From Victory Records’ publicity department:

Darkest Hour have recorded a new arena anthem for their favorite ice hockey team - the Washington Capitals.

Based on their song A Thousand Words To Say But One, Let’s Go Caps! can be downloaded from a special page Darkest Hour have set up www.myspace.com/letsgocapsmusic

Ex-youth puck player and Darkest Hour guitarist Mike Schleibaum notes about their forays into sports themes: “It was something we did just for pure fun. I mean, when you play music - especially death metal - for a living, you start to take a lot way too seriously. This tune is pure fun. We recorded and produced it ourselves in one night after reminiscing about our love for hockey - and don’t forget, the beers helped. If you listen to the backup vocals you’ll hear many of our friends that love hockey. Yeah, the crowd voices are actually a big group of all our D.C. friends. We just called ‘em up and said, “Hey, you guys want some beers and to scream ‘Let’s Go Caps!’ for a few hours?” It was a hell of a night!”

Truth be told, it’s actually pretty practical as far as hockey cheers go. Sure, the tempo is a little fast for 18,000+ rabid hockey fans at Verizon Center to keep up with in unison, but the lyrics are easy enough to remember (Uh…”Let’s go Caps. Let’s gooooooo, let’s gooooooo Capitals! Washington Capitals!”), and it’s certainly menacing enough to intimidate (or confuse) the hell out of the opposing team.

Boris at the Black Cat. I’m pretty sure they played at the Black Cat, but the whole night was a little fuzzy, you know? I’m positive it was in 2007, though. I think.

But yeah: Boris was, reportedly, awesome. I’ve been told that they fucking rocked. I don’t remember too much about the band’s actual set, but I do remember being excited about the show earlier in the day–and then, much later (while actually at the show), peering over at the stage from my perch at the bar and realizing that the extremely loud and colorful blur everyone was cheering for was more than likely the band I had paid money to see perform.

I asked the bleary-eyed bartender if the band performing was, in fact, Boris–then realized I was talking to my own blurry reflection in the mirror. Thinking I was clever, I asked my reflection for a drink on the house. Unfortunately, my reflection–which I later realized was actually the bartender all along–did not appreciate my drunken demeanor and asked me to settle my tab, which I did after fumbling around through my wallet for a couple of minutes.

So yeah, Boris was pretty great. At least, I think that was Boris.

Washington, D.C./Baltimore-area glitch-hop trio Food for Animals performs at 9 p.m. Friday, Nov. 30, with Gowanus Bay Funeral Marching Band and Snack Truck at the Velvet Lounge, 915 U St. NW. $6. (202) 462-3213. Tonight’s show is the first of a three-performance weekend celebrating the upcoming release of the band’s second debut full-length, Belly, which is to be released on the Baltimore-based HOSS Records label.

Not making an appearance at tonight’s CD release show, however, will be any actual copies of Belly. According to lead rapper Andrew Field-Pickering (aka Vulture Voltaire, aka Maximillion Dunbar), the discs are more than a month overdue from the manufacturing plant. “They should, humorously enough, get here the day after the release shows,” he says.

Go here for the Washington City Paper’s review of Belly.

Well, I guess I can scratch “Played the Last Show at the Wilson Center” off of the short list of musical accomplishments I oh-so-casually mention when wooing the womenfolk at the Black Cat’s Red Room or telling well-worn tales of indie-rock glory to a wide-eyed showgoer who has absolutely no idea who I am or what venue I’m blathering about.

According to Positive Force co-founder Mark Andersen, the Evens will perform this Sunday night at the former Wilson Center—now the Capital City Public Charter School. (Doors are at 7:30; the Evens perform at 8 p.m. If it’s been so long that you’ve forgotten where the building is located, it’s at 15th & Irving Sts. NW. $5 gets you into the show—which, of course, is all-ages.) The last-minute announcement came after the original venue, All Souls Church, had to cancel due to an accidental scheduling conflict. After a brainstorming session, Andersen says in an e-mail, MacKaye suggested that they look into booking the CCPCS. (The last show at the Wilson Center was more than six years ago in October of 2001; the lineup, if I remember correctly, featured Strike Anywhere, Q and Not U, Crispus Attucks, Kill the Man Who Questions, Pg. 99, Virginia Black Lung, Del Cielo, Trial By Fire, Teddy DuChamp’s Army, and Tim.)

