Category: Pop

Noise, by Daniel Kahneman

Noise, by Daniel Kahneman, Olivier Sibony and Cass R. Sunstein (Little, Brown Spark, 398 pages)

Five years ago, writing in Harvard Business Review, the esteemed psychologist and economist Daniel Kahneman joined with a few other enviably smart people to discuss the concept of noise: not the kind your neighbors make while you’re trying to sleep, but the kind that clouds judgments, sometimes to devastating effect.

This kind of noise, as Kahneman describes it, is the wide variance in outcomes that we might think should be similar but instead are all over the map. One of the most obvious examples of this is in criminal justice, where one person might get a 20-year sentence for a crime, while another gets five years and community service. That makes the criminal justice system particularly noisy, in Kahneman terms.

But even if you don’t plan on going to jail, noise in human judgment probably affects you, as people such as doctors and loan officers also have wide discretion in their decisions. It’s not just unusual — it’s unnervingly common— for physicians to offer different diagnoses a few weeks apart when researchers present them with the exact same case.

And completely unrelated things such as whether people have eaten recently and whether their sports team won over the weekend can affect the decisions they make.

It’s an important subject and one worthy of consideration, more so if you’re in a noisy profession or at the mercy of one. And so fans of Kahneman, whose 2011 book Thinking, Fast and Slow was universally lauded, might be excited to delve into his latest, Noise, A Flaw in Human Judgment, written with Olivier Sibony and Cass Sunstein. Unfortunately, most of us would be better off just reading the Harvard Business Review article from 2016, which lays out the principles of noise without causing the reader unnecessary pain.

Noise is a scholarly book written for a scholarly audience that is at the forefront of the literary conversation only because Thinking, Fast and Slow was so well-received. Had this manuscript fallen into the hands of a publisher who knew nothing of the authors or their past credits, it would have been cut in half or, equally likely, still languish in the slush pile.

To their credit, the authors did try to simplify their subject for a mass audience. Or at least one of them did. You never know, with three authors, who is writing at any given point, and Noise is erratic in its understandability. You might say the book itself is noisy.

Some chapters read like AP psychology, others like an Ivy League dissertation. (Example: “You may have noticed that the decomposition of system noise into level noise and pattern noise follows the same logic as the error equation in the previous chapter, which decomposed error into bias and noise.”) Not that they didn’t give us warning. In the opening to the book, the authors suggest some readers might want to skip the first four parts of the book (there are six) and go straight to Part 5, essentially skipping half the book.

But people who do that will miss some of the book’s interesting content, including how the free-throw averages of NBA players have the wide variability of noise despite the hoop always being 10 feet away and the ball always weighing 22 ounces. That’s because the players are susceptible to the same lottery-like forces that we are in our daily lives. We are not the same people that we were 10 years ago, or even 10 minutes ago, because of variables such as mood, stress and fatigue. So decisions in ordinary life can be noisy as well, although they can rarely be documented as such.

So what to do about this problem? Kahneman, Sibony and Sunstein have some solutions. One is to adopt the social-science concept known as the “wisdom of crowds.” Researchers have shown that while individuals may not be great at guessing things, whether the number of gumballs in a glass bowl or the number of airports in the U.S., as a group we come close, when researchers combine individual guesses into an average or mean. Taking the average of four independent judgments can reduce noise by half, the authors write.

Outside a social-science lab, the best way to leverage this finding in our daily life is to get other people’s opinions (independent ones, not people with the proverbial dog in the fight) and make a decision that best represents the mean. If you don’t have time or inclination to consult others, social science has another solution: create an “inner crowd” by coming up with your own best guess, and then basically challenging your own decision: Assume your first decision is wrong and consider why. Then make a different decision, based on these reasons. Often, the best decision will lie in the space between your first and second choices.

That’s one strategy in creating a personal form of “decision hygiene,” which the authors suggest. But they write about a nebulous topic and concede that it’s nearly impossible to know how good decision hygiene helps. “Correcting a well-identified bias may at least give you a tangible sense of achieving something. But the procedures that reduce noise will not. They will, statistically, prevent many errors. Yet you will never know which errors. Noise is an invisible enemy, and preventing the assault of an invisible enemy can yield only an invisible victory.”

Like Kahneman’s previous work, for which he won a Nobel Prize in 2002, the theories put forth in Noise will be considered groundbreaking and this book will likely win awards that have nothing to do with its readability. Outside the academy, it’s a hard row to hoe, but there’s value in skimming. C

Book Notes

The 2020 Olympic Games, postponed because of the pandemic, kick off this weekend, but don’t feel too sorry for the athletes competing a year late and without spectators.

Things could be worse, and in fact have been, as you will learn in Total Olympics by Jeremy Fuchs (Workman, 336 pages), who promises to reveal “every obscure, hilarious, dramatic and inspiring tale worth knowing.”

