Album Reviews 22/09/01

Mary Onettes, What I Feel In Some Places EP (Labrador Records)

Glad I decided to clean out my pathetically overstuffed excuse for an emailbox, because this one had gone in one eyeball and out the other back in June and I’d totally forgotten about it. This Swedish band would belong in the same section of your Spotify as Raveonettes, Jesus & Mary Chain, et al., i.e. they’re a shoegaze/dream-pop crew, one of the few genres I still get excited about: Usually noisy but pretty, it’s been around forever now; you always know what you’re going to get out of these records. The tradition continues here with this three-songer’s title track, a stunningly pretty, sunburst-y mid-tempo tune that has more ’80s-synthpop than any casual fan of Stranger Things could ever hope for. It tugs at the hormonal angst area of the brain with the best of them, and then comes “Mind On Fire,” a vision of Sigur Ros reborn as a radio-pop band. Great stuff. A+

Boris, Heavy Rocks (Relapse Records)

We last left this Japanese experimental metal/stoner trio way back in — wow, January of this year, with their count-em-27th album, W. That one included material that was on a Portishead/My Bloody Valentine tip, and like always there was nothing wrong there other than yet another return to a more ambient approach, but after 30 years in business and that many records, these guys are holding a golden ticket, able to do pretty much whatever they want. Lucky for their metalhead fans, what they usually want to do is spazz and rock out; which is what they do on this one, again. To me, their essence is that of a wind-up toy, sort of like those plastic teeth that would walk around chattering crazily until they ran out of steam: Like they’ve done plenty of times, this LP finds them wound all the way up and throwing cartoonish but thoroughly listenable wackiness at the listener, starting with opener “She Is Burning,” a cross between AC/DC and Hives if I’ve ever heard one, and I sure haven’t. Is it awesome? Yes, it is, and fun fact, this is the third time they’ve put out an album titled Heavy Rocks. No, I’m serious. A+

Playlist

• It’s over, baby, the summer’s over, I can’t even stand it, the next bunch of albums will be out this Friday, Sept, 2. Where did it go, the lovely summertime, with its beach trips and the occasional visit to the Goldenrod ice cream place in Manchvegas? That’s actually a nice place, for ice cream, I had a chocolate frappe there, and Petunia had some sort of vanilla caramel ice cream thing, you should try it while there’s still time, before it’s freezing and insane, you betcha. Oh sorry, yes, new albums, yes, let’s talk about them. Hopefully you remember when I was throwing all sorts of shade on dumb aughts-era band names, right? Well I really didn’t have room in that mini-rant to cover all the bands with “Club” in their names, like New Young Pony Club, which was a new-rave sort of band, and also Ireland’s Two Door Cinema Club, billed as a post-punk revival band, which, can we be real for just once, is basically the same thing as new-rave. In a way. Or maybe not. Oh whatever, Two Door Cinema Club releases their fifth album, Keep On Smiling, in just a few hours, and it’s all sort of auspicious, given that their last album, 2019’s False Alarm, actually made it to No. 11 on the U.S. indie charts on the strength of the Simple Minds-influenced single “Talk” and a few other tunes, and so I must take them seriously, and so away I go, off to listen to the new single, “Lucky.” Wow, it is totally ’80s, pretty much like A-ha and whatnot, music to roller skate through malls to and all that stuff. If you’re a Gen X-er, you’d probably love these guys.

Yungblud, the pansexual British alt-pop singing dude who was the momentary boyfriend of Halsey, is up to three albums this week, as his new self-titled album is on the way! When it gets here, you’ll be able to thrill to the emo-rawk strains of “The Funeral,” in which our hero dabbles with My Chemical Romance sounds whilst playing around with the Adam Lambert aesthetic he had to steal just to get on the map in the first place. Cool goth jewelry bro!

Sawayama Rina is a Japanese–British art-pop Lady Gaga-wannabe singer-songwriter and model who’s set to make her film acting debut in John Wick: Chapter 4, but then again, isn’t everybody? She’s obviously sort of a manufactured person, molded out of plastic, bearing random messages about — well, nothing really, something-something sexuality, and she did a cover of “Enter Sandman,” probably because she noticed that Miley Cyrus had done some heavy metal cover songs. In other words she’s basically a trite contrivance and you shouldn’t let your kids listen to any of her music, not that you’ll be able to stop them. Mind you, the above is all based on prejudices I held prior to listening to her new album, Hold The Girl, so why don’t I just go and check that out right now, that’d be great. So the video for the album’s title track starts off with a visual based on Walking Dead-style imagery, a random house in the flatland countryside that’s sort of randomly menacing, but then we get a shot of Rina sitting in one of the upstairs bedrooms and then she’s singing exactly like Gaga and you realize she’s destined for obscurity in the not-too-distant future because there’s already a Gaga, so why would anyone care about this album? Why do people even do stuff like this, honestly?