“It was a total long-shot, but I went by and peered in the window (a bit like a burglar casing the joint, I am afraid!), and Ian was right, the space had a stage, was decent sized, all in all looked like it could work. Nothing to lost by trying, I figured. I found the number to the school and did a ‘cold call’ to receptionist, was passed along to Anne Herr, their executive director, who turned out to be a member of All Souls and eager to help,” Andersen says. “I explained who I was, what the mission was… and to my surprise, Anne was somewhat aware of the special significance of the multi-purpose room of her school in D.C. counter-cultural history. Even more astonishing she was willing to consider the request, as they had not had their space used by an outside community group yet, but wanted to make it available in this way to worthy events.”

Andersen then provided Herr with copies of both the Evens CD and Dance of Days (which Andersen co-authored); the CCPCS board was supportive and—after what Andersen describes as “much back’n'forth between Ian/Evens and Anne/CCPCS…with me as the intermediary”—“[a]gainst all odds, the Evens show at CCPCS/Wilson Center (with six days notice) was go!”

The show—sponsored by Positive Force D.C.—is a benefit for Neighbors Consejo and Anne Frank House, which Anderson describes as “two great groups that provide essential services to the homeless and the formerly homeless in the Columbia Heights/Mount Pleasant/Adams-Morgan communities.” Attendees are encouraged to “[p]lease bring peanut butter, whole grain cereal, or canned veggies for the We Are Family food bank to be delivered to low-income community seniors.”

I’ve got some bad news for you Led Zeppelin superfans eagerly anticipating the band’s upcoming reunion show: Old Man Page still knows how to rock—but he rocks so hard that his own brittle bones break as a result.

The Ahmet Ertegun Tribute Concert, originally scheduled for Monday, November 26th and featuring Led Zeppelin, Bill Wyman and the Rhythm Kings, Paul Rogers, Paolo Nutini, and Foreigner has been postponed until December 10th due to Zeppelin guitarist Jimmy Page fracturing his finger.

The injury to Page’s finger, which was sustained this past weekend, will not allow him to play guitar for 3 weeks. The specialist treating Mr. Page said, “I have examined the fracture to Mr. Page’s finger, and it is my opinion that with proper rest and treatment, he will be ready to resume rehearsing in three weeks time, and thus able to perform on December 10.”

Jimmy Page added, “I am disappointed that we are forced to postpone the concert by two weeks. However, Led Zeppelin have always set very high standards for ourselves, and we feel that this postponement will enable my injury to properly heal, and permit us to perform at the level that both the band and our fans have always been accustomed to.”

Say it ain’t so, Jimmy. The doctor apparently had no comment on whether or not Page is actually a robot, which he kind of sounds like with that last quote. RoboPage rocks!

Local all-girl, grunge-punk quartet Turboslut performs for the first time tonight with Pizza and Shittagoddamn at 7 p.m. at the Bervin Haus, 929 Farragut Ave. NW. $5 gets you in the door. “The excitement and nausea are building,” the band says of it’s upcoming debut peformance on its Web site. “[B]e wary of the splatter zone and bring whatever you have to burn. [I]t’s going to be such a swell time.”

So, what exactly does the band sound like? Hell if I know. According to the site, Turboslut features members of Chugga Chugga, Haymarket, Worm Talk, Conglomo, Monsters, Flat Tummy, and Roblatz. So, if you recognize any of those names, you might have an idea of what to expect. Or not. In addition to concrete information, working MP3’s are something that Turboslut’s Web site doesn’t offer much of—but it does have plenty of online testimonials:

- “Everything I do in life is somehow for TURBOSLUT, and everything I do in TURBOSLUT helps the rest of my life.”

- “TURBOSLUT is the only thing that gets me out of bed in the morning.”

- “TURBOSLUT is as much intimacy as I can handle at this point in my meager existence. Thanks for being so nice to me, TURBOSLUT.”

Ain’t that some praise? I’ve also been told that they are “hot shit.” Be there tonight so that, years from now, you can say you saw them before they started headlining at the 9:30 Club.

Earlier this afternoon, CMJ reported that the members of Led Zeppelin are getting what’s left of the band back together:

The three surviving original members of Led Zeppelin have announced that they will come together on stage for one night only, marking the third time they’ve done so since disbanding in 1980 following the death of original drummer John Bonham. The appearance will be part of a tribute concert for Atlantic Records co-founder Ahmet Ertegun, who died late last year, and it will take place at London’s O2 arena November 26. Bonham’s son, Jason, will fill in on skins the night of the show.

As if that isn’t enough, Jimmy Page, Robert Plant, that guy who played bass, and the son of the dead drummer will be joined by Pete Townshend, Bill Wyman, Foreigner, and Paolo Nutini. The article goes on to explain that tickets for the show–which run at $254 a pop–will be awarded via lottery; registration can be completed at Ahmettribute.com.

