There is a specific kind of madness that comes with a New Year’s Eve gig in Grand Bend. You have the biting wind coming off Lake Huron, the smell of damp pine and the looming threat of a snow squall that could bury a tour bus in minutes. But inside the giant heated tent at Gables In The Bend, the atmosphere for the 2-In-Tents New Years Eve Bash is a different kind of animal. It is a collision of Canadian rock royalty and California sleaze.
Buckcherry is the anchor here. They are the band that should have died a dozen times over but somehow keeps getting louder. They are sharing a bill with Our Lady Peace, The Sam Roberts Band, Eric Ethridge, Honeymoon Suite and Monster Truck. It is a strange, eclectic mix of radio-friendly hooks and heavy riffs. For Buckcherry, it is the victory lap of a year that saw them reclaim their territory with their eighth studio album, *Warpaint*, and a single, "Bent", that proved they still know how to write a hook that sticks in your throat.
I caught up with Josh Todd while he was still soaking in the L.A. sun before heading north into the Canadian cold. He sounds like a man who has survived the trenches and actually enjoyed the view. The band has been on a relentless pace, the kind that breaks lesser musicians.
"Everything’s good. I’m in L.A. right now, where I live. We’ve got a few shows left before the end of the year. It’s been a crazy year though, with the 'Warpaint' record. We’ve done about 140 shows this year, so it was quite a ride," Todd says.
The math on that is brutal. That is nearly a show every two days for a full calendar year. In an era where streaming has gutted the traditional revenue streams, Buckcherry has leaned into the only thing that still pays: the road. They are a blue-collar rock band disguised in tattoos and leather.
*Warpaint* is not just another record in the bin. It is a marker. It arrived two decades after their self-titled debut hit the shelves in 1999, an era when rock was being swallowed whole by nu-metal and rap-rock. Buckcherry was the outlier then, and they are the outlier now.
"Yeah, it marks 20 years in the game for us, our first record was in ‘99 and we worked really hard on it. It had been three years since our last record and spent a lot of time on the songwriting and it really paid off, I feel like it’s one of our best and we’re having so much fun playing these songs live," Todd says.
The title *Warpaint* feels aggressive, but there is a nuance to it that Todd is quick to point out. It is about the masks we wear and the battles we pick. The album art features a face that defies easy categorization, a visual representation of the band’s own refusal to fit into a neat little box.
"I love one-word titles. I think it’s big and bold, and you also want something that you can work with. You can tie in artwork and that’s always something that’s on our mind. 'Warpaint' was an actual song before it was the title of the record and we just kept coming back to it. We threw around a few names and I just thought we could do some really cool imagery and that’s what we did on the cover, with the girl actually, it’s kind of like a unisex face, you don’t know if it’s a girl or a boy and they have warpaint on their face and people use warpaint for all kinds of things, to celebrate life, to mark periods of time in their life and also to go to war, to go to battle and for victories. So it’s very symbolic for us," Todd says.
Most bands at the 20-year mark start digging through the "rejects" pile for new albums. They take half-finished ideas from 2005 and try to polish them up. But Todd is a purist when it comes to the creative cycle. He wants the friction of a new idea.
"No, we like to start fresh when we start songwriting cycles because I feel like I’m always growing as a human and growing as a songwriter and I like to create something from nothing all the time, it’s very exciting for me. I’m that guy, I love puzzles and I love to create stuff from the ground up because it’s just more interesting for me. So we started with nothing, we wrote over 30 songs for an 11 song record and it really paid off," Todd says.
The standout surprise on the record is a cover of Nine Inch Nails’ "Head Like A Hole". It is a ballsy move. Covering Trent Reznor is usually a recipe for disaster because his sound is so tied to a specific industrial bleakness. But Buckcherry strips away the machines and replaces them with pure, unadulterated swagger.
"I was always a fan of the 'Pretty Hate Machine' record and when Nine Inch Nails dropped their first record I thought it was unique and original and I like Trent because he’s really stuck to his guns his whole career, he’s been on his own planet and that’s cool. And for me to do a cover song, I’ve got to be invested in the lyrics because I write all my lyrics and I love the lyrics of that song and it’s got to be in my vocal wheelhouse and that was as well. So we did it as an experiment, we were all set up to start tracking to record 'Warpaint' and I said, hey, I got this song, we should try and see if we can kind of make it our own," Todd says.
