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Once upon a time, I had a radio show that only played bands currently performing in the District. That show is super dead, so we’ve resurrected it (with way more words and far less radio) in the form of this column. Every day I’ll review a song from a band playing in D.C. that night. The rules are, 1. I can only listen to the song once and 2. I only have until the end of the song to finish my review.

LAIBACH – THE WHISTLEBLOWERS

I’m really terrible at whistling (and by really terrible, I mean I can’t whistle) so the beginning of this song is very impressive to me (as is Andrew Bird’s entire oeuvre). Oh wow. I did not expect this creepy ass gravely voice from the dead. It seriously sounds like someone is talking to me from beyond the grave. I mean, I love spooky dead people, so this isn’t necessarily a bad thing, it just took me by surprise. I don’t know what to think of this. It’s just so weird.

You can see this marching band from the dead (aka Laibach) play at the Black Cat tonight.

 

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