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11

SATURDAY

Dear Big Hairy Dude: I saw that you were rocking pretty fiercely to Darediablo, and that’s cool and all. But during the last song—where the drums got furious and the organ sounded as if it were Halloween—you threw up your best goat, waving it around until the guitarist acknowledged it, and well, your elbow came a little too close to my chin. I know, Darediablo kicks ass. But these guys are for nerds, too: The press sheet describes the band’s drums as “sinewy” and also makes a point of mentioning that this group of NYC instrumental titans is not a four-piece but a trio. So, next time, will you please mosh carefully while I try to figure out how they meld guitar, drums, and a Fender Rhodes without sounding like the Doors? During “Behold the Panther Store,” you got your stanky hair in my mouth, and I tasted Prell and bongwater. (Don’t take offense; just watch the hair.) If you had bothered, you might have noticed my blazing air guitar on “Crockett & Tubbs”—there was nothing ironic about my fretwork. And that’s the point: Darediablo means it. And I mean it too, so please let me rock in peace. Sincerely yours, the small dude in the blue hoodie. Darediablo plays with Nitroseed and the Plums at 9 p.m. at the Warehouse Next Door, 1017 7th St. NW. $7. (202) 783-3933. (Jason Cherkis)