more from
Mello Music Group

Out To Sea

by Chris Orrick

/
  • Streaming + Download

    Pre-order of Out To Sea. You get 3 tracks now (streaming via the free Bandcamp app and also available as a high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more), plus the complete album the moment it’s released.
    Purchasable with gift card
    releases May 24, 2019

      $7.99 USD  or more

     

  • Full Digital Discography

    Get all 6 Chris Orrick releases available on Bandcamp and save 25%.

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Out To Sea, Portraits, Day Drunk LP, Instinctive Drowning, Look What This World Did To Us, and Learning To Punch (EP). , and , .

    Purchasable with gift card

      $34.46 USD or more (25% OFF)

     

1.
02:19
2.
03:43
3.
(free) 03:06
4.
Spent A Lot Of Time
5.
A Dying Man
6.
America Online
7.
Wallow Hard
8.
Daylight
9.
Flesh & Bone

about

Let’s offer a toast to the return of Chris Orrick, rap’s poet laureate of imperial decline. It’s springtime in the dystopia, the birds are coughing up blood, the bees are dying at an alarming rate, and Michigan’s most acerbic misanthrope has emerged from winter hibernation with a clutch of doomed stanzas about cold pizza and liver destruction. His latest for Mello Music Group, Out to Sea, might not be easy listening, but it’s impossible to ignore.

Consider Orrick the wry heir to the morbid humor of Mitch Hedberg, the barfly blues of Charles Bukowski, and the caustic rust belt satire of Michael Moore. He’s an iconoclast from a proud tradition—a thoughtful and sensitive realist who uses laughter as a way to stifle the tears. The album begins with an act of contrition: a disembodied voice shakily addresses an audience: “if I brought you down, thank you very much for showing me where I’m at. I guess I don’t really have much more to do.”

But it’s more than words, as it usually is. The voice wobbles into a weird space, trembling and swaying, unsure whether it’s about to crack up or weep inconsolably. The audience doesn’t seem to know what to do—nervously giggling and half-groaning. Then he continues, “if you don’t want me to continue then I guess I won’t.” Before it fades out, he again adds, “thank you for showing me where I’m at.”

It’s testament to Orrick’s self-lacerating genius that he can’t offer anything less than uncomfortable, sliced-to-the-marrow honesty. This is where he’s at and there is never a second of subterfuge. He will be the first to call himself a drunken, overweight Midwesterner riddled with social anxiety, consumed by fear and loathing, whose primary gift and weapon is writing songs and tape recording them.

If it hurts to listen to this record, it should. It’s an anvil-split hangover, a brutal unflinching document of a 30-year old man terrified that these words could be his last. He’s watched too many friends die young of heart attacks and overdoses, cancer and suicide. He tries to numb himself because he feels too much. He is too self-aware for self-pity, but too set in his ways to change. This is reality rap of a different strain—one that lives up to Prodigy’s axiom to put “your lifetime between the paper lines.”

Out to Sea began without any overarching ideas—writing as a way of figuring out what he needed to say and as a form of catharsis. Themes of stormy weather and disastrous climate started to materialize from the fog of word. It was an easy leap to link them with mental illness and the diseased discourse that has infected the political climate in the Trump era. Out to Sea is an attempt to communicate beyond reductive binaries—not some naïve both-sides-ism bullshit but a fragile and lasting document sketched through a vale of sadness and a haunted concern for humanity.

There are, of course, the songs, messages in a bottle that alternate between comic sketches and S.O.S flares. It starts “Out to Sea,” a rum-soaked missive about being alienated from society.” “Funny Things” is a poison pill slipped to the far right, who offer mean-spirited jokes throughout our downward spiral. “Liquor Store Hustle” is a hilarious vignette about a corner store run to buy the most disgusting food that you’d drunkenly want to eat. While “A Dying Man” artfully interpolates Elliott Smith’s “Fond Farewell,” a harrowing portrait of substance abuse. The most devastating of all might be “Wallow Hard,” where Orrick stares into the abyss, considering whether all of this effort has been a waste, and assessing whether he should just give up the ghost or become one himself.

In the hands of a lesser artist, these are themes and moments that could seem melodramatic or overwrought but with Orrick, there is a rare sense of consequences and lament, a brilliant gift for dark poesy and sly self-deprecating humor. It is music to cope and as a form of survival, a chance to find meaning in a world that frequently seems bereft of it—a record that will leave you shaken to the core, reconsidering the radiation and delirium that gradually has consumed modern life. If we still exist in a few decades, we will be able to return to Out to Sea, and listen to the soundtrack of a society that seems hopelessly adrift

credits

releases May 24, 2019

Recorded by Charlie Beans for Five30 Music
Mixed by Magnetic
Mastered by Joe Hutchinson
Graphic Design Austin Hart

Thank you to Kath, Dad, Mom, Steve, Mike, Jay, Mello, Austin, Charlie, Tim, Mags, Joe Hutchinson, Nolan, Suhki, S I M, Manley and Alcapella.

Executive Producer Michael Tolle

This album is dedicated to the damage done by the 2016 United States Presidential Election, Social Media and the 24 Hour News Cycle.