• Let’s wrap up the week with a cursory listen to the new album from arena-thrash band Megadeth, The Sick, The Dying… And The Dead! The tire-kicker advance tune “The Dogs of Chernobyl” sounds exactly like what you think it sounds like: Metallica with a really low budget but totally killer double-bass drums. (People still use “killer” as an adjective, right—?)

If you’re in a local band, now’s a great time to let me know about your EP, your single, whatever’s on your mind. Let me know how you’re holding yourself together without being able to play shows or jam with your homies. Send a recipe for keema matar. Message me on Twitter (@esaeger) or Facebook (eric.saeger.9).

Return of the Artisan, by Grant McCracken

Return of the Artisan, by Grant McCracken (Simon Element, 207 pages)

Behold the Pop-Tart, the humble toaster pastry introduced in 1964. It’s pretty much the same product as it was when Lyndon Johnson was president, which is to say it was the epitome of unnatural food. Designed to fit a toaster, the Pop-Tart was, Grant McCracken writes, “the ultimate triumph of artifice.”

“You couldn’t tell where it had been farmed, who had farmed it, or what, indeed, was in it. Somehow Pop-Tarts existed sui generis.”

Pop-Tarts, of course, still exist, but the world into which they were first introduced is far different now. In the 1960s, Americans were still enamored with factories and assembly lines and the convenience foods that rolled off them. There were objectors, of course; they were called hippies. As McCracken explains in Return of the Artisan, the ideals of the counterculture granola-eating warriors would ultimately prevail. America, the author believes, is over its ill-advised love affair with the industrial production of goods, and we are finding our way back to a better way of producing and consuming. It’s still capitalism, but we’ve found a better way to do it.

The change has occurred in 10 waves that began with the opening of Alice Waters’ trendy Chez Panisse restaurant in Berkeley, California, in 1971, continuing with the tide of “foodie” cookbooks and the trend toward “slow” eating and natural foods, which naturally gave way to mixology and craft beer, and ultimately the rise of “fast casual” fare (think Panera and Chipotle) and, of course, Whole Foods. Incredibly, more than half of Americans identify as a “foodie,” someone who takes an inordinate interest in what they eat and how it is prepared. The trend is so significant that even the giants of mass production are trying to present themselves as artisanal; hence, the advent of Wendy’s “natural” fries and the blocks of “handmade” soap you can buy at chain supermarkets.

But this is not just about food. There are more craft fairs than malls these days, and many of the malls that exist are struggling to survive. Even if they don’t have the time and skill to make gifts themselves, most people prefer to give handmade gifts that have (and hold) value more than anything found in a big-box store. “Artisans make gifting easy,” McCracken writes. “Their creations are perfectly gift-proportioned: authentic, human scale, handmade, they are exactly the right size and shape, plus particular and personal in just the way a gift should be. They are Goldilocks valuable: not too precious, not too mere.”

The change to a society where artisans are valued more than industry comes with subtle shifts that are potentially radical. For example, McCracken says that in this new arrangement, the consumer isn’t king, as Charles Coolidge Parlin famously said. Neither are the Mad Men. The artisans, the ones who know what they’re doing, reign. Also, artisans aren’t in it for big profit, although they, too, need to pay their bills, and McCracken argues that the artisanal economy opens up opportunity for many 9-to-5 workers who have retired or lost their jobs, providing both income and community.

“Capitalism lives to optimize. … The artisan is inclined to make the product she thinks is most compelling, for a small audience, not with the cheapest method, but the most crafted one,” McCracken writes.

McCracken, who lives in Connecticut, is a cultural anthropologist with a Ph.D., and as co-founder of something called the Artisanal Economies Project he has skin in this game. He is not just observing changes in the American economy but advocating for them, elegantly and convincingly. This is a lovely collection of essays, reminiscent of the thoughtful reflections of Bill McKibben, Howard Mansfield and Alan Lightman.

His most powerful one comes at the end of the book, when he recounts how he came to discover a simple canvas wallet that had been made by his uncle’s mother 65 years earlier. “The wallet was what we might call, after Proust, a ‘Madeleine’ object: an object charged with meaning and power,” he writes.

That wallet “opened a cut on the surface of reality. Something dangerous came spilling into life. … Somehow it managed to be both personal and completely traditional. You could see that it conformed to a traditional pattern to which generations had contributed. But it was also the work of an individual in the throes of a terrible emotion driving the stitches in one direction and then another. There was craft here and there was something craft couldn’t contain.”

There are pleasures to be found in Walmart and McDonald’s, to be sure, but they are thin ones and they make us fat. The return of the artisan, as McCracken sees it, won’t solve all our problems and is a slow work that is still in progress; it took 60 years, for example, for people to start questioning the wisdom of Pop-Tarts and mass-produced boxes of cereal. But there is value in the process, and in simply paying attention to the choices we make, McCracken maintains.

“The artisanal community is a respite precisely in that it allows us to take refuge from the blooming, buzzing world out there. It speaks to us precisely because it is not distracted and complicated by a hundred points of view.”

