Buckaroo music is modern, Buckaroo music is classic, and Buckaroo music is rock! Highlighted by eagle-taloned hooks, three part harmonies, and superbly crafted songwriting, Buckaroo offer a wide appeal and longevity factor few acts match.


Formed in May 2006, Buckaroo is the brainchild of songwriter Randall Leddy, former bassist and co-songwriter for Washington D.C.'s disbanded Liquid Solid. With the addition of former Gum frontman Pat Hamm, composer and engineer Barton Grantham, and award-winning drummer/percussionist Rich Stein (Lauryn Hill, Aine Minogue, Peter Stolzmann...), Buckaroo offer a talent-heavy lineup and true uniquness. Buckaroo's sound has drawn comparisons to an array of acts both modern and classic from Queen to Queens of the Stoneage. Combining complex vocal arrangements with fresh, chugging guitar-driven music, Buckaroo's repertoire offers broad listenability and smart songwriting that stands alone in today's "indie" music scene. "Indie" is the word here, though, as Buckaroo are an all-encompassing rock force who self-produce everything from their recordings to artwork and promo materials. Buckaroo - as free as a winged great ape. In Hoc Signo Contortus!



Written By: Randall Leddy

At the racetrack victory is mine

My car, my automobile
I'm behind the wheel
Carbon fiber, steel, yeah

At the racetrack victory is mine

Spin in grass
Flying glass

The walls come up so goddamn fast
The walls come up so goddamn fast, yeah

At the racetrack victory is mine

More I Want

Written By: Randall Leddy

Motor mouth, oil breath
Went out on a date with the angel of death
We put it all together and let it fall apart
Got a rusty time-bomb to use as a heart, darling

The more I want of this the less I know I can take
The More I do of this the less I seem to relate

She's first in line, she's so damn hot
He'll buy everything to sell all he's got
She got herself a doctor, she got herself some tits
He got himself a sports-car to use as a dick, darling

Waiting and wanting and wanting for waiting

No Money

Written By: Randall Leddy

Take a notion, make a motion
Something on the inside's broken
Shake it around and hear the rattle
Feel too skinny, look too wimpy
Haven't earned a thing worth stealing
We always make our moves tomorrow, yeah

'Cause we're all made of leather and the words come out all wrong
By the time we get started it's time to go home, yeah

No Money (what a curse)
Broke but I guess it could be worse

Get the feeling I've hit the ceiling
Busted chops and shady dealings
The pool we drink from is so shallow, yeah

Got a dime, can you spot me a twenty?
I'll hit you back really soon
By the time we get started there's nothing to do, yeah

No Money (what a curse)
No Money ( what a curse)
No Money, broke but I guess it could be worse


Racetrack EP - 2007
Produced and engineered by Buckaroo

No pitch-correction software of any kind was used on these recordings.

Set List

30 min. to an hour - Originals

Looks Like Murder
More I Want
Believe In This
Look Who She's Going Home With
Blue Collar Hero
Not So Tough
Graciously Retarded
I Disappear
We Get It Done
Take Me Up
No Money