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Though Trans Am probably wins the indie-metal race with its first album, some credit is due to the Fucking Champs for being harbingers in their own right. Strip the vocals and tweak the production a tad, and there’s a similarity between the Champs and groups such as Nevermore, Children of Bodom, Hammerfall, and Swordmaster—bands that your garden-variety hipster guy in size-4 stretch jeans wouldn’t be caught in the vicinity of. The Champs can also be blamed for a mini mindset/movement that has turned around and bitten itself in the ass with such afterthoughts as Early Man. On the flip side, they have given us several very similar but very good albums of instrumental power metal glued together with passages that sound as though they could accompany some imagined scene of Matthew Modine rogering a woman after gymnastics class. And finally, the band is fun live—regardless of the fact that Tim Green looks like he’s intently working a word jumble as he plays guitar. The Champs play with Parchman Farm at 9:30 p.m. on the Black Cat’s Mainstage, 1811 14th St. NW. $9. (202) 667-7960. (Andrew Earles)