It remains to be seen whether the premises put forth here are true, but it’s a testament to McCracken’s persuasiveness that we want them to be true at the end. See you at the next craft fair. A

Book Notes

In the publishing world, the most prestigious books are the hardcover ones, and that prejudice trickles down to the masses. It’s mostly hardcover books that get reviewed; some publications won’t even consider paperback books. (For the record, we do on occasion.) While many paperbacks are subsequent editions of hardcovers, plenty aren’t, which means a lot of books aren’t getting reviewers’ attention. According to Publisher’s Weekly, there were twice the number of paperbacks (both trade and mass market) as hardcovers last year.

All that is to say, it’s worth poking around “new releases in paperback” to find gems that were not previously published. One appears to be Animal Joy, A Book of Laughter and Resuscitation (Graywolf, 320 pages) by Nuar Alsadir. Alsadir is an Arab-American poet in New York City, and her first nonfiction book is a lyrical and free-form exploration of the importance of laughter and humor to the human animal.

Two other new paperback titles worth your attention as we approach the end of summer reads:

¡Hola, Papi! How to Come Out in a Walmart Parking Lot and Other Life Lessons (Simon & Schuster, 224 pages) is a collection of humorous essays by advice columnist and Substack writer John Paul Brammer.

The author has been called “the Cheryl Strayed for young queer people everywhere,” but I’ve read Strayed and Brammer appears to be much funnier.

Equally fun is the novel Love in the Time of Serial of Killers (Berkley, 352 pages) by Alicia Thompson, which is about a Ph.D. candidate obsessed with true crime who goes to Florida to clean out her childhood home after her father’s death and starts suspecting that the next-door neighbor is, in fact, a serial killer.

On a much more serious note, anyone who wants to show support for Salman Rushdie, hospitalized in critical condition after he was attacked during a presentation earlier this month, could purchase his Language of Truth, a collection of the author’s essays between 2003 and 2020, which was released in paperback in July (Random House Trade, 368 pages).

A past winner of the Booker Prize, Rushdie is the author of 14 novels, including The Satanic Verses, the 1988 novel believed to be blasphemous by many Muslims. Ironically, the subject on which Rushdie was speaking at the time of the attack was about how the U.S. is a “safe haven for exiled writers,” The New York Times reported, quoting the CEO of PEN America, who said, “we can think of no comparable incident of a public attack on a literary writer on American soil.”

In the wake of the attack, The Satanic Verses re-emerged on Amazon’s top 10 list of fiction; it’s No. 1 as of this writing. A paperback edition (576 pages) is available from Random House.


Book Events

Author events

SPENCER QUINN presents Bark to the Future: A Chet & Bernie Mystery on Sunday, Aug. 28, at noon at the Bookery (844 Elm St., Manchester, bookerymht.com, 836-6600).

ADAM SCHIFF presents Midnight in Washington at Gibson’s Bookstore (45 S. Main St., Concord, 224-0562, gibsonsbookstore.com) on Tuesday, Aug. 30, at 2:30.

MINDY MESSMER presents Female Disruptors: Stories of Mighty Female Scientists at the Bookery (844 Elm St., Manchester, bookerymht.com, 836-6600) on Wednesday, Aug. 14, at 5:30 p.m. Free; register at www.bookerymht.com/our-events.

PHIL PRIMACK presents Put It Down On Paper: The Words and Life of Mary Folsom Blair at Gibson’s Bookstore (45 S. Main St., Concord, 224-0562, gibsonsbookstore.com) on Thursday, Sept. 8, at noon.

Poetry

OPEN MIC POETRY hosted by the Poetry Society of NH at Gibson’s Bookstore (45 S. Main St., Concord, 224-0562, gibsonsbookstore.com), starting with a reading by poet Sam DeFlitch, on Wednesday, July 20, from 4:30 to 6 p.m. Newcomers encouraged. Free.

DOWN CELLAR POETRY SALON Poetry event series presented by the Poetry Society of New Hampshire. Monthly. First Sunday. Visit poetrysocietynh.wordpress.com.

Writers groups

MERRIMACK VALLEY WRITERS’ GROUP All published and unpublished local writers who are interested in sharing their work with other writers and giving and receiving constructive feedback are invited to join. The group meets regularly Email [email protected].

Book Clubs

BOOKERY Monthly. Third Thursday, 6 p.m. 844 Elm St., Manchester. Visit bookerymht.com/online-book-club or call 836-6600.

GIBSON’S BOOKSTORE Online, via Zoom. Monthly. First Monday, 5:30 p.m. Bookstore based in Concord. Visit gibsonsbookstore.com/gibsons-book-club-2020-2021 or call 224-0562.

TO SHARE BREWING CO. 720 Union St., Manchester. Monthly. Second Thursday, 6 p.m. RSVP required. Visit tosharebrewing.com or call 836-6947.

GOFFSTOWN PUBLIC LIBRARY 2 High St., Goffstown. Monthly. Third Wednesday, 1:30 p.m. Call 497-2102, email [email protected] or visit goffstownlibrary.com

BELKNAP MILL Online. Monthly. Last Wednesday, 6 p.m. Based in Laconia. Email [email protected].

