Buck Ramble is older now—but not finished.
He’s traded horsepower for a rocking chair, the open range for a north-facing porch, and the need to run for the grace to stay. Across the River Stones is the final chapter in a life lived hard and redeemed slowly, where every song feels like a lesson learned the honest way.

He sings about summer storms on tin roofs, unsent letters that became fuel instead of regret, and the kind of dancing only a worn-out body can do with total freedom. He gives fatherly advice to sons both real and imagined. He revisits old legends—like Doc Holliday—not to retell history, but to bless the men who never got the peace he found.

This album is not about dying. It’s about finally living right, even if you came late to the lesson. It’s about choosing joy over bitterness, letting humor outlast pride, and knowing when to put the past down so you can still move your feet when the fiddle kicks in.

There’s no final showdown here—just acceptance, gratitude, and a groove that somehow keeps getting faster at the end. The porch still faces north, the rain still falls, and Buck Ramble is still singing—maybe softer now, but truer than ever.


Every man carries something—
this is the sound of learning what to lay down
and what to dance with anyway.

A Man Can Only Carry So Much

Volant Records is a story-driven label and shared universe: cinematic concept albums, stutter-house, western sagas, haunted pop, and hymn-like instrumentals. Home to Jupiter Morrow, Avaline Ingels, Shadow Face, Buck Ramble, Choralith and more. All Worlds Reserved®.