Brian Fallon – Not Bad for New Jersey ★★★½☆

There are very few people who have given more to this corner of punk rock than Brian Fallon. He is one of the scene’s great stalwarts and, depending on who you ask, possibly number one. From Sink or Swim and The ’59 Sound through The Horrible Crowes, and his increasingly varied solo work, Fallon has spent nearly two decades writing the songs against which everyone else in this genre is measured.

He has also never been afraid to record exactly what he wants. Whether stripping everything back on Local Honey, exploring hymns and spirituals on Night Divine, or dragging The Gaslight Anthem somewhere darker on Get Hurt, Fallon has consistently resisted the temptation to simply rewrite The ’59 Sound. Even when those experiments have divided listeners, the intention has always been admirable, keep moving, keep searching and never become a tribute act to your younger self.

That instinct remains very much alive on Not Bad for New Jersey. Reunited with producer Butch Walker, Fallon surrounds himself with some serious heavy hitters. Brandon Flowers, Lori McKenna, Donovan Woods, Phil Collen and Marc Ribot all appear across the album’s 11 tracks. Much of the record was captured live with Walker and drummer Eric Slick, while Fallon’s collaboration with Flowers, “Love at the End of the World,” deliberately abandons a traditional chorus in favor of a less conventional structure.

Upon first listen, however, the record doesn't quite land like previous Fallon records.

That does not mean the album lacks standout moments. The opening title track arrives with the kind of battered optimism Fallon has always worn so well, turning survival and New Jersey pride into something ragged, defiant and deeply resonant. “Better Before” has a polished ’80s-rock immediacy, while “Pearls” carries the warmth and melancholy that have long been central to Fallon’s best writing.

“Nobody Likes You in NYC,” is one of the album’s most compelling narrative swings. “On Good Terms,” featuring Lori McKenna, brings two exceptional songwriters together, and “Wolf by the River” benefits from Marc Ribot’s unmistakably unruly guitar work. Even when the songs do not land with the force of Fallon’s greatest material, there is plenty here worth returning to.

The difficulty is that Brian Fallon may have made excellence seem too ordinary.

At times, the lyrics feel familiar because Fallon established so much of this language himself, fading love, hard-earned survival, romantic geography, bruised outsiders and the persistent belief that redemption is out there. What might sound formulaic in lesser hands is, in many ways, simply Fallon returning to the emotional territory he knows better than almost anyone (apart from Springsteen and Petty.)

Musically, the record is more adventurous than its familiar themes initially suggest. There is power pop, Americana, polished ’80s rock and a handful of unusual structural choices. These experiments do not always produce an immediate emotional payoff, but they show an artist who is still curious. After this many records, Fallon is still willing to push at the edges of his own sound rather than retreat into nostalgia. That deserves recognition.

There are songs here that could have lived comfortably on Local Honey. Other moments recall the nocturnal atmosphere of Elsie by The Horrible Crowes. What the record lacks, at least initially, is a song that demands a place beside the best Fallon's solo work. Painkillers and Sleepwalkers contained songs that seemed to arrive fully inhabited, with characters, landscapes and emotional stakes that remained long after the record stopped spinning.

But is it entirely fair to keep asking Fallon to compete with his own greatest work?

That is the impossible position he now occupies. We know what it sounds like when one of his songs cracks something open inside us. We know how it feels when one of his choruses becomes part of our own history. When a new record offers craft, ambition and several genuinely strong songs without delivering that same immediate emotional blow, it can feel slighter than it really is.

Perhaps Fallon has simply written too many great albums. A good Brian Fallon record can seem disappointing because we have heard him be transcendent. Judged against almost anyone else working in this world, Not Bad for New Jersey is an accomplished, thoughtful and impressively varied collection. Judged against Painkillers, Elsie or the best of The Gaslight Anthem, it falls slightly short.

There is also every possibility that this is a slow-burning album. Fallon’s quieter and more adventurous records have often revealed themselves over time. Songs initially overshadowed by expectation find their place months later, after the comparisons and first-listen demands have faded. Not Bad for New Jersey feels like a record that may reward that patience.

It is not a career-defining Brian Fallon album, but very few records could be. It is the sound of one of the scene’s finest songwriters remaining restless, taking chances and continuing to search for new ways to tell stories he has spent a lifetime refining.

Not bad for New Jersey? It is considerably better than that. It just happens to have been made by someone who taught us to expect the unforgettable.

3.5 out of 5 stars