By Corey Krajewski
Opinion Editor
Brian Fallon’s first solo album “Painkiller’s delivers what fans have been waiting for. Dubbed “the punk rock Bruce Springsteen” nearly ten years ago as Brian Fallon’s career with the The Gaslight Anthem’s began, fans have been yearning for a Fallon solo effort.
Fallon does not disappoint.
The album is Fallon’s most complete effort in years, never venturing into any significant lulls like his last few albums. From its poppy and hopeful intro in “A Wonderful Life,” to the mysterious venturing of “Open All Night,” the album is remarkably sonically consistent in all measures.
Fallon has been criticized for his lyricism venturing into cliché territory. In his debut LP, it seems as if he has taken these critiques to heart, and it is noticeable how few mentions of blood or radios there are in the songs, compared to the last few The Gaslight Anthem records. Despite avoiding his traditional lyrical fallbacks, the lyrics are still the heart of his work and still represent Fallon’s distinct Americana filtered through punk eyes.
For an album with a lead single named “A Wonderful Life,” Fallon’s lyrics are surprisingly somber, coming from characters trapped in solitude. Most songs provide just enough hope to keep the work from being a complete downer, but the regret featured is a welcome change from the typical pop-rock cheeriness.
“Painkillers” shines brightest about 20 minutes in, when “Rosemary” starts. The song starts with the most Springsteen-esque moment on the album, a quick burst of drums and a guitar riff straight out of “Born to Run.” The song has a heroine right out of a Craig Finn song, one who is growing old in a punk scene staying the same age. She finds a new resolve in her tragedy though, and Fallon singing, “My name is Rosemary/yeah you’d be lucky to meet me,” defines a strength that only comes from being hurt.
Fallon’s work has always been nostalgic, nearly to a fault, but the nostalgia in “Painkillers” is cast in a shroud of remorse. “Long Drives” is haunted by a backing slide guitar that punctuates the lyrics about dreaming of a fleeting past love.
The album suffers most in two places. Fallon misses the brilliant guitar work of The Gaslight Anthem bandmate Alex Rosamilia in places, in some songs lacking a unique memorable melody. The album, produced by former Taylor Swift album producer Butch Walker, at times sounds a little too clean and overproduced for an artist like Fallon.
“Painkillers” is not the punk rock of early The Gaslight Anthem, nor is it the hard rock of their later period. It is not the folk rock of Molly and the Zombies or the blues rock of the Horrible Crowes. The album is something sonically distinct from all his prior works, yet still wholly Fallon.
krajewcj11@bonaventure.edu
