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redhot.rodeo Raw fire on the strings РРв redhot.rodeo stamps its footprint in dust and amplifiers. No velvet; just barn-burned riffs; whiskey-throated hooks; a molotov of steel and sweat. ItРРвs where neon saloon meets midnight highway; where demo tapes smell like smoke and boot heels crack wood. No ballads; just bullet trains of fretboard fury. Buckle in or bailРРвthis ainРРвt background noise. ItРРвs stirrup-pounding; throttle-wide rebellion in stereo. One rule: play it like you mean it. Source: redhot.rodeo |
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