The worst in recent memory has to be the 1972 Olympics, the year of the Munich massacre. But in terms of sheer hassle and inconvenience for the athletes, consider 1948, when London finally got around to holding the 1944 games (canceled because of the war). The city was so spent and countries were so broke that this was dubbed the “Austerity Games” with athletes making their own uniforms and bringing their own food. But they pulled it off and let it be known that a Dutch mother of two won four gold medals in track and field and became known internationally as “the Flying Housewife.” It looks to be an entertaining read between commercials.

For a narrower look, specific to track-and-field athletes, check out The Fastest Men on Earth by Neil Duncanson (Welbeck, 384 pages). It’s a new paperback that tells the stories of 25 Olympic sprinters, including superstar Usain Bolt.

Also worth a look: Olympic Pride, American Prejudice by Deborah Riley Draper and Travis Thrasher (Atria, 400 pages), billed as “the untold story of 18 African Americans who defied Jim Crow and Adolf Hitler to compete in the 1936 Berlin Olympics.” The hardcover edition came out last year; a paperback will be issued in September.

And for those of you with zero interest in the Olympics, celebrated science writer Sam Kean has a new book out this month. The Icepick Surgeon (Little, Brown and Co., 369 pages) is an entertaining, if deeply disturbing, look at rogue scientists throughout the ages. An introductory quote by Dr. Thomas Rivers sets it up nicely: “All I can say is, it’s against the law to do many things, but the law winks when a reputable man wants to do a scientific experiment.”

Books

Author events

• JOYCE MAYNARD Author presents Count the Ways. Toadstool Bookstore, 12 Depot Square, Peterborough. Sat., July 24, 11 a.m. Visit toadbooks.com or call 924-3543.

• GIGI GEORGES Author presents Downeast: Five Maine Girls and the Unseen Story of Rural America. Toadstool Bookstore, Somerset Plaza, 375 Amherst St., Route 101A, Nashua. Sat., July 24, 2 to 4 p.m. Visit toadbooks.com or call 673-1734.

• JESS KIMBALL Author presents My Pseudo-College Experience. Virtual event, hosted by Toadstool Bookstores, located in Nashua, Peterborough and Keene. Tues., July 27, 6 to 7 p.m. Visit toadbooks.com or call 673-1734.

• CATHLEEN ELLE Author presents Shattered Together. Virtual event, hosted by Toadstool Bookstores, located in Nashua, Peterborough and Keene. Thurs., July 29, 6 p.m. Visit toadbooks.com or call 673-1734.

• KATE SHAFFER & DEREK BISSONNETTE Authors present The Maine Farm Table Cookbook. Outside the Music Hall Historic Theater, 28 Chestnut St., Portsmouth. Thurs., Aug. 12, 6 p.m. Tickets cost $60 for a small table (two people), $120 for a medium table (four people), $180 for a large table (six people). Visit themusichall.org or call 436-2400.

• MONA AWAD Author presents All’s Well. The Music Hall Historic Theater, 28 Chestnut St., Portsmouth. Thurs., Sept. 2, 7 p.m. Tickets cost $13.75. Visit themusichall.org or call 436-2400.

Poetry

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

• SLAM FREE OR DIE Series of open mic nights for poets and spoken-word artists. Stark Tavern, 500 N. Commercial St., Manchester. Weekly. Thursday, doors open and sign-ups beginning at 7 p.m., open mic at 8 p.m. The series also features several poetry slams every month. Events are open to all ages. Cover charge of $3 to $5 at the door, which can be paid with cash or by Venmo. Visit facebook.com/slamfreeordie, e-mail slamfreeordie@gmail.com or call 858-3286.

Book Clubs

• BOOKERY Online. Monthly. Third Thursday, 6 p.m. Bookstore based in 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 elizabethw@goffstownlibrary.com or visit goffstownlibrary.com

Featured photo: Noise.

Album Reviews 21/07/22

Simon Moullier Trio, Countdown (Fresh Sound New Talent Records)

Set of recitations of jazz classics from one of the hottest vibraphonists around, whether or not there’s supposed to be such a thing. To laypeople that means xylophone, but there actually is a difference: the bars of a xylophone are made of wood, whereas a vibraphone uses aluminum bars. You’re probably assuming these are old people playing this stuff, but nope, they look like any trio of twee nerds you’d immediately picture, which means that the vibes are still alive whether you want them or not. As any snobby jazzophile knows by now, my only go-to reference for vibes is Lionel Hampton, but I do like jazz classics (Coltrane’s “Nature Boy” and two Monk songs are here), which these guys treat in fine style. The trio thrums along agreeably, not trying anything funny; the effect is hypnotic, and despite the all-acoustic instrumentation, it does feel electronic. Best bit: Someone (I assume Moullier) often absently scats accompaniment with his voice in very sedating fashion (Charlie Parker’s “The Song Is You” most prominently). A — Eric W. Saeger

Falkner Evans, Invisible Words (Consolidated Artists Records)

