Linnie Greene

Music Review: Alpha Cop

There are noises, sights and smells that are stickier than fly paper. The sound of waves slapping sand, the scent of a magnolia, the taste of a madeleine cake dipped in tea (if you’re Proust, that is) — these are the sensory equivalent of psychotropic drugs, instantly evoking memories and emotions that might otherwise take some coaxing. The noises on a record are no different, and on Alpha Cop’s debut, This One’s For Luck, every track is charged with a similar sense of effusive, evocative sound.

Soul reaches a new generation

Syl Johnson steers a conversation as he pleases. His answers are evasive, wavering between the literal and the metaphoric, and he’ll insert a simple “yes” or “no” where other musicians would wax poetic.

Music Review: Wesley Wolfe

If Wesley Wolfe is sad, at least he’s honest. Painfully, unnervingly honest. Like Camus’ absurd hero — the Sisyphus type who has resigned himself to the way things are — there’s something respectable about the defeat that peppers “Cynics Need Love Too”.

Take advantage of the area’s scene

Here’s a fact with which we’re all well-acquainted: Chapel Hill is no New York City. Sometimes, that’s a good thing.

Music Review: Kurt Vile

Kurt Vile is not the first man to write pensive lyrics or a hypnotic riff — far from it. The troubadour is a concept that stretches back in the depths of history, before the Dylans of the world made rock ‘n’ roll the voice of generations. But on Smoke Ring for My Halo, Vile pulls off a feat that few can master — he takes a set of songs built on the strums of guitar and plaintive prose and transforms them into something magical and enlivened. Album opener “Baby’s Arms” is a stunning, four-minute foray into eddying, swirling instrumentals.

Music Review: Hammer No More the Fingers

Many of Hammer No More the Fingers’ songs on Black Shark start the same way. First comes Joe Hall’s nimble riff, the sonic equivalent of a whisper building into a shout.

Music Review: I Was Totally Destroying It

There are some bands whose heartache and triumphs transmit like whispered confessions. Even with a fast tempo, meaning is veiled in metaphor, shrouded in reverent angst and symbolism. Thankfully, Durham’s I Was Totally Destroying It is nothing like those bands.

Nightlight turns eight

The Nightlight has never been afraid to get weird. A glimpse at the beloved local venue’s website proves just as much — scattered between touring acts and local pop and rock favorites, you’ll find dance installations, home-brewed beer festivals and area noise showcases. But on the eve of its eighth year of business, the club’s next move is uncertain.

With love, from me to you

I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it’s February, and that means one terrifying thing: It will be Valentine’s Day soon. This isn’t Dive’s official Valentine’s issue.

Noise artists craft novel sounds for growing base

As a noun, “noise” carries with it a connotation of cacophony. When something is branded as “noisy,” it’s often the lawn mower that wakes you up on Saturday mornings or the neighbor’s obnoxious dog. A group of local musicians is out to prove that noise is more than jarring, pedestrian sounds — it’s an entire genre that’s pushing sonic boundaries, in and outside the Triangle.

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Caribou

Big Boi

The Love Language

Left to right, BJ Burton, Missy Thangs and Stu McLamb of The Love Language. The band will have a release party for their album Libraries, its first release on Merge Records, Saturday.