Ragged. Resurrected. Relentless.

Four dolls who outlived hell now play the loudest gig on the other side.
No refunds. No encore. No way back.

They cut us out
of burlap, sewed
us shut, and threw
us away.

We didn't gather here to whine about fate. We gathered here to start a fire. We are hardcore born from pain, and our only way out is the stage. We take all the dirt they trampled us into and turn it into a heavy, merciless sound.

We are the puppets who ripped the strings from the puppeteer's hands. We are the cursed who have stopped being afraid.

— you know your worth. Now sing it.

THE BAND

Melvin — the Hanged

Six-seven string · power

MELVIN

“The Hanged”

He was once a human being — a talented guitarist who played in underground bands. But his talent was poisoned by arrogance. For the sake of a contract, fame, and money, he betrayed his band and abandoned his family; he trampled on those who loved him and sold out his friends. He lived by the principle that only he mattered. He believed music was his ticket to immortality and that people were merely tools to achieve his ends.

His talent was poisoned by pride. MORE INFORMATION
Rusty — the Ashed

five string · the favorite doll

NEIL

“Rusty”

He was never a person. He's a hand-sewn rag doll — burlap skin, one button eye, a black-thread cross for the other. A boy called him his best friend and dreamed they'd grow up to be rock stars together. The boy grew up. The box went to the attic. The house burned down. Everything turned to ash — except Rusty. Some fires make you softer. His made him louder.

Tempered in the flames, the spirit is forged. MORE INFORMATION
The Voice — face of Dollars

vocal · the face

KYLE&LOKI

“Echo”

Kyle was a rag doll with a bright, melodic voice — a boy's favorite toy, lost in a move, then found by a bitter girl who crudely stitched a second head onto him. Unhappy with the result, she hurled him into a storm drain. In the dark, the new head began to stir. It couldn't see, but it could scream — a shriek that echoed off the concrete, distorted and heavy with menace. Thus, Loki was born.

first note. last bite. MORE INFORMATION
The Pulse — drummer of Dollars

drums · the heartbeat

STACY

“The Tempo”

She was neither a human nor a beloved toy — an anti-stress voodoo doll on a flustered Director's desk, there to take the pins. Her mouth was stitched shut with coarse thread, so she endured in silence. Inside her canvas body beat a titanium metronome: she loved System and Rhythm, yet all around her was chaos. One day, she walked out. Now she holds the beat from the back — don't play off-key around her.

listen for the heartbeat in the breakdown MORE INFORMATION

GALLERY

Savor every frame — every shot was taken on a night we shouldn't have survived.

scroll and explore

FUCK THE SYSTEM

press play — eleven songs recorded on the wrong side of the afterlife. earbuds only.