He tuned his soul to the sound of chrome.
Raised on riffs and the rumble of home.
Leather and scars were the only truth.
He found his church in a barroom booth.
The road was long but the rhythm stayed.
Every mile was a debt he paid.
They don’t ask why — they just roll.
Gasoline hearts and rock and roll.
If you’ve got a brother at your side…
You don’t need a map for the ride.
Rock and ride — through the fire and the rain.
Through the breakdown, the bruises, the pain.
Rock and ride — with your boots on the line.
Every chord, every curve, every sign.
Rock and ride — when the world says no.
You throttle up and let it go.
Rock and ride — till the last goodbye.
And you’ll know who’s real when the engines die.
He’s seen the edge and he’s kissed the fall.
Watched good men fade behind the wall.
But when the music hits and the tires scream…
He remembers every outlaw dream.
They don’t cry — they burn and bend.
But they’ll bleed for a brother to the bitter end.
They don’t ask why — they just roll.
Gasoline hearts and rock and roll.
If you’ve got a brother at your side…
You don’t need a map for the ride.
Rock and ride — through the fire and the rain.
Through the breakdown, the bruises, the pain.
Rock and ride — with your boots on the line.
Every chord, every curve, every sign.
Rock and ride — when the world says no.
You throttle up and let it go.
Rock and ride — till the last goodbye.
And you’ll know who’s real when the engines die.
He’s older now but the fire’s still lit.
The road still calls and he won’t quit.
He sees his brother fighting for breath.
And it hits harder than love or death.
So he rides slower, but he rides true.
Because that’s what real brothers do.
Being a brother ain’t just blood and name.
It’s showing up when life’s a flame.
It’s the silence shared when words won’t land.
It’s the grip of a calloused hand.
It’s knowing you’d trade your pride and ride…
Just to keep your brother alive.
Rock and ride — through the fire and the rain.
Through the breakdown, the bruises, the pain.
Rock and ride — with your boots on the line.
Every chord, every curve, every sign.
Rock and ride — when the world says no.
You throttle up and let it go.
Rock and ride — till the last goodbye.
And you’ll know who’s real ....when the engines die.
Rock and ride....Rock and ride...Rock and ride

All rights reserved by songwriter and producer Edwin H. Balder.
For more ride-and-rock tracks, click here: https://soundcloud.com/edwin-balder/sets/rusty-marshall-band?si=c5040230a7334213b5d7609527997d7c&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing


Ride and Rock Rusty Marshall Band

A fractured manifesto set to hard rock, machine pulse, and cinematic dread.

Coterie of Cretins is a broadcast from the fault line where humanity and technology intersect — not in harmony, but in discomfort, suspicion, and reluctant dependence. These songs live inside the fluorescent hum of a world where every device pretends to listen, every choice feels rehearsed, and every person is half algorithm whether they admit it or not.

Across twelve tracks, the album follows the last free thinkers, doubters, Luddites-for-likes, and digital ghosts as they move between locked doors, broken signals, and too-perfect faces. Some fight back. Some give in. Some just scroll until the scrolling stops.

The sound is heavy, resonant, metallic, industrial at its core but driven by human lungs and human fear. Guitars grind against synths. Drums slam against circuitry. Voices remain the last unprocessed instrument — desperate, stubborn, hopeful, furious.

This is not an album about technology.
It’s an album about living through it.

Coterie of Cretins asks one question repeatedly:

If this is the future, is there anywhere left to stand that’s still ours?

Line of Site

Sawdust

Leave The Bourbon On The Shelf

Pre-save "Rebel Diamonds", coming December 8th, here: https://TheKillers.lnk.to/RebelDiamondsPS

Leave The Bourbon On The Shelf

The Killers