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The great Fountains Of Wayne just issued their fifth album in a career that dates back 15 years. Sky Full Of Holes (Yep Roc) was recorded by the band—vocalist/guitarist Chris Collingwood, multi-instrumentalist Adam Schlesinger, guitarist Jody Porter and drummer Brian Young—in New York City at the studio Schlesinger co-owns, and it may be the quartet’s best effort to date. Fountains Of Wayne is currently on tour, but Collingwood and Schlesinger will also be guest editing magnetmagazine.com all week. Read our brand new Q&A with the dynamic duo.
The Washington County Fair
Collingwood: My grandparents had a farm outside of Pittsburgh, and every summer of my childhood we spent a week at the County Fair inWashington,Pa. There were carnies, sideshow attractions, 4-H milkshakes, craft shows, tractor pulls, demolition derbies and an endless line of livestock barns with cattle, sheep, rabbits, goats and chickens. My brother and I would bring sleeping bags and crash out on a bed of hay in an empty stall in the angus barn. Our uncle Kirk took us on a shitty ride called the Music Express, which just flung you really fast in a circle while they blasted Southern rock. One night, Kirk and his friend stole a golf cart from the security office and strapped my brother and me in the back where the golf bags go, then did donuts all up and down the path from the arena to the cattle barns. I was too young to figure out the details, but it was pretty obvious they got in serious trouble. These days, they’d probably go to prison for shit like that.
George Carlin’s “People Are Fucking Boring” Routine
Collingwood: A masterstroke with the longest, most detailed and irrelevant setup about spelunking, dinosaur turds and Y2K—and a payoff so visceral and immediate that knowing it’s coming doesn’t make it any less perfect. He concludes by saying he wishes he were in a coma so he wouldn’t have to listen to people’s stupid shit. I saw George Carlin shortly before he died, at theCalvinTheater inNorthampton,Mass. His timing was off, and he spent quite a while talking about old age, but it’s a tribute to the guy that he was just as pissed off at the end of his life as he was in the ’70s.
The Lonesome Brothers
Collingwood: The Lonesome Brothers are an institution inNorthampton,Mass. The pairing of local legends Ray Mason and Jim Armenti is a roots-rock/rockabilly/country outfit with the energy and purpose of a young punk band. I saw them a couple weeks ago in a shack in the middle of a cornfield inWorthington,Mass., and in about 10 minutes, they turned a roomful of sleepy locals into a whirling, frenetic dance party. When the band took a set break, the entire bar emptied out onto the lawn in the back, where the owner set off fireworks. Then we all filed back inside, and it was as if they had never stopped. If I ever throw a giant drunken hootenanny, these guys will be headlining.
Christopher Hitchens
Collingwood: If you have some time to kill and you want to realize how little you know about stuff, go to YouTube and type in “Hitchens debate.” There are hours and hours of footage of the guy beating up on hapless opponents, sometimes politely, more often not, but always with a mot juste and a baffling mastery of the subject at hand. He strikes me as one of the last public intellectuals, an anachronism in the era of evolution denial and three-hour CGI shitfests. Sadly, Hitchens became seriously ill around the time of the publication of his memoir, Hitch-22. You can still read him in Vanity Fair and on Slate.com.
Sam Lipsyte
Collingwood: I learned about Sam Lipsyte at an installment of John Wesley Harding‘s Cabinet Of Wonders show, at a little cabaret on Bleecker Street called Le Poisson Rouge. It’s a variety show, and this one included Josh Ritter, Eugene Mirman and Graham Parker, plus my friend Dennis Diken of the Smithereens on drums. A great show throughout, but Sam made the biggest impression with a dark, ugly piece about betrayal that seemed to hush the audience like a toxic gas. I’m a sucker for a certain type of intense lyrical writing, and right away I went out and bought his books. The heroes of Lipsyte’s novels are pathetic in the truest sense, bilious and petty and self-destructive. Yet you root for them, as life hilariously beats them down, and in the end their comeuppance feels not like just desserts but cruel fate. He’s got threenovels, and the most recent, The Ask, is my favorite.
“The Lair Of The White Worm”
Collingwood: The Lair Of The White Worm is a vampire movie I first saw when I was in college, and why it never became a massive cult hit is beyond me. Part horror story, part comedy, part love story and part slapstick, it’s so over the top in every imaginable way that it’s hard to describe. Based on the last book by Bram Stoker, who apparently was suffering from dementia as he tried to finish it, the movie features Amanda Donohoe as the earthly servant of a snake god who lives in the caverns of D’Ampton; a then-unknown Hugh Grant plays the local noble who does battle with the beast. A topless saber-toothed seductress, a giant white serpent in a flaming pit, damsels in distress and too many plot twists to count—I know the movie word for word, and it’s aged incredibly well.
“Three Word Phrase”
Collingwood: Three Word Phrase is a web comic by a guy called Ryan Pequin, who near as I can tell is a graduate art student fromCanada. I’m not normally a comics person, but Pequin’s strips aren’t comics in the traditional sense. They’re little, self-contained absurdities, full of overpondered inanities and nervous anti-heroes, and even the disgusting ones are kind of charming. It’s impossible to read one without going through the entire collection. My favorite: Murderhole.