Solo outing from the New York City-based jazz pianist, formerly of the Western swing band Asleep At The Wheel and a third cousin to author William Faulkner. The lonely zen of even being involved in the jazz world in the first place is distilled to its very essence here; the record is wholly dedicated to Evans’ wife, Linda, who died by suicide last year. Having been in a relationship for 16 years now, this isn’t pleasant for me to cover; I can vividly imagine what it was like for Evans in the aftermath, fleeing the couple’s Greenwich Village flat to re-gather his life at a relative’s house in Auburn, Mass. He might not have touched a piano again to date, but the relative had a beater in the basement, and suddenly there were three songs, and then a personal covenant, a record he had to complete. Needless to say, gentle, deeply thoughtful soliloquies comprise this album, capturing times spent together at their favorite library; etchings of her very image in sound. God, life is short, isn’t it? A+

PLAYLIST

• The July 23 new-CD-release day approacheth, and with it will come albums, one or two of which are made by artists you actually care about, while the rest will come from bands and singers whom you hope get eaten by Godzilla. I am in that same boat with you, praying for Godzilla, and meanwhile practicing my medieval-knight-speak by using words like “approacheth,” because I figure hey, if ’90s music can make a comeback, so can talking like King Arthur, right? OK, kids, let’s have you all sit down with your Archer lunch boxes and Coco Puffs-flavored vape-pens and have a look at this week’s reading of the cultural obituary column, which we’ll begin with a puzzled sideways glance at Downhill From Everywhere, the new album from ancient arena-pop artifact Jackson Browne! You of course know Browne from giant dentist-office hits like “Runnin’ On Empty,” “Rock Me On The Water,” and the absolutely detestable “Doctor My Eyes,” which is usually only heard at children’s dentist’s offices, because a 1997 Harvard study proved that the song’s sleepy, astonishingly unmelodic refrain was shown to coax 5-year-olds into abandoning any notion of escaping the waiting room and running away to become train-robbers. Like so many other hyper-privileged rock stars, Browne is a former Los Angeles Father of the Year, having dumped his second wife for Daryl Hannah, who once played a one-eyed psychopath in a movie that takes six hours to watch. But what of Downhill From Everywhere? I don’t know, but the title track has music on it, a mixture of Rolling Stones and Steely Dan, with lyrics that are basically a checklist of things Rob Reiner tweets to his parasocial public, such as that we need oceans for some reason and all that stuff. It’s totally woke, guys, it really is.

• Mega Bog is Erin Birgy, a Pacific Northwest avant-pop chick who’s been compared to Bowie, Tim Buckley, Sea And Cake, Joni Mitchell, Steely Dan and a few dozen others. Not sure why she isn’t also compared to Ludwig von Beethoven and whatever, mallard duck calls, you know, anything that makes sounds, but that’s what happens when music critics have no idea what they’re doing and resort to babbling incoherent, obfuscatory crazyspeak, all just so that readers will think they’re in good hands. Whatever, let’s go see if “Station To Station,” the single from her new album, Life and Another, is awesome or awful. Huh, it’s a formula that involves Kate Bush, ’90s-Nintendo-techno and trip-hop, I guess. It sort of — OK, it sucks, is what it does. Anyhow.

• Everyone gather around, it’s mega-old folk-rock mollusk David Crosby. For Free is his new album, and I think everyone reading this should help make the album’s title come true by not buying it and allowing the “record company” to toss the 10 copies they actually manufactured into the dumpster (no way am I previewing any of those dumb songs, so don’t give me those droopy doggie eyes. Nuh uh.).

• Our parting shot this week is California skate-punk band Descendents, with 9th & Walnut, their eighth full-length. “Nightage” is a fine-enough Ramones-style song. Sorry, what? Yes, it took them 50 years to release eight albums. Ahem.

Retro Playlist

Ten years ago this week, room-temperature-IQ Wilco-wannabe TV-dramedy-backgrounders Fountains of Wayne release their fifth nice obedient album Sky Full of Holes. Since you forgot about it three seconds after you read it, I’ll remind you that I said the single “Someone’s Gonna Break Your Heart,” “is a typical example of this easily forgotten outfit’s nonsense, because it sounds like a few extras from Scrubs playing Rock Band to an old Oasis B-side.” Mind you, that was my trying to be as kind as possible, so keep that in mind if you’re going to drag me on social media.

Wait, I take that back; I’m keen on any reason for quitting social media forever and communicating by fax, so do have at it.

But that album wasn’t the big news that week. There were two feature reviews, the first being Days To Recall, from Justin Hines, who was at the time a staple on PBS pledge drives. He was born with Larsen Syndrome, and he’s still around, making music that’s “honky-soulful in the manner of Amos Lee or Jeff Buckley,” his voice no more technically remarkable than your average American Idol fifth runner-up, but he’s pretty special when he rocks out with his “obedient, gospel-tinged blues-rock.”

The other marquee contestant was Australian singer Abbe May, whose Design Desire LP didn’t fare so well. Falsely “touted this as a White Stripes-style blues-rock assault,” it probably would have rated a lot higher if the engineer hadn’t given the impression that he’d just “woken up from an all-nighter with Salem.” It received a rare C+ grade from me (I rarely ever rate things that low, because my mission isn’t to destroy struggling artists), mostly because the reverb on her voice sounded absolutely awful.

So take note, local bands, either produce your records yourself or hire an engineer who isn’t a complete twit.

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).