The real question, however, is “Is it worth the time it will take to log on to the site (which, of course, is currently down) and register as well as the price of the $254 ticket and the god-knows-how-expensive air fare (assuming I actually win) just to see 3/4 of a well-aged Led Zeppelin plus some guy who isn’t John Bonham perform–and, as a result, possibly destroy the precious image I keep of the band in my mind (based on the zero times I have seen them perform)–when I could just get zonked out at home and watch the DVD?”

This comes at a critical time for me. I’ve been on a Led Zeppelin kick for the last month, ever since Washington City Paper staff writer Joe Eaton posted a blog entry titled “Immigrant Song” and spent the rest of the week humming the song’s opening guitar line in his cube, which is right across from my work area.

As a general rule, I avoid reunion shows altogether. In this case, however, I think I’ll just register and let fate decide.

[lolcat: Jonathan Deamer]

Like most tech-savvy music fans in this age of aesthetically-pleasing-yet-flimsily-constructed electronic gadgets, I own an Apple iPod. And, as happens to many iPod owners, mine eventually broke.

I continue to hold no suspicion that the inevitable demise of my fourth-generation “click wheel” iPod had anything to do with the near-simultaneous release of Apple’s fifth-generation, full-color, video-capable iPod. I’m sure it was just a curious coincidence, and not some nefarious scheme on the part of Apple executives and manufacturers to give consumers that last push needed to keep them constantly upgrading their music technology. Yet I can’t quite bring myself to purchase the latest edition of Apple’s digital media player. Maybe it’s because my current iPod still works, kind of–as much as 25 percent of the time on a good day. Or perhaps it’s because I’m still paying my current one off. More likely it’s because I know that, by the time my brand-spanking-new fifth generation iPod (which was originally released in October of 2005) arrives at my doorstep, Apple will announce the upcoming release of its sixth-generation iPod. I imagine that one will have full pay-per-view-porn capabilities, and Lord knows I’m willing to wait it out for that much.

As a music fan on the go, however, this situation leaves me more than a little screwed. Without my iPod, how exactly am I going to be able to listen to Fugazi while taking the Metro? Like an Internet junkie contemplating what life used to be like before the World Wide Web was created, I scoured my brain trying to remember how I used to accomplish this ever-so-important task. Then it dawned on me–the Walkman. Perhaps you remember the Walkman? Many moons ago, that stack of unattended CDs collecting dust on your bookshelf used to serve a purpose. It’s hard to fathom but, once, society actually used the CDs themselves to listen to, as opposed to simply uploading the music onto iTunes before casting the CD into the ethereal void. (Trust me on this one. I looked it up on Wikipedia.) The Walkman allowed you to listen to your CDs outside of your own home–as you walked.

Let me tell you about my Sony S2 Sports Walkman, which I found in a long-forgotten cardboard box (along with a broken drum machine and a four-track tape recorder) in the back of my closet. In a pre-iPod society, the Sony S2 Sports Walkman was king. This sweet beauty had an ergonomic joystick that allowed you to play, pause, stop, and skip tracks—as well as control the volume—with only the thumb of the hand it was strapped to. It had a built-in FM/AM/TV/weather-band digital tuner with 51-station preset memory. It had a durable, water-resistant casing designed for active use. It was compatible with such digital musical formats as CD’s, CD-R’s , and CD-RW’s. It got close to 50 hours’ worth of playing time on only 2 AA batteries. And let’s not forget the “Skip-Free G-Protection” technology, which guarded you against music interruption while you jogged. (I’m not sure what the “G” in G-Protection was for, but I always assumed it was for “fucking amazinG.”)

I didn’t take me very long to fall back in love with my Sony S2 Sports Walkman. In fact, I’m starting to wonder why we ever parted in the first place. In many ways, the thing actually seems more convenient than an iPod–and it’s certainly more reliable. But it has become very apparent to me that the rest of you do not feel the same. I can feel your disapproval, your mockery, your hatred with every passing glance you cast at me and my Walkman. “Get with the times, loser,” one set of eyes says to me. “Where’d you get that thing, your mom’s attic?,” another set asks.

On the Metro, while rummaging through a stack of CDs in my messenger bag, I catch such a glance. Flustered, I drop a few CD cases to the ground; one CD pops out of the case and rolls a few feet down the isle. Someone snickers. My face red with embarrassment, I suddenly feel like the guy in the Pringles commercials. You know: the tubby schlub, sitting on a park bench with a bag of generic potato chips, who is covered in broken chip pieces and wearing a shirt with multiple grease stains while the rest of the chip-eating world dances by with cans of Pringles in in their hands and shit-eating grins on their faces?

Damn you and your superior chips. Damn you and your superior digital music players. My Sony S2 Sports Walkman and I are happy with each other. Can’t you all just leave us alone?