The recording of that track was one of those happy accidents that only happens when the red light is on and the band is just playing for themselves. It was not a calculated radio play; it was a jam session that caught fire.
"And we started jamming it and we didn’t know our producer was recording us at the time, and he threw up a rough mix of it and he goes, 'Hey, you guys, you’ve got to hear this, come in here.' And we’re like, what? And we went in there and we were listening to it back and wow, this sounds great, it sounds like a Buckcherry song, and that’s always the goal. It’s always boring to me when a rock band covers an old rock song, I just don’t understand that. We like to take songs that are out of our genre and kind of make it our own and we did that with 'Say Fuck It' on the 'Fuck' record and a lot of songs actually, and we did it with 'Head Like A Hole'," Todd says.
And then there is "Jungle Love". If you bought the imported version of the record, you get a dose of Prince-era funk. It is a reminder that Todd and guitarist Stevie D. are not just students of Aerosmith and AC/DC. They have a deep, abiding love for the Minneapolis sound.
I grew up on really aggressive punk rock records, independent records. Those records were super honest, they didn’t have major labels taming them down or telling them what to say or do, so it was really important for me... I always vowed that I would be true to myself and my art, no matter what.
"(Josh Laughs) Steve and I are just huge fans of all those Prince era bands and The Time was one of them and we like to get funky. It was a fun song to do and we sat around, I don’t think everybody was as into it as we were until we were looking for songs for bonus tracks and everybody thought that was a good one," Todd says.
The sonic architecture of *Warpaint* feels familiar, and that is likely because Mike Plotnikoff is back behind the board. He was the man responsible for the sound of *15*, the album that resurrected the band in 2005 with "Crazy Bitch" and "Sorry". Bringing him back was a move toward stability and high-fidelity grit.
"Well, we wanted to use him again after '15' but the politics of the band didn’t lend that to happen, so it was just the right time and I wanted to have fun making a record again and he’s just a lovely guy and he’s done so many great records and we wanted that sonic value that we had with '15' and he brought it. It was as if we had just done a record with him, when we got back with him, it was just fun, and like I said, we get along really well and it was a good time," Todd says.
There is a distinct difference when a band stops trying to produce themselves. The internal echo chamber can be dangerous. You need an outside ear to tell you when a bridge is too long or a chorus is too weak.
"Well, the last records were always co-produced with Keith and another producer, and we wanted to get away from that. And so it was good to have somebody that wasn’t in the band producing the record, I think that’s really important, and I don’t think I’ll ever go back to the other way around," Todd says.
The lineup has shifted, too. The departure of founding guitarist Keith Nelson could have been a death blow, but Todd has filled the ranks with musicians who have a shared history in the L.A. scene. It feels less like a hired-gun situation and more like a brotherhood.
"Yeah, it’s the best musicians we’ve had in the band since the birth and just great guys. We just added two new guys, Francis on drums, Francis Ruiz and Kevin Roentgen on the guitar. And Kevin is just a really accomplished musician, he’s a great singer, great songwriter, he also produces as well. We’ve known him since we were young, since I moved to L.A. when I was 19. And even Francis, he was kicking around in the hood at that time and that’s when I met Kelly as well. So to be all together in one band is really, really fun for us, we get along really well," Todd says.
Looking back at 20 years, Todd is realistic about their place in history. They were never the darlings of the critics. They were never the band that the industry wanted to champion. They were too rock for the pop kids and too sleazy for the indie crowd.
"It means a lot, it’s hard to have longevity in this game, especially the rock game, especially now. And when we came out, it was all rap rock wave of bands. So we’ve always been this black sheep of rock and roll, and to survive 20 years in that climate is something to say. We’re proud of it, and we have great fans, loyal fans that continue to come see us play and we’re always going to show up for that as long as it’s there," Todd says.
The turnover in the band is often a point of contention for fans, but Todd views it as a natural byproduct of the lifestyle. The road is not a vacation; it is a grind that breaks spirits and marriages alike.
