Kimya Dawson and Adam Green were coffeehouse hounds before they worked as totem-pole dwellers at a record store and a pizza shop, respectively. Dawson had dropped out of Evergreen State. Green was just a fucking kid (13). Somehow, somewhere in New York, they connected and recorded a song called “Little Bunny Foo Foo.” It would be a little while before anyone discovered their greatness and they would conquer New York City as the outsider-folk duo the Moldy Peaches. They don’t want to teach the world to sing. They come from humbler places: “Here is the church/And here is the steeple/We sure are cute for two ugly people.” They want to teach the world about their world, the one they mold staying up late watching the Cartoon Network—”G.I. Joe, Robo Tyke, Ron Jeremy.” And they ask the important questions: “Who mistook the steak for chicken?/Who’m I gonna stick my dick in?” And “Who made all these things for killing?/Whose pussy hole needs filling?” Sure, they can be stoopid, but they can be fun, flowing like schoolyard nursery rhymes. Sure, their production is ignorant and bare-bones, the way Beck used to be before he believed those four-star reviews in Rolling Stone. They have basic desires of love: “I like it when my hair is poofy/I like it when you slip me a roofie.” But watch out if you think they’re a novelty act; they can be sensitive, too. The Moldy Peaches are joined by local mod treasure Ted Leo, and the emo-sweater-core of Rainer Maria, at 9:30 p.m. Saturday, Sept. 22, at the Black Cat, 1811 14th St. NW. $8. (202) 667-7960. (Jason Cherkis)