NASHUA PUBLIC LIBRARY Online. Monthly. Second Friday, 3 p.m. Call 589-4611, email [email protected] or visit nashualibrary.org.

Language

FRENCH LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE CLASSES

Offered remotely by the Franco-American Centre. Six-week session with classes held Thursdays from 6:30 to 8:30 p.m. $225. Visit facnh.com/education or call 623-1093.

Album Reviews 22/08/25

Hiss Golden Messenger, Wise Eyes: Live at The Neptune, Seattle, WA, 2/25/22 (Merge Records)

This Durham, North Carolina, quintet has been a part of the Merge Records stable since 2014’s Lateness of Dancers, after releasing pretty much all of their first six LPs on bandleader MC Taylor’s own Heaven & Earth Magic imprint. Often compared to indie-folk/alt-country acts like Will Oldham, these guys are fedora-rock all the way, appealing to Deadheads probably more than anything (in fact a cover of “Bertha” ends this 17-song live excursion with an appropriately hooting and hollering crowd response). This performance is said to be one of the best from the band’s shows so far, and I’ll take their word for it for now, as they now have something called the “Hiss Mobile Recording Unit” and this collection is the first in a series of live releases recorded on it (I told you they sound like the Dead, right?). Merle Haggard’s “Mama Tried” gets a hayloft treatment here, but other than that it’s the band’s own stuff, including deep cuts and as little as possible from their last full-length, Quietly Blowing It, which got a lot of negative press for its redundancy. B

Matthew Fries, Lost Time (Xcappa Records)

This jazz pianist’s journey started in Selinsgrove, Pennsylvania, his birthplace as well as the city where his father served as a piano professor at Susquehanna University. His deck fiercely stacked, Fries earned his Master of Music degree at the University of Tennessee and eventually won 1997’s Great American Jazz Piano Competition in Jacksonville, Florida. His output is moving into who’s-still-keeping-track numbers at this point, which does help to explain the rather remarkable level of expertise and deep musicality Fries not only wrings out of himself in this tinkly-adamant-tinkly set of originals, but also his two sole cohorts, drummer Keith Hall and bassist John Hebert. The occasion here is the death of Fries’ mother and stepfather (“not from Covid” I’m told), but sad passages are few and far between on this one; mostly it’s colorful, cohesive, upbeat; technically whiz-band. The title track is the one Fries dedicated to his mom; it does stick out as a rather sad but very artful, determined paean. B

Playlist

• The next batch of CD releases drops this Friday, Aug. 26. Like every week, there will be albums that should be taken very seriously, albums that should be taken kind-of seriously and albums from bands like Muse, whose new album Will Of The People is on our docket today! Do you know anyone who loves this band and their sort-of-rock-but-come-on-that’s-not-really-rock music? Heh heh, the first time I heard them was way back in 2006, when they sent me their Black Holes and Revelations LP. Ah, memories, I had no idea what I was doing back then, like, I just wanted these famous bands to like me, if I recall correctly, so I was probably really nice to it when I reviewed it, even though its single, “Starlight,” was a ripoff of ABC’s hauntingly bad 1985 hit single “Be Near Me,” during the mercifully short era in music history when ABC and Spandau Ballet were trying to start a craze where yuppies danced waltzes to bad songs written in 4/4 (non-waltz) time. Music never really recovered from that catastrophe, obviously, and even worse, like we’re talking about, Muse never got the memo about never trying that nonsense. And so Muse went on to become a defective version of Killers, part rock band, part practical joke, and the only reason I’m talking about them at the moment is that there’s no way that they could still be that awful, it’s simply impossible. But now’s when we find that out for sure, as I’m at YouTube, about to listen to — well, I don’t know which song yet. The record company says “the album is not of a ‘singular genre,’” that the title track is a “glam rocker” and “Kill or Be Killed” is “industrial-tinged.” I suppose I’ll have to go with the latter, here we go. Yep, starts off kind of industrial-y, more like Korn-ish, but then it turns into a Raspberries-esque bubblegum-pop song from the 1970s or something, with whatsisname doing that dumb singing. Ha ha, what a weird and stupid band these guys are, seriously.

• One of the dumbest band names of the Aughts was Pianos Become the Teeth, the name of an alt-rock band from Baltimore. I hated those Aughts-era band names, because way too many times the bands were just as dumb, like Philadelphia band Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, South Dakota folk-pop crew We All Have Hooks For Hands and whatever others, sorry, I’m really trying not to think of them right now so I won’t get upset. The only good thing about those band names was that it let me know beforehand that the music was going to be really awful, and for that I sort of thank them. Aaaand we’re moving, one tune on their new album, Drift, is called “Buckley,” a rather cool jangle-drone thing redolent of, say, Jeff Buckley (oddly enough) meets chill-mode Smashing Pumpkins, I don’t mind it.