The Plot, by Jean Hanff Korelitz

The Plot, by Jean Hanff Korelitz (Celedon Books, 320 pages)

Writers, for the most part, live boring lives. We sit at our desks and imagine a world that may or may not exist. The last time we read about a writer having an “adventure” was in Misery by Stephen King.

And we all know how that one turned out — ouch.

Still, writers are my people, they are my tribe and if a fictional suspense thriller comes out where the main protagonist is a writer? I’m in. Such is the case with The Plot by Jean Hanff Korelitz.

The plot of The Plot is a bit convoluted, but that’s what makes it so interesting. A one-hit wonder novel writer named Jacob (Jake) Bonner stalls on writing his next book for years. He admits that for a writer, his best days may be behind, which sends him into a depressive spiral. To make money and barely survive he “teaches” (read shows up) at an MFA program for writers.

Part of what Jake teaches about writing fiction is plot. Writers all know that there are only so many plot lines out there. The quest, the voyage and return, coming of age, overcoming the monster, etc. All plots fall within those boundaries and we are taught that no other plot lines exist.

One of his students, a brash, rather uneducated brute, tells Jake his idea for a book. The plot, he insists, is one that has never been written before and is so good that it won’t matter if the writing is not proficient — the book will sell.

Hmm, that must be one heck of a plot.

The student tells Jake his story’s plot and Jake has to agree: It’s a plot line that has never been identified. It’s really good. The student is right to be cocky; he’s going to make a lot of money from the book. Even if it’s poorly written.

After the program, the student moves on and Jake continues to sink into a depression.

Years later, Jake wonders why there has never been any talk about his student’s book with the unique plot. After doing a little research he discovers that his former student had died a few months after the writer’s program. The book was never written.

So Jake writes his student’s story. It’s important to note that he doesn’t plagiarize the words of his student, but he does use the idea of his plot, in much the same way that The Lion King uses the plot of Hamlet. Just like the cocky student predicted, the plot of the story is so good that, especially when done by an accomplished writer, the book zooms to the top of every best seller list. Jake is in hot demand, he’s on TV, a movie by an A-list director is optioned. Everything is wonderful! Jake even finds a supportive fan girlfriend who seems to fill in all the holes in his world. Life is definitely good.

Until Jake gets a mysterious email with the message: “I know what you’ve done, you stole someone else’s story.” This is where the real action starts. We get to watch a writer devolve from guilt (the absolute worst thing you can accuse a writer of is plagiarism, even if technically it’s not true).

The messages keep coming. Jake begins to investigate. If the original student with the plot idea is dead then who is sending the messages? What follows are twists and turns and unexpected happenings that will keep you flipping those pages.

And yes, The Plot is a twist in itself. As it is told, it appears to contain what could be a new plot structure (or at the very least plot device) because at the very end, the one thing that is never supposed to happen in a hero’s tale happens. I literally gasped because we are all taught you just can’t do that.

While you don’t need to be a writer to enjoy this book, having some literary background on plot construction makes it that much more enjoyable.

Short chapters that switch between the current story and the book that Jake wrote work together to weave a series of events that you don’t necessarily know are connected until the very end. While I did suspect something was “wrong” I did not figure out what was going on until it was explained, making this a truly suspenseful read.

I love page-turners and this book was one for me. Started it one evening, finished it the next.

Intelligent, entertaining, swiftly moving — I wouldn’t be surprised if life imitates written art and a movie is made out of this thought-provoking one. A

– Reviewed by Wendy E. N. Thomas

Book Notes

Here’s a tip: If you want to know how a book is really selling, pay no mind to the rating that crops up at the top of the page on Amazon: the one that says a book is No. 1 in a specific category such as “pillow manufacturers for Donald Trump.”

It’s the rating under “Product Details” that tells you how a book is performing, and sometimes this is even more reliable than what the New York Times bestseller list says, a publisher told me this week. No. 1, of course, is best, but anything up to 1,000, give or take a few hundred, is decent.

That said, books that suddenly show up in the top 10, such as last week’s debut of How I Saved The Worldby Jesse Waters (Broadside, 320 pages), can leave some people scratching their heads. If you’re a Fox News viewer, you know Waters as a co-host of The Five; if not, you’ve likely never heard of him.

Similarly, people who vaguely know Bill O’Reilly as someone who was supposed to be disgraced may be surprised to see him holding forth on The New York Times’ bestseller list for the past month with Killing the Mob (co-written with Martin Dugard, St. Martin’s Press, 304 pages).

Fox News did fire O’Reilly in 2017 after charges of sexual harassment, but he now has a podcast and evidently a loyal following for his series of “Killing” books, which include Killing Kennedy, Killing Patton, Killing Jesus, Killing Reagan, Killing Crazy Horse and so forth. The most recent sales show there’s plenty of life left in this series.

Other interesting fare out this month includes a provocative new book by Michael Pollan: This is Your Mind on Plants (Penguin, 288 pages), which is not, as it seems, about a plant-based diet, but about the mind-altering properties of caffeine, opium and mescaline. His latest interest in hallucinogens is a sharp turn from his early, more mainstream books such as The Omnivore’s Dilemma (Penguin, 464 pages) and In Defense of Food (Penguin, 256 pages).

