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In a bizarre trend, no less than two concept albums fetishizing Illinois will have been released this year. First, Sufjan Stevens praying over John Wayne Gacy, the “Seer’s Tower,” and Superman on his excellent Come on Feel the Illinoise. Now, in an effort to dethrone Stevens’ folk art with extreme folk art, the Fiery Furnaces are about to drop Rehearsing My Choir, an album spun from memory and nonmemory about Chicago. How do you one-up indie rock’s Big Baby Jesus? By giving verses and narrative filler to your grandmother, who ends up sounding like Saul Bellow in drag. Old ladies aside, however, Rehearsing doesn’t feel like an album so much as a warped old-time radio show—crazy-ass keyboard splats, fun-time disco, and guitar noise Mickey-Mousing the narrative. It’s all tough going. But give the kids credit: It’s still sweet as hell, and you’ll still wish you’d thought of it first. The Fiery Furnaces play with the Child Ballads at 8:30 p.m. on the Black Cat’s Mainstage, 1811 14th St. NW. $15. (202) 667-7960. (Jason Cherkis)