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The guys in These Arms Are Snakes won’t admit it, but they want you to hug them. They want you to like them despite the fact that they called their last album Oxeneers: or The Lion Sleeps When Its Antelope Go Home. They know the title was pretentious and that subtitle fails to elucidate. They are sorry about that. It was a defense mechanism. They want to whisper in one of your ears that they are in a groundbreaking post-hardcore band; later, in a confessional mood, they will yell in your other ear that they are in a cookie-cutter screamo band. They want to admit that even Conor Oberst’s side project, Desaparecidos, did a much better job of excoriating America’s big-box-patronizing, consumerist culture than they did on the song “The Shit Sisters”: “Ride on your $100,000 horse…401(k) plans/NASDAQ/Assurance and insurance.” They want you to come eat seitan teriyaki shish kebabs with them. They want to be forgiven for their musical transgressions. So wrap your arms like tender anacondas around them and squeeze until they stop making noise. These Arms Are Snakes play with Minus the Bear, Criteria, and the New Trust at 9 p.m. on the Black Cat’s Mainstage, 1811 14th St. NW. $12. (202) 667-7960. (David Dunlap Jr.)