Song-X-Song: 'Welcome Interstate Managers'

Fountains of Wayne's Hit Album Turns 20 This Year. Some Thoughts & Theories.

I’m fascinated by Fountains of Wayne’s flawed masterpiece, Welcome Interstate Managers. To my ears it’s a reluctant Gen X concept album on par with career-defining works like Wilco’s Yankee Hotel Foxtrot and Radiohead’s OK Computer. But it’s also the album that unleashed “Stacy’s Mom,” forever making them one-hit-wonders.

I was a Fountains of Wayne (FoW) fan from the moment I heard “Radiation Vibe,” the mind blowing lead single from their self-titled 1996 debut. I grabbed their equally-impressive sophomore album Utopia Parkway in 1999 and Welcome Interstate Managers (WIM) in 2003 before slowly drifting away from the band.

They released the expansive compilation Out-of-State Plates in 2005, followed by two more studio albums, Traffic and Weather in 2007 and Sky Full of Holes in 2011, before breaking up. I was still a fan during the second half of their career, just a little less rabid about newer material as it arrived—which was my loss.

That all changed in late 2018 when I interviewed bassist/vocalist Adam Schlesinger who, along with guitarists/vocalist Chris Collingwood, formed Fountains of Wayne’s incredible songwriting duo. The band’s talented line up was rounded out by lead guitarist Jody Porter and drummer Brian Young.

That interview became the basis for my essay “Power Pop For Slackers” published in Go All The Way: A Literary Appreciation of Power Pop, the 2019 collection I co-edited with Paul Myers. (Schlesinger sadly died in March 2020, an early victim of COVID-19.)

In preparation for the interview, I did a deep dive on the band’s impressive catalog, reconnecting with old favorites and discovering gems I’d missed. It was during this period that I found myself most often returning to tracks from WIM—a self-funded album the band made after being dropped by Atlantic Records in 1999.

Something clicked. I suddenly understood this album in a deeper way than I had before (which led to a period of obsessive listening and some unhinged fan theories that I talked about at length on the That Record Got Me High podcast last August. Don’t worry, I’m better now—but some of those theories do pop up below…).

WIM turns 20 this year, so I’m going song-by-song on one of my favorite guitar pop albums of the 2000s. If you only know “Stacy’s Mom,” or if you haven’t listened to the whole album in a while, go ahead and give it a spin. It’s fantastic.

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1. "Mexican Wine”

The album opens with some of my favorite FoW lyrics:

He was killed by a cellular phone explosion
They scattered his ashes across the ocean
The water was used to make baby lotion
The wheels of promotion were set into motion

These four lines capture many of the collection’s major themes—cynicism, careerism, technophobia, consumerism and alcoholism.

The nonchalant “Yep” (“Yup”?) that brings the band in after the first chorus beautifully sums up where FoW was at this momentary low point in their career. I’d be hard-pressed to think of another three-letter utterance that better encapsulates an album’s entire mood. It’s ironic, dismissive, self-aware and perfect.

Beyond that, “Mexican Wine” has all the hallmarks of FoW’s best songs including solid musicianship, great energy, snarky lyrics and killer hooks.

2. “Bright Future in Sales"

Building on darker themes in the previous track, we climb inside the head of disillusioned twenty-something struggling with personal demons and career doubts.

The solid guitar/bass groove is undeniable, propelled by incredible drumming and crucial tambourine. A shining example of FoW’s ability to craft the perfect pop song while building an entire universe populated with quirky characters.

3. "Stacy's Mom"

If you love FoW, then you’re probably a little dismissive of this one. As previously mentioned, it’s the song that made them “one hit wonders” despite a catalog jam-packed with “obvious hits”—but it’s still amazing.

It may have become ubiquitous in the early 2000s (largely thanks to the Chris Applebaum-directed video starring Rachel Hunter) and a staple of alt rock radio and power pop playlists ever since, but it’s also probably the only reason that we got another couple of FoW albums and a B-sides collection. I’m a fan.

4. "Hackensack"

Devastating. After a rocking three-song run to open the album—ending with their most obvious commercial track—FoW reminds you that they are not one-trick ponies.

In fact, the strategic placement of “Hackensack” right after “Stacy’s Mom” makes me think that the band was totally aware of the effect this potent one-two punch would have on listeners. It takes all the air out of the commercial rock momentum to deliver a masterclass in understated heartbreak, longing and wistfulness. An all-time favorite.

5. "No Better Place"

After four consecutive home runs, the album takes the first of many pronounced stylistic turns. In this case, we get the solid foundation of FoW’s sound combined with Oasis-meets-’70s Laurel Canyon vibes.

And, as a drummer myself, I need to point out that Brian Young probably plays those loping Ringo Starr drumrolls on this track (and throughout the album) better than almost anybody. They can be deceptively hard to pull off, and Young nails them.

6. "Valley Winter Song"

Another understated stunner, loosely in the vein “Hackensack.” The acoustic guitar work here is beautiful, perfectly complemented by the shuffling drums.

Lyrically, this is an unabashedly romantic love song that tugs at the heartstrings while giving the sense that you and your sweetheart just climbed inside a snow globe that sits on a fireplace mantle, cozy and content above the crackling flames.

