions can shape us without defining us.

The album's warm, organic production only strengthens its emotional impact. Recorded live to tape before being expanded with lush arrangements featuring vibraphone, synthesizers, tape delay, and layered instrumentation, the record balances vintage textures with modern sensitivity. The result is a sound that recalls the spirit of classic singer-songwriters while remaining uniquely Sorrell's own.

Rather than offering simple answers, Ram and the Bull encourages listeners to remain open-hearted despite loss. It is an album about preserving tenderness in difficult moments and embracing the idea that to love deeply is also to risk grief. In that honesty, Atticus Sorrell has created a record that resonates long after its final note fades.



Ram and the Bull follows a clear emotional journey from love to loss to acceptance. At what point did you realize these songs belonged together as a complete album rather than individual releases? When I started piecing together songs for what would become Ram and the Bull, it looked very different. I had a lot of other songs that I initially wanted to put on the album. I went through a real creative spurt in the spring/summer of 2022 and wrote "Stand Tall", "Ram and the Bull", "Satellites", and "Many Reasons" within a few weeks of each other. After that, however, the album took a back seat. I was finishing up some recordings with The Be Colony, touring around with them, and then life got in the way. All of a sudden it was the fall of 2023, and I had fallen into a deep depression after the fallout of a relationship. Eventually, being in that state of mind inspired me to write "Paper Crane", "Not Quite", and "Gracie". It was after writing those songs that I realized I needed to rethink the album. I decided to cut nearly all of the other songs off the record. There was a clear theme of love and loss with these new songs, and I wanted to capitalize on that. They just sounded like they belonged together. 

You describe the record as a reminder not to let grief harden your heart. Was there a specific moment in your own life that shifted your perspective on love and healing while writing this album? Yeah, there was a specific moment, and it was getting dumped! I was totally gutted by the breakup. I really thought they were my person, and when it didn't work out, it devastated me. I was already at a stressful point in my life when things ended, and I think it just compounded things. It wasn't until I found this Ram Dass speech, "How To Keep Your Heart Open in Hell," that I made a turning point. Ram Dass talks about using grief as a vehicle for grace and compassion, and I found that really comforting and inspiring. That speech prompted the song, "The Way of Things". I had to learn some lessons about love and about myself so that I could become a better person. I was desperately clinging to my suffering. When I finally realized it was holding me back, I was able to see the pain as a teacher, and it completely changed my life for the better. 

Your music draws inspiration from classic '70s artists while still feeling fresh and personal. How do you balance honoring those influences without losing your own artistic identity? I grew up on 60s and 70s music. I was always drawn to it as a kid. It became the building blocks for my musical upbringing. Initially, it was hard for me to relate to modern music because the music from the 60s and 70s felt so much more impactful and meaningful. As a kid, those artists were "new" to me. I would do deep dives on entire discographies of artists through that era. Each musical discovery led to another. Since I was immersed in that era, it always felt fresh and modern. The best part is that there's still another old record or artist to check out. It wasn't until college that I really got into more contemporary artists. In a way, my artistic identity has always been intertwined with 60s and 70s music ever since I was a little boy. It was never about paying tribute, really. Those sounds are just what comes to me naturally. However, my modern influences are definitely very important to me as well. I like to hear what my peers and contemporaries are doing. And I love to see how they filter and meld their influences and inspirations through themselves. While it's really rewarding to look back in the past, I've learned that it's equally as inspiring to see how new artists push the boundaries of music. Bands like Hiatus Kaiyote, Brainstory, Skinshape, Kate Bollinger, Jonah Yano, Big Thief, DJ Harrison, Improvement Movement, and Billie Marten were really inspiring during the making of this album.

Songs like "Paper Crane" explore the emotional attachment we place on memories and physical objects after relationships end. Was writing about those experiences therapeutic, or did it force you to revisit emotions you weren't ready to confront? Writing these songs helped me process my grief and sort out my emotions. It was the way to turn the sadness into something meaningful. The music was a creative outlet that I used to get back to myself again. Overall, it was a cathartic experience. However, due to how long it has taken to release this music, I am excited to move on. I'm really proud of this album, and it is some of the best music I've ever made. However, I am really ready to record new music and step away from these themes. I want to get back to my roots and make a true rock'n ' roll album. I just have to give Ram and the Bull a proper send-off first.

After listeners reach the final track, "Grain of Sand," what do you hope stays with them long after the album is over?


I think after "Grain of Sand", I hope that listeners take away that sometimes relationships don't work out and that's okay. It doesn't mean that the love you shared with someone was in vain or for nothing. The ones we love shape the way we navigate through life; they leave permanent impressions in our souls. We carry moments with everyone we've ever loved in our hearts forever, and that is a beautiful thing. Those I believe are the things we take with us when we pass on. I hope that people can take away that loss and grief play an integral part in life. They teach us to be gracious for the life we've been given. That we are blessed to give and receive love and compassion. And finally, most of our problems are so small and meaningless in the grand scheme of things. I think that should be a comforting notion. Our grief doesn't have to carry so much weight. Life is precious and short. Don't let grief and sadness take you away from the dance of life for too long. They're supposed to help you grow wise and love abundantly. Everything's gonna work out one way or another. 

 
 
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