• Australian indie rock singer-songwriter Stella Donnelly released her first album, Beware of the Dogs, in 2019 and a lot of people really loved it, including famous music critic Robert Christgau, who praised it as a “musical encyclopedia of [male jerks].” That’s all well and good, but her new full-length Flood will street on Friday, and the title track is like Lomelda but with a lot more “what me worry” charm and listenability.

• Finally let’s look at All Of Us Flames, the sixth collection of tunes from Ezra Furman, who came out as a transgender woman in late April 2021. The latest single is “Lilac And Black,” a droopy, woozy alt-ballad. No tour stops in our area from what I can see aside from Fete Music Hall in Providence, Rhode Island, on Sept. 19.

If you’re in a local band, now’s a great time to let me know about your EP, your single, whatever’s on your mind. Let me know how you’re holding yourself together without being able to play shows or jam with your homies. Send a recipe for keema matar. Message me on Twitter (@esaeger) or Facebook (eric.saeger.9).

Dirtbag, Massachusetts by Isaac Fitzgerald

Dirtbag, Massachusetts by Isaac Fitzgerald (Bloomsbury, 242 pages)

When people outside of New England think about Massachusetts, they think about Boston — the history, the sports, the Brahmins.

Isaac Fitzgerald, however, hails from the seamier side of the Commonwealth. His childhood memories include a stint at a homeless shelter in Boston and a generally miserable encampment in a Worcester County town called Athol, which is sometimes irreverently referred to as an expletive that stands in for a body part.

You can’t use that in a book title, however, so Fitzgerald’s memoir is called Dirtbag, Massachusetts.

Subtitled “a confessional,” the book is exactly that, and it’s not just Fitzgerald’s sins that are confessed here, but those of his parents and friends.

“My parents were married when they had me, just to different people,” Fitzgerald begins. It’s a catchy line though somewhat diminished by Fitzgerald’s admission that he’s been saying this to people for much of his adult life; it was a set-up in search of a book-length punchline.

Fitzgerald, who once was the books editor for Buzzfeed and wrote a children’s book called How to Be a Pirate, has the kind of life trajectory that is defiant of its origins. His parents, who were divinity school students when they met and had an affair, were the sort of people who looked good on paper but were a Dumpster fire in reality. And Fitzgerald has no qualms about airing the family’s dirty laundry. While married to other people, for example, his parents would say they were off on “spiritual retreats” while in fact they were meeting for joyous trysts in the White Mountains. (He was conceived on Mount Carrigain.) His mother later told him that she considered getting an abortion and mused, “Maybe it would have been for the best.”

“Telling a child at a very young age, whom you’re raising in the Catholic Church, that he was a miracle conception is a choice,” he writes. “Messy parenting, maybe, but it makes for another good story.”

Dirtbag, Massachusetts is full of good stories, most of which skirt ethical lines, such as Fitzgerald’s father taking him to Red Sox games and usually getting seats “so close you could smell the grass” by telling ushers that it was his son’s first game. (“I must have had a hundred first games.”) There is a roguish charm to the family’s story, not only in the illicit conception, the “happy accident,” but in how hard it seems that Fitzgerald’s parents were trying.

As a young child, the father, who struggled with alcoholism, read him The Hobbit and “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner.” The father would let his son accompany him on a bike while he ran along the Charles River. For a time, it was a vibrant little family, one that was intellectually alive. But there was also an ever-present grubby poverty and worsening relationship problems that caused his mother to cry herself to sleep at night and to overshare with her young son. Fitzgerald writes that his parents’ problems — “her sadness, his anger”— became his as well.

Meanwhile, Fitzgerald himself was growing up rough around the edges. When he went to confession at age 12, “I told the priest about breaking into houses to raid liquor cabinets, lifting bottles from package stores and cigarettes from grocery stores, trading bottles and cigarettes for weed and mushrooms.” The priest himself could not cast the first stone; the story turns dark when young Isaac confesses a sexual encounter and the priest shows an unusual lurid interest in the details. That segues into a discussion of the sex abuse scandal in the Archdiocese of Boston — for a while, Fitzgerald’s mom worked at the cathedral while Bernard Law (archbishop of Boston from 1984 to 2002) was in charge and she would take him to work. As such, he has stories to tell, one truly concerning, although when his mother much later got around to asking him if he had ever been molested, he could say “no” honestly. But he likely came close.

Fitzgerald is no longer a practicing Catholic; he doesn’t even believe in God but says “I still pray anytime I’m in trouble, or feeling lost, or alone, which is to say I still do it almost daily.” He also has an attachment to St. Jude, the patron saint of lost causes, and has a tattoo with an image of the saint, among others. It’s a great metaphor for how any religious upbringing sinks into our pores and stays there, whether we want it there or not.