And a novel based on the 2019 film Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, written by director Quentin Tarantino, is out in paperback (Harper Perennial, 400 pages). It’s Tarantino’s first week of fiction and is described by the publisher as “hilarious, delicious and brutal” — just like his films.

Books

Author events

• MEGAN MIRANDA Author presents Such a Quiet Place. Hosted by The Music Hall in Portsmouth. Tues., July 20, 7 p.m. Virtual. Tickets cost $5. Visit themusichall.org or call 436-2400.

• JOYCE MAYNARD Author presents Count the Ways. Toadstool Bookstore, 12 Depot Square, Peterborough. Sat., July 24, 11 a.m. Visit toadbooks.com or call 924-3543.

• GIGI GEORGES Author presents Downeast: Five Maine Girls and the Unseen Story of Rural America. Toadstool Bookstore, Somerset Plaza, 375 Amherst St., Route 101A, Nashua. Sat., July 24, 2 to 4 p.m. Visit toadbooks.com or call 673-1734.

• JESS KIMBALL Author presents My Pseudo-College Experience. Virtual event, hosted by Toadstool Bookstores, located in Nashua, Peterborough and Keene. Tues., July 27, 6 to 7 p.m. Visit toadbooks.com or call 673-1734.

• CATHLEEN ELLE Author presents Shattered Together. Virtual event, hosted by Toadstool Bookstores, located in Nashua, Peterborough and Keene. Thurs., July 29, 6 p.m. Visit toadbooks.com or call 673-1734.

Poetry

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

• SLAM FREE OR DIE Series of open mic nights for poets and spoken-word artists. Stark Tavern, 500 N. Commercial St., Manchester. Weekly. Thursday, doors open and sign-ups beginning at 7 p.m., open mic at 8 p.m. The series also features several poetry slams every month. Events are open to all ages. Cover charge of $3 to $5 at the door, which can be paid with cash or by Venmo. Visit facebook.com/slamfreeordie, e-mail slamfreeordie@gmail.com or call 858-3286.

Book Clubs

• BOOKERY Online. Monthly. Third Thursday, 6 p.m. Bookstore based in 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 elizabethw@goffstownlibrary.com or visit goffstownlibrary.com

• BELKNAP MILL Online. Monthly. Last Wednesday, 6 p.m. Based in Laconia. Email bookclub@belknapmill.org.

• NASHUA PUBLIC LIBRARY Online. Monthly. Second Friday, 3 p.m. Call 589-4611, email information@nashualibrary.org or visit nashualibrary.org.

Featured photo: Crying in H Mart.

At the Sofaplex 21/07/15

Fear Street Part 1: 1994 & Fear Street Part 2: 1978 (R)

Kiana Madeira, Benjamin Flores Jr.

Also Olivia Scott Welch, Julia Rehwald, Fred Hechinger, Ashley Zukerman and, primarily in the second movie, Gillian Jacobs.

In 1994, the town of Shadyside is once again dealing with the sudden and gruesome deaths of a group of people — in this case, several people at the local mall — at the hands of someone who never showed any particular kill-y tendencies before. It’s the Shadyside curse, say residents; the town has seen serial killers before, one every couple of decades it seems. For Deena (Madeira), it’s just further proof that she lives in a cruddy town and has a go-nowhere future, especially since her girlfriend Sam (Welch) moved to neighboring Sunnyvale, a town full of big homes and rich kids and seemingly zero serial killers. Even though the mall killer is shot and killed after his initial spree, a sense of danger still pervades the town, especially after Sunnyvale kids start to torment the Shadysiders with a skeleton mask similar to the one found on the killer. When the skeleton mask figure continues to appear, Deena and her friends start to wonder if it’s really a prank or if, in the words of a note slipped by Sheriff Nick Goode (Zukerman) into the mail slot of the reclusive C. Berman (Jacobs), “it’s happening again” and all the killings are a part of the legend of Sarah Fier, a woman hanged as a witch in the area centuries earlier.

Certainly, that’s what some of the kids thought in 1978. As Deena, Sam, Deena’s brother Josh (Flores) and others fight the skeleton masked killer, they find a mention of C. Berman, the person who survived the last round of serial killings in Shadyside. They reach out to try to get some advice for how to fight whatever it is they’re fighting.

In 1978, several kids were murdered at Camp Nightwing (I mean, of course they were, with a name like that). Sisters Cindy (Emily Rudd) and Ziggy (Sadie Sink) Berman were at the camp, Cindy as a counselor and Ziggy as a much-bullied camper. As the camp prepares for the “uhm, huh”-ily named camp game Color War (a kind of Capture the Flag that pits Sunnyvalers against Shadysiders), camp nurse Mary Lane (Jordana Spiro) seems to have some kind of mental break and tries to kill camp counselor and Cindy’s boyfriend Tommy Slater (McCabe Slye), saying that one way or another he’s going to die that night anyway. Ziggy is sad to see this happen to Mary, one of the few people in camp who has been nice to her, and is drawn to a notebook on Mary’s desk that has notes and maps related to Sarah Fier. Mary’s daughter Ruby Lane (Jordyn DiNatale) was the serial killer during a spate of killings in the 1950s and Mary seems to have been investigating the town’s murderous history and the curse that Sarah Fier supposedly put on what was then the town of Union before it separated into Sunnyvale and Shadyside. As the sisters, Tommy and fellow counselors start to look into Mary’s findings, murder once again takes hold of someone.