Sounds Beautiful Like The Truth
Mello Music Group, 2019

license

all rights reserved

tags

about

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: Out To Sea
We can start at the beginning, we can start at the end
We can do the things we want or be a part of the trend
So here I am, all alone, all afloat on a boat
In the middle of the ocean with no destination known
I got my tiki cup, I got my stash of rum
I got this silly brain of mine I know I have to numb
I let the stars above become my guide, enjoy the ride
I got my fishing rod, the wish of god is by my side
I got a compass, I have studied all the shifting tides
I got a notebook and the thoughts of mine that live inside
I have escaped the daily grind and getting paid for time
Time is never of the essence I don't pay it mind
I follow daylight and the coming of the rising moon
Searching for my paradise, I hope to find it soon
But I have no need or no love for cartographers
I am a servant to the ocean so I follow her

North, West, South, East

I used to be the type that would get sea sick
I found that fighting it was not the way to treat it
In shallow water I can anchor down and have a swim
I learned when someone drowns it's usually from panicking
I'm trying to stay the course and stay away from shorelines
I like to be alone, be unconcerned with your shine
The sun it shines abundant, use it as a resource
Stock it up and use when you have a need for it
I put my letters in a bottle if you find one
Take it out and then replace it with some fine rum
Put it back to sea and hope that it gets back to me
Hope my story ends in such a fashion that it's happily
I put my eyes to rest tonight and listen to the waves
Red sky in the morning and I won't be saved
As the hurricane approaches I have found some peace
This will be my final letter while I'm out to sea
Track Name: Funny Things
I like funny people, funny faces, saying funny things
While I'm laughing so hysterically I spill my funny drink
With this funny chemical that makes me feel funny things
Instead of all this sad shit, in my funny fucking mind
And I'm struggling so desperately to block it out and try
To close the skin flaps that cover up my funny looking eyes
So I don't have to think about this funny little country
With funny little slips of paper that we call our money
With funny looking men who wore very funny wigs
That we obtain by doing variously gigs
And the government is funny cuz they take a little portion
Then they spend it all on war and make us fight about abortion
And don't forget about the funny guns
We give to funny men who think it's funny watching children run
And other funny men go on their funny little shows
And think it's funny that they way to fix it won't ever be known

It's funny, everything is funny
Everything is funny, Everything is funny
Come on everybody!
Everything is funny, everything is funny
Everything is funny!

When everything is funny, it's easier to think about the world's greatest country
I find it all hilarious, absolutely nothing going on could be nefarious
It's all so very comical, don't believe your eyes guys, none of this is possible
It's worthy of some knee slapping, only question that I have is:
Why aren't you laughing?

I think it's funny how much fun it is we're all having together
Doing funny things while up above is very funny weather
That funnily enough keeps getting funnier and funnier
It's funner when it's warm outside, it's funner when it's sunnier
It's funny when the earth is screaming, "Stop this isn't funny!"
And all the scientists with all their funny little studies
It's funny how much people don't find any of this funny
Maybe I'm the funny dummy and the rest of them are lucky
Why aren't you laughing at the funny things?
The jester's in on the joke, see he's laughing with the funny king
Who rallies up his base, that isn't actual hate in him
Casual racism isn't actual racism
And red pillers just want to know how to date women
The crazies on the fringe, it's the radicals who hate women
Relax buddy you're about to come unglued
If you weren't so fucking stuck up you might find it funny too

It's funny, everything is funny
Everything is funny, Everything is funny
Come on everybody!
Everything is funny, everything is funny
Everything is funny!

When everything is funny, it's easier to think about the world's greatest country
I find it all hilarious, absolutely nothing going on could be nefarious
It's all so very comical, don't believe your eyes guys, none of this is possible
It's worthy of some knee slapping, only question that I have is:
Why aren't you laughing?
Track Name: Liquor Store Hustle
Ten o'clock on the dot running out of booze

Only got a couple shots plus I need some food

Grab my wallet, grab my keys then put on my shoes

Hit the door, liquor store, yes I got the blues

I don't know if I'm okay enough to drive

And if I gotta ask that I probably shouldn't drive

Here we go, gas pedal, only got a couple blocks

Liquid confidence, motherfuck the cops



Do that liquor store hustle



Parking lot, park the car, yeah I made it this far

Struggling, stumble in, this shouldn't be this hard

Fluorescent, four seconds in, this is a mistake

Imaginary line on the floor for me to fixate

Headed straight for the snack aisle

They don't notice, nothing weird just another fat guy

Grab some food, grab some booze, pay the man and leave

Victory is mine and the mission is complete



Do that liquor store hustle

Back home, driveway, breathing out relief

Cops - 0 Chris - 1, relish their defeat

Inside pour a drink, microwave the pizza rolls

Yes I am a man child, love me or leave me alone

Preferably the latter

Getting older, getting sadder, getting fatter

Television Pawn Stars, I don't even like this show

Two hours late and I'm on the seventh episode



Do that liquor store hustle



Now it's twelve o'clock, still hungry, drunker than a skunk

Pizza place, call them up, they don't close till one

You remember large with banana pepper rings

Pepperoni, ranch dressing and a side of wings

Yeah, look what this world did to us

Hour later, on the couch, passed out still sitting up

Pizza man is in the window, banging on the door

I paid with a credit card, leave it on the porch



Do that liquor store hustle



Waking up 6AM, TV at a hundred still

Lights on, crack of dawn, fuck man I'm hungry still

Light bulb, great idea, pizza on the front porch

Fuck you it's cold enough, yes I'm gonna eat that shit

Untouched, unscathed, I believe in miracles

Can't think of words that rhyme with miracle

Ate it cold in the box then went straight to bed

At thirty years, honestly, I call that success

If you like Chris Orrick, you may also like: