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I had a radio show that only played bands 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.


It’s been awhile since I’ve watched a music video where the band is trying this hard to seem edgy. It’s almost kind of cute how much effort has been devoted to their devil may care attitude. I mean, how many shots will I get of that one dudes nipple ring? The answer is a million. A million shots. How many shots will there be of the band gulping down Jack Daniels? The answer here is also a million. I’m a full minute in and there’s still no music happening. I have no idea if this band is any good or not, but it’s too late, I’m buckled into this roller coaster and I’m going to see it through. Okay, so the music has FINALLY started and this is not terrible. They’re obviously going for 60’s rock n roll (as a side note, someone in this video seriously shouts “sex, drugs, and rock n roll!” at some point), but I am weirdly getting a My Chemical Romance vibe. Like The Black Parade My Chem. Like “Famous Last Words” kind of stuff. I dig it. It’s not bad at all. I mean their idea of good aesthetics is ridiculous, this is like the kind of stuff 13 year olds think of when they dream about being rock stars, but the music is actually fun. Wow. Who would have thought?

You can see The Struts tonight at Rock and Roll Hotel.