These classic slashers are not typically my kind of movie and this is very much a classic slasher, with some real gory, red corn syrupy deaths. But there is a pluckiness to these movies, sort of like the Scream movies without the self-conscious meta commentary. The leads — Deen, Josh, Sam and their buddies in the first movie, the Berman sisters and some other camp counselors in the second — are appealing and are able to balance the tension and jokiness that give these movies their energy. I was also impressed by how the first two movies fit together and tease the third, Fear Street Part 3: 1666, which will be released Friday, July 16, on Netflix. So far, these movies are two solid entries in a potential triple feature. B+ Available on Netflix.

Album Reviews 21/07/15

Assorted Orchids, Assorted Orchids (Whale Watch Records)

Debut album from Boston-based folkie T. McWilliams, whose target audience is the weird-beard acoustic-guitar set that lumps together such debatably disparate acts as Mississippi John Hurt and Nick Drake. He’s lived in a lot of places, including Los Angeles, New York City, Shanghai and Scotland, which would explain the boho feel of these pieces, but it’s nevertheless not a fluffy record at all. There’s real precision in play when McWilliams is plucking his steel and nylon strings and applying his delicate croak to such vivid lyrics as “I entered the garden of scarlet chrysanthemums opening wide” (“The Mighty Kingdom”), and sure, we’ve heard that kind of thing before, but McWilliams’ layering is often divine: It’s not often that one hears incidental finger-picked arpeggios used so decisively that one gets the sense that they’re listening to high-end guitar-tronica, not just another contender for Nick Drake’s throne (not that you’d want to miss this if Drake’s your thing, certainly). Brilliant stuff. A- — Eric W. Saeger

Styx, Crash Of The Crown (UME Records)

If we’re gonna be real about this legendary Chicago arena-rock band, the default diss has always been that they’re a lite version of Yes. But you know what, they do try, and always have, and shut up anyway, because they didn’t have Bill Bruford or Chris Squire, and neither does your band, so chill. I was surprised to see so many other reviewers pointing out that original keyboardist Dennis DeYoung (the guy who sang “Mr. Roboto,” “Come Sail Away” and all the original hits) is gone, being that it’s been 21 years already, but they have their word quotas to fill, and besides, they’re still a fun band to see live. This is their 17th album, and actually quite the inspired effort. Once you get to the middle of the second tune (“The Monster”) you can’t help noticing that this thing is something of an homage to Yes’s Close To The Edge: woozy, busy keyboards; similar level of riffing; epic-gentle vocal harmonies, and hold it, the drummer is doing some very cool stuff. They’re still kickin’, folks. A+

PLAYLIST

• July 16 is the next all-important date for album releases, only I’m not supposed to call them “albums” anymore, because otherwise I’m a boomer. What that means is that I’m simply going to have to keep calling them albums, because the level of senility in my current boomer state allows me, by law, to act in accordance with my own desires, whether it be calling mixtapes “albums” or throwing a fit at the 7-Eleven if someone’s ahead of me in line buying a million lottery tickets. In other words I can start howling at the ceiling and eating a copy of the newest issue of Teen Vogue magazine until the awkward 20-something clerk comes over and asks me if I’m OK, and nothing will happen other than that because I am a boomer who loves hitting pause on the DVR machine so I can read the hundred-billion warnings on every pharmaceutical ad, and I remember when albums were called albums, and music was awesome, like the mellow tunes of Pat Boone and Spanky & Our Gang! I remember Donny and Marie Osmond too, all you 4chan trolls, secretly making fun of my words! Well, let’s see you make fun of all the edgy and groovy words I’m going to use in my first review this week, as I discuss Hideaway, the new album from skinny San Diego hipster trio Wavves! This is their seventh mixtape — oh wait, they call their records “albums,” not mixtapes, silly me, does anyone have a box of prunes I could borrow, for my digestive health? Whatever, I’ve heard a few of their things, but if I recall, their songs are only slightly more compelling than Grizzly Bear, but I may be wrong, because I’m so totally old and crazy! The band’s last record, You’re Welcome, climbed to No. 95 on the Billboard charts, not that that’s much of an achievement, now that there are only 98 people left in the U.S. who still actually buy albums, but congratulations, guys! Wow, check that out, I wasn’t expecting the title track to be jagged and grungy, but it’s definitely cool, sort of like Nevermind-era Nirvana but without Kurt Cobain’s raw/edgy voice. Spoiler alert, what’ll happen here is a bunch of people will read some stupid review in Nylon or whatnot and start to believe Wavves is awesome, and then they’ll hear actual grunge songs from the ’90s and realize they were lied to, because all the writers at Nylon are corporate-paid hacks, and then we’ll see that long-overdue ’90s music revival, while I sit here eating bowls of pudding and pharmaceuticals and cackling like a witch at all of — what was I saying again?

