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22

WEDNESDAY

I’m a legendary bassist. Not because I’m a great musician, but because I’m probably the only indie-popper ever to play a headless bass in public. The brown Hohner I used—which, I swear, was borrowed from a friend—in my old band, Bella Vista, isn’t the sort of instrument you usually see in the hands of a guy who wishes he had been in Talulah Gosh or Bubblegum Splash. No matter how far behind my bandmates I stood, someone in the crowd always spotted the damn thing: “Whoa! Headless bass!” And it just never sounded convincing when I responded, “It isn’t mine.” Once, someone made a little cardboard headstock for me to tape on. And one birthday, I got a headless-bass cake with Twizzler strings. Bring your own prog-rock monstrosity to tonight’s bass players’ open mike and—I guarantee—people will remember you better than anyone else there. At 8:30 p.m. at the Black Cat, 1831 14th St. NW. $5. (202) 667-7960. (Leonard Roberge)