Fountains of Wayne Sky Full of Holes

We all come of age at our own pace. If you equate that to a musical career, Fountains of Wayne have sustained the music industry slump for over fifteen years without the slightest sigh of defeat. Possibly due to a wide gap between each consequent record, the cast-iron power pop troupe has imparted a healthy dose of dry wit with an unassuming touch of class that is always outside of the current generational lens. Between side projects and movie scores, they’ve been wise enough to regroup when there’s a need to communicate a new batch of songs. Known for their plausible life stories, it wouldn’t be surprising to find out that they’ve been coupling enough observations to mold a separation between fiction and reality that is just right.

Having scored a bulls-eye hit with top 40 sing-a-long Stacy’s Mom, Fountains of Wayne have managed to outlive the stigma of their one-hit wonder status. To be fair, it also came at a point when the band still hadn’t fully patented its identity. Their self-titled debut miraculously stood the test of time, even if that mid nineties production still palpitates in all its rackety glory – it still sounds like a beguilingly gnawing pop record that made its appearance when flannel was making its last run on department store rack shelves. After they explored their schmaltzy side with the greatly undervalued Utopia Parkway, it seemed as if FoW finally hit their stride with their most striving. Both a commercial and artistic breakthrough, Welcome Interstate Managers established songwriters Chris Collingwood and Adam Schlesinger as a gridiron duo to be reckoned with, as they had actually managed to unexpectedly intrude at the pop charts with a blast of big, warm-hearted hooks and breezy jangle melodies.

Sky Full of Holes, the band's fifth release, doesn’t stray from their foundation of fitting rhymed schemes amidst archetypal power pop chords. Fountains of Wayne are pop classicists, so its no surprise that mid-tempo opener The Summer Place makes its entryway with a splotch of castanets, cyclical acoustic strums, and some organ noodling. They even continue their knack for pop balladry with Someone’s Gonna Break Your Heart, a chuffing radio jolt that reenacts Radiation Vibe with a burnished, glossy finish. Even the country-tinged conformity of A Road Song and Workingman’s Hands further expands on some of the rootsy numbers they had hinted in tracks like Valley Winter Song and Hackensack. For a band that thrives on shuffling swaggering clean guitars with subdued aplomb, they’ve given themselves the opportunity to restore their previous skin, and much wiser, with a welcome maturity that completely redeems Traffic and Weather’s bland, recurring guitar work.

As for the lyrical content, FoW have mostly forsaken their usual inanity with a cast of players who’ve grown into their middle age. Needless to say, their personal calamities are in full swing, with stories that range from two clueless travelers who are separated by boundless rail tracks (Acela), ill fated small business entrepreneurs (Richie and Ruben), and a doleful woman who resorts to some inebriate dancing after a day gone awry (Firelight Waltz). Schlesinger shines a light on these middle-class folk with utmost detail and reverence, mostly refraining from his compulsory metered rhymes with prosaic passages that encompass an all-around twinge of sadness. For a band who has been scorned in the past for writing frivolous words, they really do hone down an overall theme that embraces their current age alongside the occasional need to throw a reference from time to time.

Will FoW be ostracized by devotees for their sudden absence to dispose of their carbonated power pop in favor of a more stripped down record? It could suffer that fate, but those who have been paying attention can outline their new bearing as expected, or even intrinsic at this point in their career. Sky Full of Holes is definitely a quaint, understated effort that embraces a one-dimensional form of songwriting with commanding force. Habitually, artists are reprimanded for coming off as too comfortable when they’re at ease in their own skin. Taking off that first impression, that so-called simplicity also represents a giant songwriting leap for a band that was about to hit a creative brick wall. Just like the characters it’s based on, they linger in this new transition in another summer that will come and go with much worth remembering. Kind of what growing up feels like.