Arriving in the late ’90s during the dying days of dour post-grunge and the rise of aggro nu-metal, Buckcherry proudly kept the torch of hard rock sleaze burning. The band styled themselves as deliberate throwbacks to the glory days of the ’80s Sunset Strip, acting as if their peers were instead of . For a while, this defiance of contemporary rock norms was wildly successful for the band. Their eponymous 1999 debut generated the number one mainstream rock hit “Lit Up,” which was enough to keep the band afloat until they had an unexpected hit in 2006 with their third album, 15. Boasting the sordid rocker “Crazy Bitch” and “Sorry” (a power ballad that cracked the Top Ten), the album was certified platinum, a success that buoyed the band for two decades and numerous lineup changes, always anchored by singer Josh Todd.

Buckcherry formed in mid-1995, when Todd and guitarist Keith Nelson were introduced through a mutual tattoo artist. After cutting several demos, the duo recruited a rhythm section (bassist Jonathan “J.B.” Brightman plus drummer Devon Glenn) and began performing live, quickly earning a local fan base for their swaggering, grunge-flavored music. Following the subsequent addition of second guitarist Yogi Lonich, Buckcherry signed with and issued their self-titled debut LP in 1999. Singles such as “Check Your Head” and “For the Movies” were modern rock hits, raising Buckcherry’s profile by the summer of 2000.

“Patience is a virtue.” Those words are tattooed across Coleman Williams’ right arm, forever reminding the alternative-country singer/songwriter of the benefits of taking one’s time.

The lesson wasn’t always so clear. As the great-grandson of Hank Williams Sr., grandson of Hank Williams Jr., and only son of Hank 3, Coleman spent years waging an internal battle with the expectations thrust upon him by his own lineage. He represented the fourth generation of country music’s most legendary family — hence his nickname, “IV” — and the pressure to launch his own career was enormous. Although Coleman would eventually make his mark with Southern Circus — the genre-bending debut from his band, IV and the Strange Band, combining southern storytelling and country textures with 100-watt guitar amps and DIY attitude — he needed to break free first and discover his own musical approach along the way.

“Before I even knew who I was, people were already expecting things of me,” he says. “It felt like there was zero freedom of expression for someone with the last name ‘Williams.’ Singing about a bloodline didn’t appeal to me, though. I wasn’t interested in fitting into a shadow that already existed. What did appeal to me was the underground scene in Nashville.”