SAN FRANCISCO -- Singer Joshua Todd doesn't say much onstage, but

then his band, Buckcherry, is not about talk.

It's about attitude.

Heavily tattooed and sporting low-slung camouflage pants, Todd made

immediate contact with the audience as he greeted a packed crowd at the

compact Bottom of the Hill club in San Francisco. As the show went on,

he liberally punctuated his lyrics with shouts of "Oh yeah!" and "San

Francisco!" and "C'mon, yeah!"

The crowd responded in kind.

"This sound is the future of rock," Oakland resident Tom Daniels, 25,

said. "These guys are going to be huge. They're like Zeke or the Murder

City Devils, but not as heavy."

The huge, shiny tour bus parked outside the club Friday night gave the

first clue that Buckcherry are going somewhere. The Los Angeles,

quasi-hard-rock glam band -- think Black Crowes meeting Aerosmith

at Jon Bon Jovi's house -- is crossing the States behind the April release

of its self-titled debut album. The quintet is gaining popularity

faster than you can say "major label push."

Buckcherry's reputation as the next big thing precedes them; it's fueled

by a loud buzz and what would seem to be some serious promotional dollars.

Their album, co-produced by Steve Jones (formerly of the Sex Pistols),

is on the nascent "power label," DreamWorks Records.

At Bottom of the Hill, after warm-ups by local favorites Hammerlock and

Me First, Buckcherry took the stage in front of an amped-up crowd.

Following the obligatory "one-two-three" drumstick clicks, the band

launched a full-scale aural assault.

Dual Les Paul-slinging guitarists Keith Nelson and

Yogi, along with bassist Jonathan Brightman and drummer DeVon

Glenn, filled the small club with arena-rock noise. The coiffed and

glammed Yogi stalked around behind an impressive bank of effects pedals,

relying heavily on the wah-wah pedal to distort his brief three-chord

riffs.

Attempting to resuscitate a sound that melds '70s glitter rock and the

self-seriousness of '80s metal, Buckcherry are tapping into a vein of

both revisionist nostalgia and mindless rocking fun.

Each song sounded as though it could be a cover: Isn't that a Kiss song?

Wait, that sounds like Guns n' Roses. Was that a Zeppelin riff? The band

has lifted its sound liberally from the work of many who came before,

each song sounding as if it had been carefully constructed from bits and

pieces just tiny enough to keep them from being sued.

Songs such as

music/Buckcherry/Lit_Up.ram">"Lit Up" (RealAudio excerpt)

("Oh yeah/ You wanna find it/ I'm on a plane with cocaine/ And yes I'm

all lit up again") and "Dirty

Mind" (RealAudio excerpt) ("I saw your old lady in a porno mag/

In a porno mag/ Yeah") were paeans to the requisite rough and dangerous

lifestyle, complete with heavy guitar hooks and pummeling drums.

In contrast to these hard-edged screamers were slower, more sensitive

ballads, such as

music/Buckcherry/Check_Your_Head.ram">"Check Your Head"

(RealAudio excerpt), a song about losing friends too young ("I dressed

in black today/ It represents this phase I'm in").

Todd worked the stage, sweating and grinding and beating a tambourine

now and then. His banter to the crowd was expletive-laden but sounded

sincerely happy. All five men seemed to be having the time of their lives,

striking poses and making I'm-rocking-out faces without a trace of irony.

Many in the crowd sang along through the 50-minute set, pounding their

fists in the air, or jumping in place as best they could. Derivative or

not, it was clearly a sound these people wanted to hear.

"You guys f---kin' rock!" shrieked someone from the back of the room.

"No, you guys f---kin' rock," a sweat-drenched Todd responded solemnly.

A few naysayers back by the pool tables remained unconvinced.

"Who are these people? Is this a joke?" fretted San Francisco resident

James Killen, 35, who wore a Zeke T-shirt. "These guys are so L.A. they

might as well have Aaron Spelling on that bus with them. This isn't what

I was expecting."