• Reviews

• All
• Music
• DVDs
• Live
• Cinema
• TV
• Books
• Comic Books
• Video Games

Feb 19, 2025 Web Exclusive By Frank Valish

At the tail of the ’90s, Buckcherry came roaring out of California, breathing life into an old rock and roll formula, resurrecting the spirit of Guns N’ Roses while interjecting just enough danger and sleaze to get people talking. By 2002, after a lackluster second album, the band had broken up, with singer Josh Todd auditioning to reprise the Axl Rose’s role in Slash’s new band, Velvet Revolver. Of course, that didn’t come to pass, Slash ultimately going with Scott Weiland and the rest being history. But sneakily, Todd reunited with his old Buckcherry guitarist, Keith Nelson, and with a few new players, went back into the studio. The result is what may be Buckcherry’s high water mark, the furious 15.

Here, for the first time on vinyl and for the album’s 20th anniversary, 15 has been reissued, with a second LP of bonus content, giving us the opportunity to revisit this complicated, vibrant rock and roll album.

First and foremost, 15 is an album that demands to be cranked up. Seldom since the heyday of ’80s rock and heavy metal has an album captured an attitude of rebellion without bastardizing itself and the genre in the process, sounding like an inadvertent lampooning of a silly bygone time, or simply succumbing to been-there-done-that boredom. But 15 manages to do the former and avoid all of the latter. The opening twosome mines traditional topes of pursuing riches and fame in the rock and roll life (“So Far”) and begging a woman for her time (and body) (“Next 2 You”) in a pair of succinct, power punches. Track 3, “Out of Line,” is heaviness buttressed by a sexy, soulful guitar line, and “Everything” is perfect unadulterated hefty power pop, complete with key change in the last chorus to up the ante. Then, just as instantly as the first four tracks whipped things up into a frenzy, the band settles into “Carousel” and “Sorry,” power ballads that any Sunset Strip band from decades prior would die for.

But this is where the complicated part of 15’s legacy emerges. The debut single from the album doesn’t come until track 7, a song seemingly buried deep within an album that already asserted itself as objectively great. Yet it was the first song the public was subjected to upon the band’s return from its dismal sophomore album and years-long hiatus. “Crazy Bitch” is a song so objectifying, so sexually overt and borderline vile, absent of subtlety, innuendo, or touch, that it almost doesn’t fit. At the time, one was tempted to assume that Buckcherry had become a pornography band now, if there were such a thing. But astonishingly to any discerning ears, the song became huge, propelling the band to a whole new career arc that lasts to this day. It’s almost inexplicable. [Yet, it should be noted that this very reviewer had occasion to witness what was probably the most beautiful girl he has ever seen chant the lyrics back to the band live in a glorious frenzy shortly after the album’s release. So, for whatever music reviewer prudishness might be present here, evidently Buckcherry was onto something.]

For this reviewer, however, “Crazy Bitch” nearly taints all that came before it and almost obscures anything relevant to come after. The driving “Onset,” the singalong “Sunshine,” the bluesy “Brooklyn” (which benefits from a least a smidge of the subtlety “Crazy Bitch” lacks), and the furious “Broken Glass” follow it to the album’s end, a worthy foursome to conclude an ultimately worthy album.

The second LP of this reissued anniversary set features acoustic (and one electric) versions of album tunes, as well as a cover song and an outtake. Interestingly, unlike what one might expect, these versions are not throwaways. The acoustic version of “Sorry” is slowed down. The version of “Crazy Bitch” has a lilting island feel, which is intriguing yet fairly disconcerting. “Onset” is imbued with a weird ethereal texture. And “Sunshine” is a bouncy, jubilant party. The outtake “Back in the Day” is hooky but pales in comparison to the tracks on the album proper. And a cover of Elvis Costello’s “Pump It Up” is unnecessary at best and an abomination at worst, but it’s certainly not boring.

With or without these extras, 15 is the definitive Buckcherry album, synthesizing everything the band has stood for into one addictive 11-song set. For my money, just skip “Crazy Bitch” and it becomes a rock and roll album to rival the best since the ’80s. Of course, the irony is that without it, 15 may very well have sunk like a stone. (www.realgonemusic.com)

Author rating: 7.5/10