Orynth Savorne channels exile into a raw, gloomy, unapologetic rock manifestation — the kind of sound built on fumes, ache, and whatever’s left in the bottle.

His debut isn’t here to compete; it’s here to decay — a release destined to rot beautifully in the digital graveyard of the 21st century.

The themes are apocalyptic and fractured:
ruined streets, stray animals, lowlifes, derelict lovers, collapsing faith, and everything that crawls through the cracks when the world stops pretending.

It isn’t hopeful.
It isn’t desperate.
It’s simply honest.

A hell of a time — for those who can stand to stay.

Followers of The Rickshaws