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About Orebro

So here’s the pitch, bear with me. You’re this loner, right? Kinda like Adam—tall, pale, too cool for life. But instead of guitars, you’re dodgin’ cops, lookin’ for a hooker in some gritty city. Maybe Detroit, ‘cause Jarmusch loves that decay aesthetic. You’re wanderin’, hearin’ that line in my skull—“When you separate an entwined particle…”—and I’m thinkin’, yeah, this guy’s entangled, alright! With dames, with trouble, with his own damn misery. Pretty, pretty good setup, huh? I’m pattin’ myself on the back already.

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Anyway, I finally get to the stables. The smell of hay and horses hits me like a warm hug. I love it. But then I see my horse, Flash. He’s lookin’ at me like, “Dude, I’m not feelin’ it today.” Great. Just great. I’m tryin’ to pump him up, but he’s givin’ me the side-eye.

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