7. "All Kinds of Time"

It’s endearing to hear a “geek rock” band singing about high school/college sports, but it’s an unlikely theme that FoW periodically returns to during their career.

I like to think of this one as a flashback sequence for the protagonist from “Mexican Wine” and “Bright Future in Sales,” or maybe the lovesick teen from “Stacy’s Mom.” It offers a glimpse into those carefree years when the possibilities were endless—long before the drudgery, disappointments and dread of adulthood.

8. "Little Red Light"

I’m a sucker for rock energy and pop hooks, so this track is right in my wheelhouse.

Lyrically and musically it has a lot more in common with WIM’s first two tracks than the three that immediately precede it (although it does shares a certain Beatles-via-Oasis energy with “No Better Place”). And the dismissive swipes at “modern technology” throughout the song are a nice bonus (“On my big black plastic Japanese cordless phone,” “On the desktop mailbox of my big black laptop,” etc.).

This track, “Hackensack” and “Hey Julie” are probably the WIM songs that I come back to most often when I’m not listening to the whole album.

9. "Hey Julie"

A stripped-down acoustic rocker and one of my favorite FoW songs of all time. The understated hooks and heartfelt lyrics are effortless in a way that only songwriters of Collingwood’s and Schlesinger’s caliber can pull off.

I am constantly struck by the kinship this song has with The Beatles’ “Hard Day’s Night,” with an added layer of Gen X/Office Space snark. This one offers yet another character study that has you rooting for this young couple. So good it hurts.

Hours on the phone making pointless calls
I got a desk full of paper that means nothing at all
Sometimes I catch myself staring into space
Counting down the hours 'til I get to see your face

10. "Halley's Waitress"

I know some FoW fans love this song (who else but a true fan would have opinions about track 10?), but I’m not one of them. Although stylistically and musically solid, there’s something about the lyrical punning that makes me groan. Forgive me fellow FoW fans, but personal taste truly is subjective.

11. "Hung Up on You"

Honky tonk isn’t the kind of music I want or expect from FoW, but it’s hard to deny how much I like this song. Beer, bourbon and roadside bars dot the landscape on this unsteady journey through the end of a relationship. And there’s something really compelling about the central role that old-fashioned phones play in this heartbroken tale, considering the song was released well into the mobile phone era.

12. "Fire Island"

Another stylistic departure in a string of songs that might make the album feel a little uneven over all, but I love this piano ballad. I’m not sure what kind of social life you had as a teen, but I grew up partying with rich kids in the ‘80s so the lyrics and mood really resonate with me.

The pointless adolescent self-indulgence and low-level stupidity on display is really relatable (“Driving on the lawn, sleeping on the roof,” “Cranking up the tunes, 'Til the windows break, Feeding chocolate to the dog”), which makes the romantic notions they conjure that much more impactful. A great example of how FoW songs can often feel like a well-written short story or the perfect snapshot of a lost moment.

13. "Peace and Love"

This song and “Halley’s Waitress” are my least favorite tracks on the album. I’ve still probably heard them both a hundred times given that I’ve spent a countless hours with this album, but neither are songs I seek out individually.

14. "Bought for a Song"

I think of this song as the closing statement to the careerist and technophobe themes explored in “Mexican Wine,” “Bright Future in Sales,” “Little Red Light” and “Hey Julie.” The crucial difference here is that Collingwood/Schlesinger seem to turn their disapproving lens on the music industry in general and FoW’s career specifically.

For a band that likes to create quirky characters and build fictional universes, this track feels positively autobiographical—especially given FoW’s career prospects during the making of WIM. This is where they make it plain that, on some level, being in a signed band is just another job (and heavy drinking is not a great coping strategy):

Tried to take a shuttle to Spain
They kicked me off of the plane
I guess I'll go to Japan
It all looks the same when you stump for the man

And down in the valley we crawl in the alley
Who knew the 101 was so long?
Before you get sold, you get bought for a song

15. "Supercollider"

Here we’re back in the Oasis-meets-’70s Laurel Canyon mode first introduced on “No Better Place” (along with those fantastic drum rolls!).

I’ve often wondered if this is FoW’s attempt to retreat from writing think-y pop music and just rock. Or maybe they were really into Brit Pop (they were unabashed Beatles fans, after all). Either way, it’s a good mid-tempo rocker that’s a little hypnotic.

16. "Yours and Mine"

It’s no secret that Collingwood/Schlesinger took a Lennon/McCartney approach to sharing songwriting credit, regardless of who wrote what. It’s also pretty well known that they progressively wrote alone as FoW evolved.

This short track is a great album closer, masterfully weaving the wine imagery from “Mexican Wine” into sad lyrics about an inevitable break up—but I hear something else too (did I mention my unhinged fan theories?!).

I have no proof, at all (zero, zilch), but given where the band was in their career arc at this pivotal moment—WIM was more likely to end up a swan song than a commercial break through—I tend to hear this track as the end of Collingwood’s and Schlesinger’s tight songwriting partnership, such as it was.

17. “Elevator Up" (Bonus Track)

Enough of the doom and gloom—let’s party like it’s London in the late ‘90s!

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What’s Your Favorite WIM song?

Share with the class in the comments.

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