There’s something about a Tuesday night that makes rock and roll feel even grittier. It’s not the weekend crowd, not the casual “let’s grab a drink and see a band” energy. Tuesday shows attract the true believers, the ones who still crave that rush of live amps and sweat-slick guitars no matter what day’s printed on the calendar. And Leesburg’s Tally Ho Theater has quietly become one of those spots where the faithful gather. Earlier, Nashville Pussy scorched the same stage, leaving it still warm for Buckcherry to waltz in and turn the place into a fire hazard.
Buckcherry, for better or worse, are lifers. They’re the kind of band that doesn’t just perform rock; they exhale it. Josh Todd doesn’t so much front the band as he stalks through it, restless, wiry, like a guy who’s perpetually halfway between a confession and a bar fight. The band’s been at it for nearly three decades now, but the second they tore into “Lit Up” opened the set like it was still 1999 and the world hadn’t gone soft, it was clear nobody was coasting. At Tally Ho Theater on Oct. 7, the crowd surged forward like it was the first song they’d ever heard, beer sloshing, arms in the air. Leesburg isn’t a big city, but when the lights hit and those first notes rang out, it sure sounded like one.
“Roar Like Thunder” came next, an apt title if there ever was one. Stevie D.’s guitar tone had that greasy, jet-engine snarl to it, the kind that rattles the bones of the venue’s old walls. It wasn’t polished. It wasn’t meant to be. Buckcherry’s version of rock is all dirt and gasoline, and that’s exactly what people came for. The lighting crew leaned heavy on red and white strobes, pulsing in time with the riffs, giving the whole thing this whiplash effect that made the front row look like a slow-motion car crash.
Josh didn’t waste time talking between songs with just a few quick grins, a “how the fuck you doin’, Leesburg?,” and they were right into “So Hott.” The song’s swagger was undeniable. It’s a track that lives on lust and adrenaline, and Todd sold it like a late-night preacher. You could see the grin under his red shock of hair, that mix of sin and satisfaction that’s become his trademark.
Watch the official music video for “So Hott” by Buckcherry onYouTube:
The next few songs — “Porno Star,” “Ridin’,” and “Come On” — hit like a three-punch combo. Each one carried a little more grime, a little more muscle. “Porno Star” in particular had that nasty, playful groove that’s pure Buckcherry, sleazy without apology, fun without irony. It’s not pretending to be anything other than what it is: rock made for people who still want to feel something dirty and real.
Between songs, Josh finally slowed down just long enough to thank the crowd, pointing out that they’ve played Tally Ho a handful of times over the years and “it always feels like coming back to a bar full of friends you shouldn’t trust.” Everyone laughed, and then “I Love It” kicked in with this infectious rhythm that made even the security guards nod their heads.
Leesburg’s not known for chaos, but nights like this test the limits. There was that familiar scent of sweat and beer and just a hint of fog machine haze hanging in the air, and the sound was dialed perfectly, loud but not muddy, crisp enough to catch every sneer in Josh’s voice. Buckcherry shows don’t need much: a stage, some strobes, and a crowd that’s willing to get a little reckless. Tally Ho had all three.
Mid-set brought “Let It Burn” and “Dirty Mind,” two songs that could almost be mission statements for the band. Todd’s vocals were sharp and cutting, his delivery almost punk in its bite. Stevie D. and Billy Rowe traded licks like old street racers swapping stories, grinning at each other while the crowd shouted along.
By the time they hit “Everything,” it was clear this wasn’t just nostalgia because the newer material carried the same punch, the same sneer, but maybe with a little more self-awareness. Buckcherry has grown older, sure, but not softer. They still sound like a band that’s just barely keeping it together, and that tension is what makes them worth watching.
Watch the official music video for “Everything” by Buckcherry on YouTube:
It’s funny, there’s a kind of blue-collar poetry in their chaos. You can tell these guys have seen every dive bar and half-lit motel room on the circuit. They wear that mileage like a badge. That’s something younger bands sometimes miss: you can’t fake road grime.
Then came “Say Fuck It,” their twisted, tongue-in-cheek spin on Icona Pop’s “I Love It.” Live, it’s a riot. The crowd lost their minds. Middle fingers went up in unison, everyone shouting the chorus back like it was gospel. Buckcherry’s always known how to take the ridiculous and make it raw again.
But just when the air felt like it couldn’t get thicker, they flipped the mood with “Sorry.” That one’s always been a strange outlier in their catalog, it’s a little too sincere for a band that thrives on sweat and swagger, but Josh sold it. The crowd softened, couples leaned in closer, and for a moment the noise turned into something human.
“Gluttony” snapped everyone back upright, a reminder that this band’s version of spirituality involves volume and vice. Todd screamed, “I want it, I need it,” and you could feel the ground flex under the weight of a few hundred people jumping at once.
The homestretch of the night was pure adrenaline. “Tight Pants,” “Good Time,” and “Blackout” hit one after another, no breaks, no mercy. “Tight Pants” turned into a full-on celebration of absurdity and Josh strutted across the stage like a rock ‘n’ roll rooster, teasing the front row and laughing at himself. There’s something endearing about how unfiltered he is.
“Good Time” lived up to its name. It’s not subtle, not complex, but damned if it doesn’t hit the pleasure centers. That’s Buckcherry’s secret weapon: they don’t hide behind irony or cleverness. They just give you everything they’ve got, warts and all. Leesburg gave it right back.
By the time “Blackout” crashed through the PA, the lights flared and strobed so hard it was almost disorienting, but nobody cared. It’s the kind of moment that makes small venues magic. And then, inevitably, “Crazy Bitch.” The song’s practically its own genre at this point, it’s an anthem that’s outlived its own controversy, its own radio life, everything. Buckcherry turned it into a medley by slipping in “Bad Girl,” “Proud Mary,” and then looping back to “Crazy Bitch” like a sleazy victory lap. It was messy, loud, over the top, and absolutely perfect.
Watch the official music video for “Crazy Bitch” by Buckcherry on YouTube:
Josh didn’t sing so much as command. The band stretched it out, teasing the ending, dragging it through every possible breakdown and chant until the crowd was a single roaring voice. No encore needed. No fancy bow. Just five guys who still believe in the power of noise and nerve.
Between Nashville Pussy and Buckcherry, it was a hell of a run. Two bands that refuse to die quietly, each with their own brand of chaos. Maybe that’s the secret to rock ‘n’ roll’s survival, it’s not about reinvention, it’s about persistence. Showing up, plugging in, and meaning it.
Buckcherry still means it and on a Tuesday night in Virginia, that’s all anyone really needed.
Setlist:
1. Lit Up
2. Roar Like Thunder
3. So Hott
4. Porno Star
5. Ridin’
6. Come On
7. I Love It (Icona Pop cover)
8. Let It Burn
9. Dirty Mind
10. Everything
11. Say Fuck It
12. Sorry
13. Gluttony
14. Tight Pants
15. Good Time
16. Blackout
17. Crazy Bitch / Bad Girl / Proud Mary / Crazy Bitch
Here are some photos of Buckcherry performing live at Tally Ho Theater on Oct. 7, 2025. All pictures copyright and courtesy of Michael Sprouse/ Odd Rocker Photography.