• Canadian indie quartet The Zolas releases Come Back To Life on Friday! It’s taken them five years to put this album out, their first since 2016’s Swooner, so it’s probably awesome! Nope, it isn’t. The title single is like Grizzly Bear trying to sing through kazoos. My stomach is lurching, it really is.

• Oh great, a new Barenaked Ladies album! Boy, how did music ever survive this long without a new mixtape or cassette or whatever from the millionth band to repackage Peter, Paul and Mary and resell it to the ’90s-college-rock crowd? Right, the new LP is Detour de Force, whose single is “New Disaster,” an ornate tapestry of 1980s Police-ripoff stuff. Moving on.

• Finally, it’s John Mayer, with his latest LP, Sob Rock! Teaser single “Last Train Home” rips off everything to do with Blue Oyster Cult’s “Shooting Shark,” but Mayer will get away with it, because anyone who’s old enough to recognize “Shooting Shark” is either in a rest home or babbling erroneous nonsense about mixtapes in this newspaper.

Retro Playlist

Reminiscing back almost-exactly-whatever eight years ago to 2013, the first order of business was giving a quick exam to Gypsy-punkers Gogol Bordello’s then-spanking-new LP, Pura Vida Conspiracy, their seventh. The album’s single, “Lost Innocent World,” is “a rather subdued version of their usual ‘oi oi oi’ spazzings, not that lead singer Eugene Hütz doesn’t sound the same as always, specifically what Serj Tankian would sound like if he were sort of fun.”

That and a few other review-snippets aside, I was forced by job description to deal with an entire album from Kentucky band Seabird, called Troubled Days. I think I disposed of it rather fairly and adroitly, to wit: “More clean-teen mall-indie for the overhead speakers at TGI Fridays. The intentions of these two Kentuckians couldn’t be more obvious; maybe a ‘big time’ Budweiser commercial spot featuring one of their tunes and they’d call it a rock star career, whether it be one of their more Strokes-like tunes or maybe even one of the debatable curveballs, the tricks to which generally involve mildly interesting guitar sounds more than anything else.” In other words you’ve heard this kind of nonsense a billion times at restaurants, and we can start wrapping up here.

The other “attraction,” for lack of a secret code word with which I could handily signify my displeasure to you, was Eric & Magill’s Baggage and Clothes. “Nerd-indie of a sort that deepens the immersive feel of Animal Collective’s trip,” I yawned, spit spraying everywhere, “this accomplished by incorporating a different, more mellow notion of swirly layering and a few elements of Simon and Garfunkel’s mawkish solitude.” (If it’s any consolation to any E&M band members who might be reading, I wouldn’t have ever thought of you again if it hadn’t been for this little stroll down memory lane.)

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).

Album Reviews 21/07/08

Velvet Insane, Rock ‘n’ Roll Glitter Suit (Sound Pollution Records)

Wait, can it be something cool for a change? I mean, it’s not like a few dozen old-school blues-based records don’t waltz into my email every month, and sure, I usually just send them straight to Trash, knowing in my bones that none of them will be the next New York Dolls or Kiss (come on, millennials and Zoomers, get in touch with your generational disgruntlements already), or, on occasion, I’ll listen to one out of misguided benevolence and pay the price by experiencing black-hole-level suckage I never would have imagined being physically possible. This one had promise, a Swedish band that was somehow able to “entice” former Kiss fixture Bruce Kulick into hopping a flight and shredding some lead guitar in the studio (yes, I did keep in mind the fact that everyone in the arts has their price — remember when German hack filmmaker Uwe Boll fooled Ben freaking Kingsley into joining the cast of BloodRayne?). The results? Well, it’s basically Poison for dummies. Opener “Driving Down The Mountain” had me going for a second, like I thought it was going to be a punkabilly thing, but then it turned into Trixter or whatever. Great ambiance for your backyard barbecue for when you want the kiddies to spazz all over the place and annoy your spouse. B- — Eric W. Saeger

Blood Honey, Blood Honey EP (self-released)

Debut release for a Los Angeles boy-girl ’80s-technopop duo which, as is so common these days, comes with a couple of interesting backstories (his: he was studying cognitive neuroscience but ultimately dropped out of a Ph.D. program to make records; hers: tragic story about surviving ovarian cancer). Not saying they get a free pass or anything, but at the very least, their collective level of personal bravery does help explain their rather soothing, eminently mature take on ’80s-mania: this stuff isn’t just another Simple Minds/Flock Of Seagulls slam-dunk. It’s quite apparent that they’ve listened to Human League, probably even Roxette, and not just out of basic necessity but for deeper study. The song structures are almost experimental compared to all the other Stranger Things prostration that’s being released every five minutes while the gravy train is still on its tracks (“Favorite Fever” starts with eerie darkwave and slowly settles into a Mummy Calls-ish chillout). Oddly comforting; above average songwriting for sure. B —

