In the adjacent room of Mr. Habereder's music production classroom at Poly High, Brandon Joseph spent his entire senior year teaching himself drums and perfecting his guitar technique. The teacher had given him unusual freedom after recognizing skills the teenager had developed on his own.
"Basically for the whole school year, all I did that year is just play guitar in class," Brandon told The Raincross Gazette in an exclusive phone interview Friday, his voice lifting with the memory. The 27-year-old alt-R&B artist, who performs simply as "Brandon," was calling from Phoenix, but his thoughts kept returning to Riverside—the city that shaped him and continues to anchor his identity even as his career ascends.
That rootedness challenges an industry where suburban artists routinely claim Los Angeles, regardless of actual ZIP code. Brandon's debut album "Before You Go," released in May on respected indie label Secretly Canadian, represents a different kind of authenticity: 11 tracks written, produced and recorded entirely in his Riverside home studio by an artist who refuses to obscure his Inland Empire origins.
"I think where I'm from has made me strong," Brandon said, the words coming after a long discussion about his Eastside upbringing near Bordwell Park, his path through Riverside Christian Day School and Poly High, and the teachers who encouraged his creativity. "Everything combined: my family roots, where I grew up, and what I went through growing up has made me the person I've grown to be."
His Instagram bio states it plainly: "riverside, ca 🇹🇹." The Trinidad flag acknowledges his heritage—his grandmother moved the family from Trinidad and Tobago in the 1970s and '80s, establishing roots that run deep through Riverside's Eastside. His Bandcamp and SoundCloud profiles echo the geographic claim: "from riverside, ca."
When Brandon shot his 2020 music video for "Baby," he deliberately chose Riverside locations, filming in the neighborhoods that raised him. "In his hometown the desert suburb Riverside, California," Okayplayer noted, highlighting a choice that many rising artists wouldn't make.
The most formative moment in Brandon's musical journey came during his senior year at Poly, involving a guitar that had haunted his closet for years. His mother had bought it when he was younger, but the only available teacher would only teach right-handed technique. Brandon, a true lefty, tried to adapt.
"I literally just felt so uncomfortable to the point where I would cry," he remembered, his voice dropping. "It was just really awkward and it just felt so wrong. I'm a true, true, true, true lefty."
The guitar sat unused until his cousin Nikki gave him another one. Still, it gathered dust until one day during his senior year when something shifted. "I was kind of just like, you know what? Today's the day." He picked it up, strung right-handed for about two weeks, then finally got new strings and restrung it upside down—a left-handed solution to a right-handed world. He practiced after school, after track practice, "till I couldn't feel my fingers anymore."
"I feel unstoppable with the guitar in my hand," Brandon emphasized, his voice gaining intensity over the phone. "The guitar itself can morph and become anything you want it to be. You don't get that with a lot of instruments."
That versatility matters to Brandon, who sees parallels between the instrument and his own experience. "As Black people, we have had to morph. We've had to change. We've had to do many things. We're chameleons, you know, we can almost do anything."
His musical identity directly challenges industry assumptions. "When people find out I'm a musician, their first assumption is that I rap, or make R&B music, based off of the way that I look," Brandon explained. "But I want to inspire kids who look like me to make whatever music they want."
Brandon's sound—guitar-led compositions drawing comparisons to Frank Ocean, Steve Lacy and Sampha—represents what he calls "a different definition of what black music is." He's working to expand that definition while acknowledging its roots: "People don't know Black people invented rock and roll."
His commitment to studying music runs deep. During the years leading to his album, Brandon would dedicate months, sometimes a full year, to studying specific artists or genres: D'Angelo, Joni Mitchell, The Beatles, Todd Rundgren, jazz. "Being a student of the game is how you become great," he insisted.
The breakthrough came with his 2020 EP "Coming Clean," which earned millions of streams and prompted national attention. DJBooth, a leading hip-hop and R&B publication, headlined a profile by writer Donna-Claire Chesman: "Riverside's Brandon Doesn't Shy Away From Emotion."
When Secretly Canadian—the indie label home to Phoebe Bridgers, Bon Iver and Faye Webster—approached Brandon in 2024, they offered something crucial: creative freedom without requiring relocation. The July signing validated his DIY approach while allowing him to maintain his Riverside base.
"Before You Go" emerged from years of patient work and profound personal experience. The title track captures a specific moment of loss—a relationship ending as the woman he was dating left for a six-month Peace Corps-style humanitarian trip. "Resting in the unknown," Brandon reflected, "is a big motif of the album."
The album's emotional centerpiece might be "You," written in 2019 during Brandon's first visit to Trinidad. He was sitting in his mother's childhood bedroom in Dago Martin, surrounded by the beauty of the island, when unexpected words began flowing.
"I'm sitting there in my mom's childhood bedroom writing this, and I'm thinking, 'This is wild,'" he recalled. Later, in his aunt's guest house in Charlotteville, Tobago's easternmost fishing village, he continued writing while looking out at the ocean. "It's this crazy juxtaposition that I could be looking at the most beautiful thing I've ever seen and writing these words that are absolutely gut-wrenching."
The paradox exemplifies the emotional complexity threading through "Before You Go." Brandon wanted listeners to discover the album's deeper narrative themselves: "When you reach the end, you're kind of just like, what did you learn? Did you learn anything? Or are you right back where you started?"
Music publications embraced the album's nuanced approach. Consequence writer Mary Siroky named lead single "Right Back" among the week's best songs, calling it "a soulful alt-pop track." Paste Magazine critic Candace McDuffie praised "Seeing Stars," writing that it proves "a well-sung love song will hit home every time."
Throughout this rising success, Brandon continues recording in his Riverside home studio. When asked about his ideal weekend in town, his response painted a portrait of deep local connection: seeing high school friend Kyle, hiking Mount Rubidoux with his mother ("she'll probably convince me"), lunch at Delia's, coffee at Arcade Coffee Roastery, and a stop at Devereaux House.
For Brandon, making it means something specific: "I've always said this. I haven't made it yet until I sell out the Fox."
The Fox Performing Arts Center, Riverside's historic 1929 theater, represents more than a venue. After years of closure, its reopening thrilled Brandon. "It's such a historic place," he said, his voice carrying genuine reverence. While he appreciates venues like Farmhouse Collective and Riverside Art Museum, the Fox embodies his definition of hometown success.
Brandon's trajectory suggests possibilities for other Inland Empire artists wrestling with geographic identity. By centering Riverside in his narrative—from his Instagram bio to his album's creation story—he's demonstrating that authentic representation of place can resonate as powerfully as strategic repositioning.
"Music just makes me feel like I'm closer to God," Brandon reflected near the end of our conversation. "That doesn't mean it has to be gospel. I don't have to be in the church. I feel like that when I put my hands on my guitar or when I'm just walking around and singing."
That spiritual connection, rooted in Riverside church choirs and nurtured in Poly High classrooms, now reaches audiences through Secretly Canadian's distribution network. Yet Brandon remains where he started, in the city that made him strong.
Recently performing at the Constellation Room in Santa Ana and the Teragram Ballroom in Los Angeles, Brandon brought his Riverside-made sound to regional venues. But his dream remains local, specific, and uncompromising.
"Selling out the Fox," he repeated. "That's my dream."
More information: For upcoming show dates and ticket information, visit Brandon's Linktree. Follow him on Instagram @brandonbrandonbrandon.
