Front-man Mike Herrera describes his latest venture, Tumbledown, as “different than a country band, different than a punk rock band, different than a rockabilly band—we’re somewhere there in the ether, somewhere between it all.”

The punk twist Herrera invokes and borrows from his ongoing membership in renowned 1990s punk rock band MXPX. Whereas the latter famously railed against “Responsibility,” Tumbledown boisterously crusades against sobriety, wearing their whiskey induced acid reflux on their sleeves.

“Empty Bottle” is a straightforward, no-thrills vignette of the band’s bittersweet relationship with alcohol. It’s a trite theme to flesh-out, and as concept albums go, its shallow fixation on substances over substance makes Bruce Springsteen’s 2002 dirge “The Rising” (a concept album encapsulating the aftermath of September 11th) all that more appreciated.

To rival Springsteen’s social consciousness or Bob Dylan’s arcane poetry is not Tumbledown’s aim, which is evident. Instead, “Empty Bottle” caters to the grizzled, hard-living roadhouse crowd that cannot pay their rent but always tips their bartender handsomely.

The upbeat and jaunty “Places in this Town” is a promising opening track with an inviting chorus that evokes a Jagermeister-charged mimic of “Banditos” by The Refreshments (of King of the Hill fame). “Meet the Devil” mines vintage Herrera with its tempered, yet unmistakable punk rock tone that will satiate the appetite of MXPX fans eager for a common thread; predictably, this is the one track where Herrera’s immutably punk seasoned voice feels at home.

Whether by default or design, the rollicking first half of “Empty Bottle” connotes the carefree exuberance of a bender’s first phase–almost making one forgive the lack of dimension and imagination in Herrera’s lyrics.

Despite writing about booze with the zealous preoccupation that Eric Clapton wrote “Layla” for George Harrison’s wife, Herrera’s rambunctious opening ensemble—the aforementioned “Places,” and “Meet the Devil,” coupled with the title track “Empty Bottle,” “Arrested in El Paso Blues” and “Great Big World”—nearly distracts from the album’s obvious flaws.

The second half mellows considerably, creeping like drool out the side of a drunken bum’s mouth. As if under a black light, Herrera’s lyrics lay exposed on the second part of the album. These same lyrics are the ones, which remained hidden on the initial excitement of the first half. What at times sounds perfectly suited for a remote Texas roadhouse replete with pugnacious bikers, outlaws, and rednecks, ultimately amounts to a stale and mediocre re-hash of well-worn country themes with an ineffective punk chaser.