As if an increasing number of physical ailments and their concomitant prescriptions weren’t painful enough reminders of my own mortality, all of the members of my favorite punk bands—the very embodiment of youth and vitality—are now dreaming the dreamless sleep. The Ramones, sadly, have been whittled down to Tommy, Marky, Richie, and C.J. Last year, Arthur Kane became the third original member of the legendary New York Dolls to die. It’s like a glammy version of an Agatha Christie novel: “And then there were two.” David Johansen and Sylvain Sylvain, however, are morbidly insisting that the show go on. And these days, the lyrics from “Pills”—“A rock ’n’ roll nurse went into my head/While I was lyin’ in a hospital bed”—take on an eerie resonance. Pay respects while you can when the Dolls play at 9 p.m. at the 9:30 Club, 815 V St. NW. $35. (202) 397-7328. (David Dunlap Jr.)