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Articles by Jordan Lawrence

In talking about Horsefly, the finally released 1996 album that was set to make the career of Chapel Hill’s Capsize 7 until the band was dropped from Caroline Records, former front man Joe Taylor told me that parts of the record sound dated to him.

I can’t tell you if New Jersey’s Titus Andronicus has a truly broad appeal. I just know that it does a doozy on me.

I love the statement of naming your band after Shakespeare’s goriest play. Titus Andronicus is out for blood, and every English nerd out there will know it from the start.

I love Bruce Springsteen, and this band’s every move careens down the melodramatic E Street turnpikes paved by The Boss.

The loyal couriers of the U.S. Postal Service are duty-bound to deliver in times of rain, snow, sleet or hail. I guess the same can be said of jazz musicians.

Carrboro’s Felix Obelix has a few road blocks on its way to accessibility. Musically, the band relies on such odd instruments as a vibraphone and a glockenspiel. Thematically, it probes such dense topics as death and passing time.

Thirty-eight and 28. It’s a wide age gap — a monumental difference for rockers. It’s these two ages that mark Chapel Hill duo Blag’ard.

Singer and guitarist Joe Taylor is a local veteran whose band Capsize 7 had a great chance at making it big. Signed to Sony Publishing and Caroline Records, the group was poised for stardom until it was dropped from the deal.

It’s easy to miss. Just a dingy old drumhead staked into the ground on the side of a curvy road in rural Mebane.

But the small house that resides at 3907 Mebane Oaks Road is home to one of the Triangle’s longest-standing and most respected producers.

Dive Verdict: 2.5 of 5 Stars

Dive Verdict: 3 of 5 Stars

Hard rock and getting fired — it’s an obvious combination.

Few things accompany the “stick-it-to-the-Man” fury that often follows a dismissal better than a tortuously distorted guitar and a well-timed kick drum.

But for Chapel Hill’s Eric Wallen blasting riffs is more than just hard-edged therapy. It’s the next step.

 

When Frank Hensley rushed into his brother's room on Feb. 22, 1957, to steal a jacket just before school, he had no idea the impact that article of clothing would have on his life.

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