more from
Mello Music Group

Look What This World Did To Us

by Chris Orrick

(free) 03:22


“Look What This World Did To Us.” The command is rhetorical. You’re already aware of the echo, the generational discontent and alienation, the whispered and denied calls for absolution. No need to look around, just check your bank account and sigh—or echo Biggie and scream, “fuck the world.”

Or melt into the couch and absorb Red Pill’s debut for Mello Music Group—a novel disguised as an album, a surly hymn from poisoned lungs. It’s a confirmation of what John Cage once declared: “all great art is a form of complaint. “

Or maybe the better comparison is Bukowski, memorializing the “broken factory windows of emptiness.” That makes more sense in Ferndale, Michigan where Red Pill calls home. After college graduation, “Leonard Letdown” started working at a machine shop. A temporary gig turned into a labor daze. The dream of converting music into rent money seemed more elusive by the day.

Depression compounded. The empty packs of cigarettes turned into cellophane towers. The whiskey mixed with an absence of hope. This album is a signal flare, an escape route, and catharsis. This isn’t just hip-hop, this is an attempt to distill the disillusion and cure the hangover. It’s both a brilliant mission statement and a jazzy funeral for what was promised but never delivered.

This is for those who played by the rules only to discover that the game was rigged. This is a toast for those entering their late 20s and still acting like adolescents. It’s an anti-Valentine to marriage and mortgages. It offers empathy for those buried under student loan and credit card debt, but who refuse to sink. Even if the smoke rings appear like nooses, this is an artful rebuttal to the nihilism.

Your favorite song will be determined by what theme you relate to most. Look What This World Did To Us is in league with the best of early Atmosphere or Open Mike Eagle’s Dark Comedy, a modern hustle of machinery and migraines. A commemoration of going a quarter century without a foundation and an acknowledgement of the nerves that accompany a future built atop fault lines. These are the late night conversations you have with your friends. The idle nights and empty bottles, the hard questions that come after you realize the world might not be yours.


released April 7, 2015


all rights reserved



Chris Orrick Detroit, Michigan

Chris Orrick is the patron saint of a poisoned world. The blue-collar MC writes spiteful chants for the permanently scarred, death letters for the forgotten, surly hymns for charcoal lungs. Think Bukowski on an eloquent bender, swapping wine for whiskey, a notepad for a glowing LED screen, the race track for the recording booth. These are anthems for the irate, over-educated and under-valued. ... more

contact / help

Contact Chris Orrick

Streaming and
Download help

Redeem code

Track Name: That's Okay
[Verse 1]
And there's some mornings that I want to cry
Feel like I'm mourning but nobody died
Put on some music take a morning drive
Try to remember that there's more than I
I made a promise and I swore to God
I'll break that promise around four or five
Me and you we got some more to hide
Feel like I'm losing but the score is tied
I hit the drive thru and I order fries
A burger and I watch the server pour the ice
Gotta imagine she's as poor as I
I know she wonders if there's more to life
She thinks about the future and she's mortified
Tells herself tonight she's getting organized
Having a crisis at a quarter life
Onions on my quarter pounder, didn't get my order right


But hey, that's okay
Tomorrow is another day
It's like, that's alright
Maybe in another life
I'm just trying to get my shit together
Just trying to get my shit together
Just trying to get my shit together

[Verse 2]

I'm just trying to get my shit together
Come here and we can sit together
Sit around and just forget together
Getting older, we don't live forever
I think this world could use some empathy
I don't think this world was meant for me
Now I believe that to the nth degree
I wasn't fit for this shit mentally
But it'll all work out eventually
I'll be seventy, reminiscing sentimentally
Assuming I achieve my life expectancy
And don't fall victim to heredity
Shit I'm just trying to live authentically
Respectably and find my own serenity
Feel like I'm walking this world endlessly
Dependency and failure of identity

Track Name: Rum & Coke
"Rum & Coke"

[Verse 1]

Now if you would've told me this is where I'd be at 25
I would've told you to go fuck yourself
I can't remember when's the last time that I felt alive
How can you when you don't love yourself?
I mean
I sit and waste away in this apartment
In this trendy little city where my girlfriend's car gets
Stolen right outside where she parked it
And all I do is get drunk and stare at the carpet
Like I should probably vacuum
I'm sick of looking at that coffee table covered in those past dues
And writing about that coffee table covered in those past dues
And every time that Dad calls, it's always fucking bad news
Then she texted me on her break, said she wanted to get away
I said we should go on a date
She asked if I'm sure that I can afford it, I said that it's not important
There's gotta be something more to life
We spend all this time on this planet, god damn it, we barely manage
Let's take a second to vanish
Imagine if we could do it, a couple kids in their twenties
Don't worry about the money,
The waitress'll take your order like


She said "Would it be alright if I got a rum & coke?"
I said "Baby for tonight, let's pretend that we're not broke"
Sick of living in tomorrow, should be living in the here
She whispered something in my ear and said

You only get this once, you better love it

[Verse 2]

Now I implore that you spend every single dollar that you have
You'll never find a happy man obsessed with piling up his cash
When the reaper comes to greet you and he's preying on your soul
You can beg and you can cry, but you can't pay him off in gold
So take a mortgage on my heart, what's a credit score to God?
It's been seven years and they're still bill collecting on my Mom
They'll come after you, long after you've been resting in your grave
Take every dollar that you made and every dollar that you saved
And spend that shit!
Spend it on the weekend, spend it on your girlfriend
Cuz when the world ends, goes off the deep end
My uncle said a lucky man will die with three friends
It doesn't make you loved to have a bank account with 3 Ms
It makes you loved to have some people in your life that love you
The most obvious shit I think I've ever said
It isn't money, or a house, or a cabin on a lake
It's a family, it's a spouse, loving every single day



It's the sound of the machines, drowning out my dreams
It's everything I hate and it's everything I am
It's the way I pack my lunch, it's the clock I gotta punch
It's everything I hate and it's everything I am
It's my motherfucking job, treating money like my god
It's everything I hate and it's everything I am
It's everything I hate and it's everything I am


If you like Chris Orrick, you may also like: