Showing posts with label Fountains of Wayne. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fountains of Wayne. Show all posts

Monday, April 1, 2019

Fake Bands: The Wonders



The Wonders: That Thing You Do
[purchase the film’s extended cut in which it seems that Hanks’ character might be gay]
[purchase the soundtrack]

I’ve written about, or at least mentioned, a bunch of fake bands, including The Archies, The Monkees (which some would argue turned into a real band), The Commitments, Spinal Tap, The Blues Brothers, and The Rutles. But never The Wonders.

In 1996, Tom Hanks was one of the biggest stars in Hollywood. He had recently done A League of Their Own, Sleepless in Seattle, Philadelphia, Forrest Gump (a move that I found to be overrated and uncomfortable to watch), and Apollo 13. And many of these roles won him Oscars, Golden Globes and other awards. But Hanks, like many actors, it seems, wanted to write and direct a film. While doing the lengthy publicity tour for Forrest Gump, Hanks became tired of talking about himself, and banged out a screenplay in 30 days, which 20th Century Fox agreed to produce it as long as Hanks agreed to star in it (which he did, as a record company executive).

Hanks, who had a love for early 60s music (particularly the Dave Clark Five, who he inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame That is Missing Many Great Acts and Includes Some Terrible Ones), wrote a story about a 60s band’s rise and fall, and even wrote much of the music for the soundtrack. The film, That Thing You Do! was filled with then-unknown actors, many of whom later became stars, including, in rough order of future fame, Charlize Theron, Liv Tyler, Tom Everett Scott, Giovanni Ribisi, Steve Zahn, Ethan Embry and Johnathon Schaech (and many of Hanks’ family and friends in smaller roles or cameos). And it was a charming, fun movie that was well received by both critics and the general public.

But one song that Hanks did not write was the title track, “That Thing You Do” (without the exclamation point). It was written by Adam Schlesinger, who wrote it at roughly the same time as his band, Fountains of Wayne, was working on its great debut album. Schlesinger (who I just found out is a cousin of Jon Bernthal, TV’s “The Punisher”) had just gotten his first publishing deal, and someone from the company told him that there was a call out for a song that would sound like something that an American band in 1964 would write, after being blown away by the Beatles. Schlesinger, who considered it a writing exercise, wrote a bouncy pop song, and recorded a demo, with Mike Viola, of The Candy Butchers, singing lead vocals because, as Schlesinger later stated, “He’s just a much better singer than me.” He got the gig.

In the film, “That Thing You Do” is originally a ballad, but when the band’s new drummer joins, he plays the song faster, and it becomes a hit. In the movie, the song hits #7, and the liner notes to the soundtrack album state that it peaked at #2. But, spoiler alert, the band breaks up before any more of their songs become hits. The real world also liked “That Thing You Do.” It had moderate chart success in the United States and overseas. Schlesinger was nominated for both an Oscar and Golden Globe for the song, losing out to a tear-jerker from Evita sung by Madonna.

The version of the song that appeared in the film was not played by the actors, who nevertheless learned to play their instruments so that it looked convincing, but instead was a re-recorded version of the demo. In 2017 three of the four actors got together and performed the song live—missing was Steve Zahn, who was the lead guitarist and who was replaced by someone else wearing a Zahn mask.  Ethan Embry, who played the bass player, and in a running gag, was never named (and whose character was listed in the credits as "T.B. Player), did perform.

Remarkably, the song has been covered a number of times, including by another Beatles’ influenced band, The Knack (although it failed to make my piece on their covers), and by ‘NSYNC.

Wednesday, February 6, 2013

Winter: Valley Winter Song



Fountains of Wayne: Valley Winter Song
[purchase]

Last week, in writing about Dough, I compared them to Fountains of Wayne, who are, in my opinion, among the best writers of intelligent pop songs. As a non-musician, the ability to write songs is, to me, a nearly miraculous talent, and the ability to write a perfect pop song makes me genuflect.

“Valley Winter Song” was written by Chris Collingwood, one of the two principal songwriters of Fountains of Wayne, and it is a gentle ballad that he wrote for his wife about the winters in Western Massachusetts, being stuck in the house and suffering from seasonal affective disorder. I do love living in the northeast, but sometimes during the winter I question my sanity. Nevertheless, when the snow is falling down, and you can stay in your house, or go out and cavort in the white powder, or just stay on the couch drinking hot cocoa, it is actually kind of nice.

In the song, Collingwood refers to “our New England town,” and some quick research uncovers that he lives in Northampton, Massachusetts, one of the more interesting and tolerant communities around. It is also the home of Smith College, an amazing place that also happens to be the alma mater of my wife, and where my daughter currently attends college. Since my daughter has been in Northampton, she has been pretty lucky—the weather hasn’t been brutally cold, and the snow has come only in isolated spurts. They did get nailed pretty badly during the northeaster (I’m not a pirate, so I refuse to use “nor’easter”) on Halloween 2011 and lost power for a while. Of course, they are now calling for a pretty bad storm this weekend, so we shall see. It’s all probably a result of climate change, which has resulted in warmer winters and more violent storms in our part of the world. One of the great things about being at college during a storm like that is that you have the infrastructure and resources available to mitigate the hardships, and you are surrounded by friends. And you don’t have to shovel.

Last Sunday, I woke up in New York with a dusting of snow on the ground, which didn’t stop me and my wife from driving the two plus hours up to Northampton for the Silver Chord Bowl, an a cappella concert held on Smith’s campus. It sold out the 2,000 seat hall, and we were on line an hour early to get good seats. Although my musical tastes are pretty varied, I’ve never been a fan of a cappella music—I made it through 4 years at Princeton, which has a long and proud tradition of such music basically avoiding it, except when the singers blocked an archway I needed to get through (I apologize now to my friends who were in any of the singing groups that I callously ignored—I think I have grown a little in the past 35 years).

Of course, the apparently omnipotent gods of harmony singing have had their revenge—my son’s college percussion group performed each parent’s weekend in a long showcase show featuring many, many a cappella groups, and he is now dating an a cappella singer. My daughter is a member of the Smithereens, the fourth oldest women’s group in the country (not the more recently formed and excellent rock band of the same name) who performed in the Silver Chord Bowl, thus explaining why I left my cozy house on a snowy winter day to sit through what turned out to be a very entertaining show. Oh, and it was Super Bowl Sunday, a winter ritual that transcends the game itself (my daughter said that a friend asked why they were playing football at a Beyoncé concert). It is only because I am just that good a father that I would miss the first quarter of the big game (not to mention the commercials) to see her perform. The Smithereens were great, by the way.

Sunday, October 17, 2010

Parody and Satire -> Call Me: Fountains Of Wayne Hotline


Robbie Fulks: Fountains of Wayne Hotline

[purchase]

Our transition song this week was released as a one-off single in 2005, making it a bit more recent than we usually go for. But it was supposedly recorded as a private joke a couple of years earlier and then shelved for a long while before fan pressure prompted its release, and the songcraft it parodies has certainly been around long enough to count.

Full disclosure: I love Fountains of Wayne, especially 2003 hit record Welcome Interstate Managers, which is the same disc which Fulks and his band were listening to during the time they recorded this song in their friend's garage. [Ed: read more about the backstory here.] But Robbie Fulks' total breakdown of their formulaic approach to music is funny as hell, and a worthy addition to a vast and far-too-often underrated catalog which includes both the serious electro-pop satire of 2001 fave Real Money and such faux-country singalong love song hilarity as The Scrapple Song.

I have to admit, I'm not sure if this song is as funny if you haven't had college level courses in music theory. But let's give it a try, shall we?

Saturday, June 5, 2010

Three Minute Pop Songs: More Recent Edition



It would be easy to think, from this week’s posts, that the three minute pop song was a phenomenon of the 60s and early 70s, never to be heard of again. Even They Don’t Know, from the 80s, was produced with a certain retro feel, and the same case could be made for the British ska scene in general, if not of Three Minute Hero in particular. But I am here to report that the three minute pop song is alive and well. Here are an example from the 90s and one from 2003. Each has thematic elements that are universal to pop songs throughout the ages, and each, musically, belongs entirely to its time.

Fountains of Wayne: Hackensack

[purchase]

Hackensack is a beautiful pop ballad, and a love song. The guy pledges devotion to the girl who has left him behind, swearing to be there for her should she ever return. The production is understated for this kind of song, compared to how it might have been done in the sixties or seventies. But the emotion comes through every bit as clearly. For this kind of song to work, every element must be exactly in place, and yet it must all feel effortless. I offer this as a fine example of how it’s done.

Toad the Wet Sprocket: Walk on the Ocean

[purchase]

Walk on the Ocean is a little more complicated. This is a little gem of songwriting, of the sort that makes the charts only once in a while. Taken literally, the song tells of a couple who make a trip to the seashore, and then come home. If that was all, it wouldn’t be worth remembering the song. But Walk on the Ocean also works on another level. It seems to me that the trip to the seashore is actually a remembrance of the characters’ youth. They remember all of the friends they’ve always said they would get back in touch with, but probably won’t. And they remember an innocence lost that can never be regained.

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Title Tracks: Utopia Parkway



Fountains of Wayne: Utopia Parkway

[purchase]

Fountains of Wayne's Adam Schlesinger and Chris Collingwood often come off like the Donald Fagen and Walter Becker of powerpop, observing the world with a detached sense of humor that often only reveals itself upon closer inspection, while wearing their influences on their sleeves. But the results are more fun to listen to than Steely Dan ever were.

It's a shame that they will probably be remembered by the masses as a one-hit wonder. Their small catalog overflows with catchy numbers like this one, which I was reminded of when I passed a "Utopia Pkwy" sign on a recent drive out to Long Island.

I grew up not far from the kitschy store that gave Fountains of Wayne their name. I'll never forget the time my Mom heard them on an NPR program and immediately called me up to see if I knew that there was a band named after the store.

Of course I had.