I am completely enamored of the recent Fountains of Wayne album, and I don't care who knows it.
Yes, I know they're formulaic. Yes, they tell too many stories and sing pop tunes in the key of happy with the same harmonies and versions of the same clever lyrics. Yes, many of the stories are sappy. Simplistic. Of love that is resolved in three verses with a bridge. Yes, this is a retread of everything they've ever done before, and Leave the Biker has never been bested (though in my humble opinion Red Dragon Tattoo, Hey Julie, and Valley of Malls are its equal.)
I don't care.
I don't even care that they wrote the songs to that Hugh Grant/Drew Barrymore movie, Music and Lyrics, which, by the way, I loved for its sappiness, too. And for Hugh Grant's silly dancing. But mostly for the sappiness.
There truly are few things that make me happier than a well-turned pop song. And even fewer happy things are available at the spin of the iPod wheel.
Fountains of Wayne rock. Rock, I tell you. ROCK.