Category Archives: 20 years ago today

20 years ago today — Five Great Records

Today is October 5, 2013. On this date in 1993, a slew of good records came out. Five of them I would call “great”. I might even call each of them “essential”. In 2012, I used the “20 years ago today” feature a bunch of times, and I haven’t used it very much in 2013. So we’ll take a quick look at five great records that came out 20 years ago today. I didn’t buy them all on the release day, but I did buy them all. Eventually.

In alphabetical order by album title:

Anodyne by Uncle Tupelo

Anodyne by Uncle Tupelo. Before there was Wilco and before there was Sun Volt, the notoriously volatile Jeff Tweedy was in the alt-country band Uncle Tupelo with Jay Farrar. And they were great. They released four albums, and Anodyne was the last. While they were touring with the album, the relationship between Tweedy and Farrar went from “strained” to “hostile”. They quickly went separate ways, and each of their bands found more success than Uncle Tupelo ever did. Wilco is by far the more successful, but Tweedy is by far the bigger asshole.
Here’s one of the standout tracks “Chickamauga”. A Farrar song.

Gentlemen by Afghan Whigs

Gentlemen by Afghan Whigs. Aside from being a great album, this is a legendary album cover. This Cincinnati band formed in 1986 and released six albums between 1988 and 1998. Since then, they’ve broken up and re-formed twice. They were in the right place (Sub Pop Records) at the right time (early-to-mid 1990s) to ride the wave of grunge into mainstream success. While they weren’t the first band to have mainstream major label success after getting started on Sub Pop, their story is kind of special. After Nirvana leapt from Sub Pop and made a ton of money for the Geffen Group, other majors were in a hurry to recruit other Sub Pop bands. The Afghan Whigs found themselves as the subject of a major label bidding war, and they ended up signing with Elektra Records. Their contract even included an option for a major studio motion picture. Not a motion picture soundtrack. A motion picture. That option was never exercised. Gentlemen was a terrific success, but the next album Black Love was a commercial failure. That bubble burst and it was also the wrong time for indie bands to be on major labels. Label execs Mo Ostin and Lenny Waronker left Warner Brothers in 1995 after being at the helm for decades. They correctly feared that new WB owners/management would stop giving a damn about little bands. And there were similar stories at other big labels. All of the majors who had gobbled up little bands hoping to capitalize on the grunge fad realized that there would never be another Nirvana. So anyway, Elektra didn’t do much to help the sales of Black Love, and when the album wasn’t moving units, both band and label became angry. They parted ways, and frontman Greg Dulli ended up undergoing treatment for clinical depression.
Gentlemen was both the best and the most commercially successful album for The Afghan Whigs, and here’s one of the best songs from it:

Tonight I go to hell for what I’ve done to you. This ain’t about regret. It’s when I tell the truth

Laid by James

Laid by JamesThis Manchester band formed in 1986 and have released a total of 12 studio albums. Laid was their fifth album, and although they had achieved some success in the UK, it was the first album to chart in the US and the only of their twelve albums to achieve gold status by the RIAA. It was the first of many collaborations with the legendary Brian Eno. The album’s title track was a massive success and it’s the sole reason for the album’s success on this side of the Atlantic.

And here’s the line from the one song from the one album that everyone remembers, even if they forget every other great song by this band:

This bed is on fire with passionate love. The neighbors complain about the noises above. But she only comes when she’s on top

Painful by Yo La Tengo

Painful by Yo La Tengo. The legendary indie rock trio from Hoboken, New Jersey formed in 1984, and they’ve been active the entire time. With the same lineup for the last 20 years. They’ve released 13 studio albums, and it’s pretty fair to say that their sound has changed and evolved over the years. I’m not the biggest fan of the stuff they’ve done lately, but I adore the 1993-2000 years and the four albums that came out in that era. Chief among them is the hazy, dreamy, feedback-laden Painful. And this is one of my favorite songs from what is probably my favorite YLT album.

This is everything that makes Yo La Tengo awesome. Or at least what made them awesome.

Finally, the best for last.

So Tonight That I Might See by Mazzy Star

So Tonight That I Might See by Mazzy Star. The psychedelic dream pop band from Santa Monica, California founded in 1988 and put out two spectacular albums –1990’s She Hangs Brightly and 1993’s So Tonight That I Might See— followed by a mediocre one –1996’s Among My Swan. They disbanded for many years, then reunited at some point in 2011 to record a couple of songs that eventually ended up on the much-anticipated new album Seasons of Your Day, which came out last week. The first side of the new album is great, but I can’t stay focused on the second side. It’s still a good record, but after waiting 17 years for this, I was hoping for something better. It’s hard for me to decide whether She Hangs Brightly or So Tonight That I Might See is my favorite album, but “Fade Into You” is my favorite Mazzy Star song. I strongly urge you to check out the incredible cover of the song done by the Baltimore shoegaze band Thrushes:
“Fade Into You” as covered by Thrushes

but above all, this live performance video from a Jools Holland special, which I’ve shared at least 5 times on this blog, is perfect.

