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Drummers are supposed to be the crazy ones. The ones who throw TVs out hotel windows, the ones who drink Robert Plant under the table, the ones who don’t get busted for carrying pot in Japan—but die. Keith Moon was crazy. John Bonham was crazy. Now they’re dead. With the advent of hiphop and electronica, the definition of drumming has expanded to include producers, as well. So count Lee “Scratch” Perry in. And count Moby and the RZA, too. Unfortunately, indie rock rates few drummers who can really destroy a room. Except Damon Che. Through four albums with Don Caballero, Che’s beats were pure Jackass: insanely loud stunts—the beats of alcoholics and glue sniffers and pimply kids. When he played live, he could make a room really stink. (Think old sweat socks.) When he talked, well, forget about it. Now with his new band, Bellini, expect an arcade of blips, beats, and good old spastic fun. With Fred Weaver and the Early Humans at the Black Cat, 1831 14th St. NW. $5. (202) 667-7960. (Jason Cherkis)