There's the song about how we're all ground up in the wheels of industry ("Mexican Wine," used to gulp down pills and irony), the one about the guy who can't stop drinking long enough to appreciate his day job ("Bright Future in Sales"), the one about the dude who lusts after a M.I.L.F. ("Stacy's Mom"), the one about the guy whose woman gets him through endless days in the cubicle ("Hey Julie") and plenty more about the women who got away--ran away, actually, from the office-space stalkers and clip-on-tie creeps and 9-to-5 nobodies who narrate these songs like exiles from Randy Newman albums sung by Freedy Johnston. And the music, each song catchy as a single but more evocative in context and in order, only ups the ante: You'll sing along to these power-pop songs, just long enough to realize you knew the words before you heard them, proof enough the Fountains have tapped into something deep in the rock-and-roll shallow end.