From there, Fitzgerald takes his substantial comic gifts to describe his stint as a fat kid (although the length of time that he was overweight appears greatly overstated), the joy he found in a high-school “fight club” inspired by the Edward Norton-Brad Pitt movie, and his experience at boarding school, after getting himself admitted on a full scholarship because he was so desperate to leave his dilapidated mill town. When he arrived, he didn’t even have sheets for his bed, or a jacket and tie to wear to the school’s first-night formal dinner. In a poignant moment that seems to sum up the deprivations of his childhood, Fitzgerald explains that he borrowed an overlarge jacket and tie from his Cape Cod roommate and stood there awkwardly, unsure of how to knot the tie. The roommate, who wasn’t a stereotypical prep-school jerk, took notice, and smoothly offered to help. It’s the kind of moment that sticks with you, and one that shows that Fitzgerald has humanity — and appreciates it in others.

There are chapters in the book that don’t work as well. If you’ve never heard of, and don’t care for, the band “The Hold Steady,” you are unlikely to care about them after reading Fitzgerald’s fanboy tribute. (That said, if you love the band, run and get a copy and jump immediately to page 78.) Fitzgerald’s love letter to his favorite bar is best if you, too, have a bar that works double duty as a home. And he abandons all pretenses of chronology after adulthood; jumping back, for example, to an incident at prep school (that I frankly wish were not now in my brain) after relating some stories of international travel.

But none of that prepares us for the discussion of Fitzgerald’s six months of “modeling” for a porn website, which is information I really didn’t want or need. (The book jacket only mentions bartending in San Francisco and smuggling medical supplies into Burma.) TMI. Truly.

After that, however, he slips into sentimental mode for a musing on family that gives hope that even the most messed up families on the planet — or least in Dirtbag, Massachusetts — can end on a sweet note. It’s not the book we want or expect, but maybe it’s a book some of us need. B

Book Notes

When the lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer draw near to a close, it’s usually time for a new, highly anticipated, deeply reported book on the New England Patriots to appear, one that will finally be the “definitive story” of the NFL dynasty. Even in the absence of Tom Brady, we had one last year: It’s Better to Be Fearedby Seth Wickersham (Liveright, 528 pages).

This year: crickets. Other than a few self-published guides to fantasy football, there’s not a lot out there. Aside from an upcoming biography of Dallas Cowboys coach Jimmy Johnson (Swagger, due out in November), the only marquee title welcoming the return of the football season is Rise of the Black Quarterback, What it Means for America by ESPN writer Jason Reid (Andscape, 288 pages). The book begins with the story of the first African American to become an NFL head coach, Fritz Pollard, and works its way up to legends-in-progress like Patrick Mahomes, Colin Kaepernick, Lamar Jackson and Kyler Murray.

There’s also a new book on Jim Thorpe, the multisport athlete who was the first Native American to win a gold medal for Team USA in the Olympics. Path Lit By Lightning (Simon & Schuster, 672 pages) is not for anyone with only a casual history in Thorpe and his achievements, but resides in that “definitive history” genre.

It’s by Pulitzer Prize winner David Maraniss, who chronicles Thorpe’s excellence in football, baseball, basketball and the decathlon while also examining the more sobering realities of his life, such as his struggles with alcoholism. Thorpe is still considered by many to be the world’s greatest athlete, and there’s even a town in Pennsylvania named after him. Publisher’s Weekly calls this an essential work that “restores a legendary figure to his rightful place in history.”

Next, it’s part sports, part business and probably part self-help, but college football fanatics will want to check out The Leadership Secrets of Nick Saban (Matt Holt, 256 pages) by John Talty. The book promises an inside look at how Saban, longtime coach of Alabama’s Crimson Tide, became “the greatest ever.” (Lou Holtz might like a word.) Presumably this builds upon Saban’s own inspirational book, How Good Do You Want to Be?, published in 2007, the year he took over at Alabama.

Finally, for those who insist NASCAR is a sport, Kyle Petty is out with Swerve or Die: Life at My Speed in the First Family of NASCAR Racing (St. Martin’s Press, 288 pages). Now retired and a commentator for NBC Sports, Petty is the son of the late NASCAR legend Richard Petty. It’s a gutsy title, given that his driver son, Adam, was killed in a practice run at New Hampshire Motor Speedway in Loudon 22 years ago.


Book Events

Author events

TOM MOORE Andy’s Summer Playhouse (582 Isaac Frye Highway in Wilton; 654-2613, andyssummerplayhouse.org) and Toadstool Bookshop will present an event with Tom Moore, one of the authors of the bookGrease, Tell Me More, Tell Me More: Stories from the Broadway Phenomenon That Started It All on Friday, Aug. 19, at 5 p.m. at Andy’s Summer Playhouse. See andyssummerplayhouse.org/grease to RSVP to the event.

CAROL BUSBY presents Sailing Against the Tide at the Bookery (844 Elm St., Manchester, bookerymht.com, 836-6600) on Saturday, Aug. 20, at 2 p.m. Free event; register at www.bookerymht.com/our-events.

SPENCER QUINN presents Bark to the Future: A Chet & Bernie Mysteryat Gibson’s Bookstore (45 S. Main St., Concord, 224-0562, gibsonsbookstore.com) on Thursday, Aug. 18, at 6:30 p.m. and on Sunday, Aug. 28, at noon at the Bookery (844 Elm St., Manchester, bookerymht.com, 836-6600). The Bookery event is BYOD: bring your own dog.

PHIL PRIMACK presents Put It Down On Paper: The Words and Life of Mary Folsom Blair in a Literary Lunchtime event at Gibson’s Bookstore (45 S. Main St., Concord, 224-0562, gibsonsbookstore.com) on Thursday, Sept. 8, at noon.

Poetry

OPEN MIC POETRY hosted by the Poetry Society of NH at Gibson’s Bookstore (45 S. Main St., Concord, 224-0562, gibsonsbookstore.com), starting with a reading by poet Sam DeFlitch, on Wednesday, July 20, from 4:30 to 6 p.m. Newcomers encouraged. Free.

DOWN CELLAR POETRY SALON Poetry event series presented by the Poetry Society of New Hampshire. Monthly. First Sunday. Visit poetrysocietynh.wordpress.com.

Writers groups

MERRIMACK VALLEY WRITERS’ GROUP All published and unpublished local writers who are interested in sharing their work with other writers and giving and receiving constructive feedback are invited to join. The group meets regularly Email [email protected].

Book Clubs

BOOKERY Monthly. Third Thursday, 6 p.m. 844 Elm St., Manchester. Visit bookerymht.com/online-book-club or call 836-6600.

GIBSON’S BOOKSTORE Online, via Zoom. Monthly. First Monday, 5:30 p.m. Bookstore based in Concord. Visit gibsonsbookstore.com/gibsons-book-club-2020-2021 or call 224-0562.

TO SHARE BREWING CO. 720 Union St., Manchester. Monthly. Second Thursday, 6 p.m. RSVP required. Visit tosharebrewing.com or call 836-6947.

GOFFSTOWN PUBLIC LIBRARY 2 High St., Goffstown. Monthly. Third Wednesday, 1:30 p.m. Call 497-2102, email [email protected] or visit goffstownlibrary.com

BELKNAP MILL Online. Monthly. Last Wednesday, 6 p.m. Based in Laconia. Email [email protected].

NASHUA PUBLIC LIBRARY Online. Monthly. Second Friday, 3 p.m. Call 589-4611, email [email protected] or visit nashualibrary.org.

Language

FRENCH LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE CLASSES

Offered remotely by the Franco-American Centre. Six-week session with classes held Thursdays from 6:30 to 8:30 p.m. $225. Visit facnh.com/education or call 623-1093.

Album Reviews 22/08/18

Sampa The Great, As Above So Below (Loma Vista Recordings)

Commercial African music isn’t strictly relegated to Afrobeat, a fact that this Zambia-born, Botswana-raised rapper-singer wants to bring to light through this debut album. This is a really rangy record, running a full gamut of feel, from torch to Lil Kim badassness and far beyond. There’s plenty of tourist-trap chill on board, for instance, such as when she tries Sade on for size in the lush, lazy singalong-powered “Never Forget,” but this isn’t yacht-rock joint by a long shot: Breakout track “Bona” is inspired by kwaito and amapiano, dance music styles Sampa grew up with in Botswana, but the vibe itself is pure club, hearing-test bloops trying to pop your woofers like bubble-wrap, doong-ing in rhythm as our heroine raps along at scat speed in a really impressive display of bravado: She owns the place, is the takeaway. That’s fine by me, for what it’s worth, Sampa’s ’tude is absolutely righteous. A+

The Sons of Adam, Saturday’s Sons: The Complete Recordings 1964-1966 (High Moon Records)

Big package here celebrating the first-ever release of this Los Angeles garage-pop quartet’s complete collection of recordings, isn’t that cool. Oh, you’re wondering who these guys are/were? Well, obviously they were around during the first wave of British rock, when the Beatles, Stones and Who first took over the planet. But Sons Of Adam were working out of L.A., as stated above, led by guitarist Randy Holden (touted as one of the era’s great unsung guitar heroes, he eventually wound up with Blue Cheer, considered by most rock historians to be the fathers of heavy metal). “Everybody Needs Someone To Love” is really fun, think an alternate-universe collaboration between the Stones and Jet, and yeah, the guitar sounds fantastic for its time. “Mr. Sun” has a definite Black Crowes feel to it, brandishing another four-chord guitar riff that’s a bit more advanced than the average Kinks joint, much like everything else on board. A true historical artifact, great stuff. A+

