The Gaslight Anthem is a four-piece band whose punk sound leads me to question what defines punk these days.

The band's drumbeats are slightly more frenetic and the guitar sounds are a bit stiffer than traditional rock. Last night at Turner Hall, lead singer Brian Fallon sported a black T-shirt and a full-sleeve tattoo and his scratchy, worn-out vocals recalled a bit too much growling and emphatic protesting mixed with too many nights of too much whiskey.

Is that where the punk comes from? Or maybe it's their unabashed, unironic love for Bruce Springsteen? I think back to my days as a high schooler and wonder if I'd have called it a punk show when I couldn't spot at least one dude in a ridiculous mohawk and didn't get a little sweaty in some kind of mosh pit. Then again the band's album was voted best of the year by hundreds of thousands of punknews.org members.

The Gaslight Anthem has more of a sense of melancholy than of revolution and it treads on the extremely blurry line between punk and rock. While the newest album is titled "The '59 Sound," the band's music dwells in a more recent history, mostly an ode to Bruce Springsteen, but competently combining '80s-style power ballads, the Jersey sound and a dash punk's trademark aggression.

This isn't necessarily a bad thing, considering some of the ridiculously whiny lows the genre has been slumming around lately.

The boys launched their set with several songs from their new album, including the spirited "Great Expectations" and one of my favorites, "High Lonesome." After chugging through a few more, Fallon started to open up to the audience.

"Do you like my shirt?" he asked of the Chicago White Sox logo emblazoned across his T-shirt. It was answered with a host of "boos." He laughed a little bit, nervously I'm sure, as the razzing refused to subside. He went on to explain that he had toured with bands who had team shirts appropriate for every city and that he just wasn't like that.

"Today just happened to be my Chicago shirt day," he explained, which was followed up with more booing. "Hey, at least it's not the Cubs," he defended. The audience shifted to laughter, but then back to booing again until the opening chords from the title track, "'59 Sound" were struck. The booing immediately converted to cheers.

After a few more songs he stopped again, confronting a girl about her birthday. Not to be left out, another cry came from the other side of the audience, "It's my birthday, too."

"Well, this one is for all the girls with birthdays" he called out and started into a cover of Tom Petty's "American Girl." As the set moved along the audience seemed to grow more receptive. People were moving and the band began to open up a bit more, having a little more fun, even splicing "Stand By Me" into one of its songs. At the end TGA, of course, returned for an encore giving its fans a healthy, four-song bonus.

I can see why so many people are falling in love with this band. Its songs are catchy and nostalgic. It's a coming of age sound that embodies the struggles of the underdog just trying to do right and live life, something I'm sure many of us are feeling these days.

Openers Good Old War further added to the confusion of what qualifies as punk by playing simple and sweet harmonious acoustic rock, a perfect soundtrack to a nostalgic road trip, while The Heartless Bastards played rock and with a female front whose husky voice only got better with wear and tear as the set progressed.