"I would have liked to have not had so many different band members, but there’s nothing you can do. What a lot of people don’t know about Buckcherry is that we’ve only actually fired two guys, everybody else left on their own free will. So that’s not something I thought was going to happen, but I also didn’t know what the road and touring. We’ve toured a lot, we put in a lot of shows, and it really wears people out and the road is a challenging place. So, that being said, I was the youngest guy in the band and started the band from the ground up, so as long as I’m around, it’s going to happen," Todd says.
There is no big anniversary gala planned. No "An Evening With" tour where they play the first record in its entirety. For Todd, the celebration is the work itself.
"Going out there and playing in front of people with a new record is pretty much what we’re doing for our 20 years. But, anything special? No, not really, not aside from what we usually do," Todd says.
He still carries the memories of those early sessions with him. The first record was a masterclass in rock pedigree, even if he did not fully realize it at the time. Standing in a room with a Sex Pistol is enough to leave an impression on any kid.
"Everything was new, so it was a lot of fun. But I think what I remember the most was Steve Jones was co-producing it, he’s the guitar player from the Sex Pistols, and so that was really amazing. Terry Date was co-producing it with him, and Terry Date has done 'Badmotorfinger' to name one record. He’s done a lot of great records. And I actually sang all my vocal tracks standing right next to him and Steve Jones was laying on a couch right behind me, so that was really memorable and something I’ll never forget," Todd says.
The Todd of 1999 was a different singer. He was raw energy and jagged edges. Today, he has more control, more range and a better understanding of how to protect the instrument that pays the bills.
"Totally. I’ve grown so much vocally and as a songwriter I would’ve done that whole record differently, but then it wouldn’t have the charm that it has, and you’ve got to capture who you are along the way, and I see that guy as really an unpolished, angsty young kid that was just doing his best to write the best songs he could. And I didn’t know a lot about songwriting at that point, but I had written a lot of songs, but not the traditional way," Todd says.
That sound—that mix of punk aggression and classic rock melody—was not a corporate calculation. It was the result of Todd’s upbringing in the Orange County punk scene meeting the classic rock influences of his bandmates.
"It was just the combination of who I was and my background. I grew up in Orange County, California and I grew up on really aggressive punk rock records, independent records. Those records were super honest, they didn’t have major labels taming them down or telling them what to say or do, so it was really important for me because I was going through a lot as a kid and I really connected with those records and I always vowed that I would be true to myself and my art, no matter what. If it serves me or if it doesn’t serve me, and that’s happened with Buckcherry, we’ve had a lot of peaks and valleys, and I think my background coupled with when I met up with Keith, at the time, and how we put songs together, he had a different type of rock background and it just made for a unique pairing," Todd says.
Being the "black sheep" has its drawbacks, specifically when it comes to festival slots or industry accolades. But it also creates a brand that is unmistakable. You know a Buckcherry song within the first four bars.
"Oh, of course. It also served us for opportunities because we’re different than everybody else. That’s a weird thing, when you hear Buckcherry, you know its Buckcherry, and that’s a good thing and it’s a bad thing. But we found our niche, we found our audience and that’s what’s important and we’ve been doing it, like I said, for 20 years," Todd says.
The tattoos are as much a part of the brand as the music. They are the physical history of the band’s journey. But even Todd has his limits when it comes to the needle.
"No, not really. I just got some stuff covered up and touched up on my abdomen and that’s it. I think I’m going to stop getting tattoos here for awhile. I don’t like it, I don’t enjoy it," Todd says.
There are specific pieces, however, that carry weight. The BC lightning bolt is the badge of their success, a permanent reminder of the moment they actually made it.
"Yeah, we all got them when we went platinum and that was a big deal for us, and so that marks a really good milestone. And probably my back piece, the suicide king of hearts is really near and dear to me as well, so I worked hard to earn that one," Todd says.
As we wrap up, the focus shifts back to Grand Bend. New Year’s Eve is a night for excess, and Buckcherry is the perfect soundtrack for that. Canada has always been a stronghold for the band, a place where the audiences are a little louder and the nights are a little longer.
"Yeah, it’s always fun bringing in the new year, of course. Everybody’s in a festive mode and its crazy, its bananas, and we love that. We love coming to Canada and they raise hell and love Buckcherry for the right reasons," Todd says.
He is right. They do. And as the clock strikes midnight in that giant tent, with the lake wind howling outside, Buckcherry will be right where they belong: in the middle of the noise.
