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24

SUNDAY

Everybody is saying it as if it were a dirty secret, as if airing such an observation might give up some ghost of underground credibility or confirm recurrent suggestions that all this post-punk emotive-rock business has done nothing other than lead right back to its mildly embarrassing sources. They’re saying well-intentioned things, terrible things, god-awfully cliched things, lobbing such damning adjectives as “atmospheric,” “hypnotic,” “dreamy,” and even “shoegazing.” They’re saying it, as I am, presumably because it’s unavoidable: Antarctica sounds like the Cure. There it is, despite the band’s cumulative indie-rock resume, unmistakable for all 81 minutes and three seconds of its impressive new double CD, 81:03 (not to be confused with the band’s 1998 EP, 23:03). One-time Christie Front Drive crooner Eric Richter and company, ‘gazers or not, couldn’t fit their shoes any better. With Glenndoring at 3 p.m. at the Velvet Lounge, 915 U St. NW. $5. (202) 462-3213. (Colin Bane)