Even if Hope’s hair is a mess, this song and this performance are perfect. Just a spectacular song about loving someone who is incapable of loving you back. Not “unwilling”, but “incapable”. Whether the other person is damaged by drugs, past relationships, or emotional instability, the other person just can’t return the love. And although it’s bad, you keep going back to it. It’s breathtaking and heartbreaking. And perfect. “Fade Into You” was the only Mazzy Star song to crack the Billboard top 200, but Pitchfork Media named it the 19th best song of the 1990s.

Click on the above album artwork to be taken to the respective pages to buy the albums from the amazon store.

08.30.13 — “New Year” by The Breeders

The reason for this post tonight is threefold. First, today –August 30– is the 20th anniversary of the release of The Breeders’ fantastic 1993 sophomore album Last Splash. Second, it’s to remind you that you should buy the 20th anniversary re-release of the album. It’s full of b-sides, live stuff, demos and other fun stuff. It’s outstanding. Buy it here. The third and final reason is that The Breeders are playing at the Hopscotch Music Festival next weekend. Their Hopscotch set, like the others on their tour, will consist of Last Splash from start to finish (and I’ll assume a few b-sides and others). It should be a doozy.

To celebrate all of this, here’s a video of The Breeders playing a 2013 version of “Last Splash”

Yeah. That’s the gals in 2013. And Kelley is absolutely killing it. If this is any indication of how their show should be, I’m in for a real treat. Let’s face it, though… I’m going to love it even if they play like crap. I saw the Pixies twice at the tail end of their prime and then again in 2011, but I never saw The Breeders while they were active.

I can’t say it enough. Even if you already have Last Splash and all of the LS-era singles and EPs, you need to get this. The packaging alone is worth the price of the thing. USA customers get the 3xCD version here. The vinyl 7xLP version got delayed a bit, but it will be available starting September 2. Details are here.

Tickets for Hopscotch are still available here.

05.07.13 — “Altar Boy” by Madder Rose

Madder Rose

If you only listen to one song tonight, make it “Altar Boy” by Madder Rose (1993, from the album Bring it Down).

Madder Rose was an indie rock band from New York City. They released four albums between 1993 and 1999, and tonight’s song comes from the first album.

While the band had a few different tricks up their sleeve, in the early days, they were often compared to the indie pop sounds of Blake Babies and the shoegaze-y “glasses band” sound of Velocity Girl. The first album came out while I was heavily involved in college radio, and I was really into the aforementioned bands. This album was right up my alley, and I had it in heavy rotation for a long time. Although the band put out three more records before calling it quits in 1999, I never got any of them. Since the band quit, the members have been active with other projects, and I haven’t gotten any of those either.

I actually didn’t have this album in my digital library, so I had to literally dust off my physical copy before I could get to work on this post. The album still sounds as good to my ears as it did 20 years ago. Before tonight, it’s been at least ten since I last played it.

It’s a long, complicated story how the song came to me tonight after not hearing it for ten years, but I won’t get into that. It’s late, and nobody would care anyway.

Here’s the song.

“Altar Boy” by Madder Rose

I love the fuzziness of it. I love the hard drums. Simple pattern played hard and loud. The music is super-distorted while the vocals are clear and clean. Sure, it’s all very repetitive, but I still think it’s great. Mary Lorson’s voice, by the way, was always the main draw. Not just for this song, but for the band as a whole. She sounds just a bit like Juliana Hatfield. Or maybe I’m just giving myself an excuse to point out that when The Blake Babies reunited and released an album in 2001, it contained a cover of the Madder Rose song “Baby Gets High”. That song was on the Madder Rose EP Swim, which came out on the heels of their first album.

I think Lorson’s post-Madder Rose stuff is in the “indie folk”, singer/songwriter vein, but I’ve never heard any of it. Some of the stuff on Bring it Down definitely has a folky tone, so I can understand how her solo career might go in that way.

You can get Bring it Down from the Amazon store here.

05.06.13 — “Simulate” by Delicious Monster

Delicious Monster

If you only listen to one song tonight, make it “Simulate” by Delicious Monster (1993, from the “Snuggle” single).

Delicious Monster was an indie pop band from Birmingham, England. They were active between 1990 and 1995, but for all intents and purposes, they were active only in 1993. They were being compared to the likes of The Cranberries and The Sundays, and a lot of the hardest-working indie bands of that year were naming Delicious Monster as one of their favorite new bands. I think they were sort of the darlings of NME, but on this side of the Atlantic, they were virtually unknown.