PLAYLIST

• July 9 is bearing down on us, bringing with it its usual “Ha ha, neener, summer’s half over, and before you know it you’ll be shoveling whatever crazy amount of snow is set to fall this year!” I usually like to take a bunch of four-day weekends during the summer, and that’s my deal again this year; it’s a million times better than torching a couple of separate weeks of vacation all at once and then having to sit there, going quietly insane on the final Sunday, beating myself up for not having single-handedly inspired world peace and cured cancer like I’d planned all year. No, gimme four-day weekends every other week for the entire summer and I won’t even take all of them, because I start feeling sorry for my co-workers, having all those glorious Fridays and Mondays off every other week. I mean, three-day weekends are stupid, aren’t they? All I end up doing is running around on Friday doing all my Saturday catch-up nonsense, and then spending Saturday dreading that I only have two days to chase the cats around the house and do “me stuff,” such as listening to new albums from such “essential artistes” as The Wallflowers, whose new album Exit Wounds is on my to-do list. A prime example of the joys of nepotism in the music business, Wallflowers is the solo project of Jakob Dylan, the son of a fashion model lady and some struggling hack named Bob. One of the new singles, “Roots And Wings,” shows us just what Jakob is made of, basically doing a Rich Little impersonation of his dad over a folk-rock beat that’s sort of like Train but with less going on (I know, mind-blowing concept, but try, really try, to picture it). (Please bear in mind that my distaste for nepotism in any endeavor only comes from my appreciation for Aristotle, that guy who used to be in Monty Python or whatever it was.)

• Yay, so pumped, I wonder what other rich and delicious goodies are in store this week — oh looky, it’s Mythopoetics, from Half Waif, whoever they are! I only added the “whoever they are” part because most music critics won’t admit when they have no idea what some band is about, and my mission is to fix the entire music critic industry if it’s the last thing I do, and plus, I literally haven’t heard of Half Waif, ever, like, I didn’t know “the band” is just some girl named Nandi Rose Plunkett, she was in the band Pinegrove, and she’s from Mass. The single, “Sodium & Cigarettes,” is like Lana Del Rey but fortified with some P!nk-level dramatics. The tune isn’t bad at all; it actually has a pretty cool crescendo, meaning it’s well-written, meaning it will be ignored, not that that’s necessarily a bad thing or whatever, in these times.

• Next we have Australian indie-twee-pop trio The Goon Sax, with Mirror II, their new album! Actually, their rubric isn’t ’80s-indie-twee-pop, it’s a genre called “dolewave,” which just means “’80s-indie-twee-pop’, but spoken in an Australian accent by a random music critic blowhard.” “Psychic” is the teaser tune, and it’s actually kind of awesome, despite sounding like Depeche Mode trying to be Simple Minds. You’d probably like it, honestly.

• We’ll wrap up this week’s nonsense with Museum of Love’s Life Of Mammals, a project headed by LCD Soundsystem’s drummer, Pat Mahoney! The new song is “Cluttered World,” yet another stab at ’80s-pop by random pikers who can’t write songs (think Thomas Dolby collaborating with Tears For Fears, and no, I would never encourage such a thing).

Retro Playlist

So four score and however-many blah blah blah whatever, it was somewhere around this same week 10 years ago that I was blatantly using this space to brag about the fact that I’d been offered Katy Perry tickets to her TD Garden show. This was before she suddenly became about as cool as tapioca served at a Ladies auxiliary club meeting. Anyone remember when Katy Perry was edgy? No? Well, whatever, at one time, she was cool, and so was I, which led some public relations guy to think it made sense to offer me tickets, which I refused, because I would have maxed out my hypocrisy allowance for like the whole year. I’m easy, not sleazy, guys.

One of the albums getting the treatment that week was Happeners, an album from White Wives, a Pennsylvania pub-punk band that, I wrote, sounded like — and try to contain yourself — “Kaiser Chiefs upfitted with good songs and a case of Four Loko,” a bunch of not-entirely-bad musicians whose aim was ”conjuring a vision of what a young Springsteen would be if he had to make a name for himself today.” There was some early Clash going on in “Paper Chaser,” but overall the key to the entire album was “Sky Started Crying,” a Bruce-ized ripoff of Airborne Toxic Event’s “The Kids Are Ready to Die,” an angsty melody that pops up constantly throughout the record. I guessed that it would make the band famous, and permeate “every corner of date-night backgrounding, from Cineplex lobbies to Red Lobsters.” I was wrong, for the first time ever, in my entire life. I’m still getting over my error in judgment, so if we can just drop it at this point, that’d be great.

The only other thing of any note that week was Rocket Science, from Bela Fleck and The Flecktones. My review was obviously texted-in, with bons mots like “at the very least we can say that Fleck is to banjo what Chick Corea is to piano” and “a roots return of sorts for Fleck, providing listeners with a simultaneous dose of pure bluegrass and pure jazz fusion, unique stuff that’d serve as perfect backgrounding to long summer drives into the wilderness.” Guys, I really feel bad about not caring about hipster-banjo albums, I really do.

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).

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