Playlist

• Yowza, we’ve actually got a pretty impressive lineup of releases coming out this Friday, Aug. 19, or at least releases from bands and whatnots that people have actually heard of, for a change. I mean, don’t think I’m unaware that some of y’all are all like, “I’ve never heard of this band, why does he write about them” about some of the acts covered in this space, because after all, some of you people actually just walk up to me and say it. But see, you have to take into consideration that we hit the tipping point of too many new bands putting out records somewhere in the late ’90s, probably, and now there are definitely way too many bands and albums and snobby vinyl versions and box sets coming out all the time. Every week it’s a million new albums from bands you and I have never heard of, mostly bands that sound like other bands, and I have to investigate them, because that’s what this award-winning column is for, after all, isn’t it? I know, it can be annoying, reading about bands you’ve never heard of, but I think we have a special thing going, you and I, don’t you? Here, I’ll even be nice this week and talk first about an album from British synthpop that all you Aughts kids will know about, unless of course the only things you were just listening to were Lil Kim or Evanescence. Yes, I’m of course speaking about British synthpop group Hot Chip, whose new LP, Freakout/Release, is on its way! Of course, the band started out as a sloppy, barely listenable indie-tronica mess, which was what they still were when I first had the misfortune of encountering them in 2008, upon the release of Made In The Dark, an album that was inspired by Prince’s Sign O’ The Times LP and the Beatles’ “White Album” or at least that what they said. MITD was probably the most difficult review I’ve ever written, because it was considered genius by most hipsters, but I really hated it and struggled to find kind things to say about it so that I wouldn’t look like a rock ’n’ roll Luddite. In the end I was vindicated, as most hipster writers finally admitted it was quite noticeably flawed, but anyway, that brings us to now, and Freakout/Release, with its single, “Down,” a stompy, funky-ish number that’s a lot more like Prince than any of that earlier trash I had to listen to. It’s got an ’80s vibe, just like everything else today, but it’s not bad, so let’s just leave it at that.

Panic! At the Disco is of course one of the world’s top emo bands, basically a solo venture for Utah-bred singer Brendon Urie. If you ask me, he won’t rest until he’s all the members of My Chemical Romance in one body, and, like Hot Chip, all his old music is pretty dumb, but he’s got a new one coming out right now, an album called Viva Las Vengeance. The title track is straining so hard to be a Killers song that I feel obliged to be nice to it, so here it is: It’s acceptable.

• Here we go, California indie-folk band The Mountain Goats are cool, I already said so before these guys got really big. Their new album Bleed Out includes the single “Training Montage,” a classic example of their ability not to suck, it’s half hayloft-indie and half midtempo rockout, quite decent.

• We’ll wrap up this week with Heartmind, the latest from rather innovative indie-mishmash songwriter Cass McCombs. “Unproud Warrior,” the single, is boozy blues/country-drone a la Kevin Morby at Chris Isaak speed. It’s got enough going on layer-wise that it’s not a complete waste.

If you’re in a local band, now’s a great time to let me know about your EP, your single, whatever’s on your mind. Let me know how you’re holding yourself together without being able to play shows or jam with your homies. Send a recipe for keema matar. Message me on Twitter (@esaeger) or Facebook (eric.saeger.9).

Manchester International Film Festival

The Manchester International Film Festival brings shorts, documentaries, feature films, cult faves and a search for Adam Sandler to the Rex Theatre (23 Amherst St. in Manchester) Friday, Aug. 12, through Sunday, Aug. 14. A ticket for a one-day pass costs $20 or get a weekend pass for $50. See palacetheatre.org/film.

In last week’s (Aug. 4) issue of the Hippo, we talked to festival organizers about how the event came together and to some of the filmmakers about their entries. Find the e-edition of the issue at hippopress.com; the story starts on page 10.

In addition to the films, see a star of stage and screen live in person at “An Evening with John Lithgow” at the Palace Theatre (80 Hanover St. in Manchester; palacetheatre.org) on Saturday, Aug. 13, at 7:30 p.m. Tickets for the John Lithgow event, which start at $50 (and are separate from the Saturday pass purchased by itself), include a pass to all festival events.

Screenings on the schedule include these:

Friday, Aug. 12

Sherlock Jr. (1924) a silent film directed by Buster Keaton with live musical accompaniment by Jeff Rapsis at 5:45 p.m.

Slap Shot (1977) the ice hockey movie starring Paul Newman, screening with live comedic commentary from comedian Jimmy Dunn, Roadkill from Greg and the Morning Buzz and retired NHL Referee Mark Riley at 7:30 p.m.

Saturday, Aug. 13

Shrek (2001) at noon (with $5 tickets)

Finding Sandler (2022) a documentary about a director who passed up having a drink with Adam Sandler back in 1998 and decides to fix that mistake. 6:30 p.m.

An American Werewolf in London (1981) 9:05 p.m.

Sunday, Aug. 14

Love Is Strange (2014) which stars John Lithgow, Alfred Molina and Marisa Tomei. 1 p.m.

Haute Couture (2021) a French film, presented in partnership with the New Hampshire Jewish Film Festival. 3 p.m.

Find a longer list featuring films including the shorts on the schedule in the story from Aug. 4 and more specifics on times at the Palace’s event website.

Featured photo: Love is Strange.

Stay in the loop!

Get FREE weekly briefs on local food, music,

arts, and more across southern New Hampshire!