For forty years, NOFX built a career on refusing to behave the way anyone expected them to. They weren't the biggest band in punk, they weren't the most famous, and they were proudly never the most polished. But they were absolutely the punkest — if that's even a word. That alone makes their story worth telling.

What interested me most about NOFX wasn't the mythology of punk rock. It was the contradiction at the centre of the band. On stage they could be crude, offensive, self-destructive, and usually drunk — though always fucking hilarious. Off stage they quietly built one of the most successful independent music empires in the world, making songs that spoke to millions of people looking for something real.

This film isn't a tribute piece, and it isn't a takedown. It's something much messier. The band members don't always agree on what happened, and the truth of NOFX lives somewhere in those competing versions of events.

What fascinated me most was how memory works inside a band that has been together this long. Everyone remembers the same moments differently. Old grudges surface. Jokes turn into confessions. And the line between myth and reality gets blurry.

NOFX spent their entire career telling the world exactly what they thought — whether it was a good idea or not. So the only honest way to make this movie was to let them do the same thing here. No clean documentary bullshit. Just four people trying to explain forty years of friendship, success, resentment, and survival.

Four guys. Forty years. And absolutely no idea how it lasted this long.

— James Buddy Day, Director