Fountains of Wayne
Utopia Parkway
[Scratchie/Atlantic]
Rating: 5.1
A local Top 40 radio station preferred by the data entry ladies in Keds
recently held a ridiculous contest. Four lucky listeners had a shot at
winning a Saturn Sedan. The pony- tailed DJs parked the four- door by the
escalator rotunda in the newest mall in the suburban area, and all four
slap- happy listeners had to live in the car, in the mall, for as long as
possible. The contest cops allowed the listeners out from the boxy domestic
once a day for an hour so they could wipe off with hot towels, defecate, and
buy Cinnabons. Whichever listener could endure the lumbar pains the
longest and outlast the others in this bucket- seat endurance would win the
ride. The lure of the ten- grand, plastic, door- stop- shaped automobile
drove these four people to live in the Saturn for nearly the length of a WNBA
season.
After listening to Fountain of Wayne's mall- walking soundtrack, Utopia
Parkway, I kept thinking back to those four contestants with comma-
shaped spines trapped in the Saturn, where they usually set up Santa's
Village. This entire album sounds like it was recorded by four white
guys in a Saturn parked by the foodcourt. Nothing here exists outside
of the world of sprinklers, sprinkles, and sport quenchers. This album
is suburbia perfectly captured by four suburbanites with suburban
sounds-- neon, sod, and concrete pressed into DAT plastic. Perhaps their
accomplishment is to be commended, but then again... it's suburbia,
and how banal is that?
I'm scratching my head trying to come up with new ways of saying "sugary
sweet." There's been a glut of pure guitar pop recently, and not even my
thesaurus can help. It seems like every young kid with a Fender has been
buying a Beatles franchise recently, and shoveling out crisp Rubber Soul
rip-offs. But out of the current batch of vended pop that's sitting on my
review pile, this record's gum stuck least in my memory hairs.
To make sure the album ages badly, Fountains of Wayne throw in
silly pop culture references such as "the guy from Korn" and Pink Floyd
laser- shows, which wouldn't be so bad if it was done with any sense of
lyrical ingenuity. I mean, I'll take Pavement's "What about the voice of
Geddy Lee..." over "the guy from Korn" any day.
One of Utopia Parkway's highlights is a well- acted ballad about Senior
Prom that would break Seth Green's heart. It's a nice song and all, but I can't
help hearing it playing over the slow- dance scene in "She's All That 2: A Bag
of Chips." If an album could ever be accused of being too nice, this would
be it. Nothing offends. No sound feels out of place. No vocal is out of
harmony. And you know what? It's boring. Move to the city or the woods.
-Brent DiCrescenzo