The band cranked out five singles in just over a year, followed by a compilation album called Joie de Vivre. A friend who was managing a record shop way back then called me when he got one of those singles in the shop. To tell the story correctly, the “friend” was really the brother of a friend, but that’s not important. Anyway, he guessed correctly that this was right up my alley. I bought the first single, and then as the others came out, I got them as well. Remember the pre-internet days when you would get the shop manager to special order imports for you? Remember how you used to eagerly await the postcard that the shop would send you, telling you that your special order had arrived? I kind of miss those days.

Today’s song didn’t make the album, but I still think it’s their best song. Although I no longer listen to it multiple times a day like I did back in 1993, I think it still holds up well. I’ve certainly listened to it multiple times today.

I can’t track down the release date of those singles. Because of the catalog numbers, I’m almost certain that the record label that released their stuff was their own label and that there were no other bands on it.

I’m sure that I read a magazine article or two about Delicious Monster back in the day, but I don’t remember ever knowing very much about the band. Theres ‘virtually nothing about them on the interwebs other than a myspace page that was at some point managed by frontwoman Rachel Mayfield and bassist Ian “Huck” Whitney.

All I know for certain is that the single came out in 1993. Let’s just pretend that it came out 20 years ago to the day.

Here’s the super-jangly song of the day:
“Simulate” by Delicious Monster

While other songs have a bit more teeth to them, I’ve always really liked this one. Maybe because it’s REALLY Sundays-esque. I love the one jangly acoustic guitar playing together with the electric guitar with miles of delay on it.

Of course I dig Rachel Mayfield’s voice. That should go without saying.

The band never released anything else, but continued to tour until 1995, when they split up. Rachel Mayfield put out a solo record called Freedom is Sexy? in 2006, which sounds a little lounge-y, but not much different than the quieter Delicious Monster songs.

All of the singles are out of print, as is the album. You can find some of them on ebay, but you won’t have much luck finding them in regular retail outlets.

October 20 “Love” by The Sundays

The Sundays

If you only listen to one song tonight, make it “Love” by The Sundays (1992, from the album Blind).

The Sundays were an indie rock quartet from London who were active between 1988 and 1997. Starting in 1990, they released three proper albums and a small handful of singles. They’re perhaps best known for their song “Here’s Where The Story Ends”, which propelled their debut album Reading, Writing, and Arithmetic to #4 on the UK album charts and to #39 on the Billboard top 200 in the USA. That’s pretty remarkable for an indie act to have that kind of crossover success with their first record. “Here’s Where The Story Ends” was never released as a single in the UK, but it was in the US, and it reached #1 on the indie charts for one glorious week.

Another song that they were known for was their incredible cover of the Rolling Stones’ “Wild Horses”. That song was a b-side on the “Goodbye” single in the UK, but it was an album track from Blind in the US. When it showed up in Budweiser ads in the US, it once again put them in the mainstream spotlight. The thing about that is that they didn’t even know that it was being marketed like that.

Their definitive thing is the jangly, bright pop aesthetic with the often somber lyrics to contrast. And that singer Harriet Wheeler was (and probably still is) hotter than twelve suns. She and her then boyfriend David Gavurin (guitar) met at university where Wheeler was studying English Literature and Gavurin studied Romance Language. They had no musical background, but they wanted to start a band anyway. They enlisted bassist Paul Brindley and drummer Patch Hannan. A bit of trivia for you: Hannan was this close to being the drummer for The Field Mice, but something didn’t work out there.

After the critical success of Reading, Writing, and Arithmetic, the band went on a quick tour of the UK and the US, and got quickly to work on their second record.

Blind was released 20 years ago today (in the US), and a day earlier in the UK. I remember the day. It was a rainy, gray day. I had an early class that morning, and I walked over to the record shop to buy Blind as soon as the doors opened. On my way back to the dorm, I was stopped by a girlfriend of a friend. She wanted to chat my ear off, but I only had one thing on my mind. I made some excuse to walk away from her, and I spent the rest of the day in my dorm room listening to this record.

Blind didn’t enjoy the same success or the same accolades that Reading, Writing, and Arithmetic did, but I still love it all the same.

Tonight’s song has always been one of my favorite songs from the record, and in fact one of my favorites from their whole catalog. This is that song.

“Love” by The Sundays

This song has a faux string section buried in the mix. I’m not a huge fan of that in general, but I like it here.

I guess the meaning could be argued. “Find a silver lining in the dark cloud”. “Don’t worry about what everyone else thinks”. Some combination of the two. It’s only sort of cheery, no matter how jangly and bright the guitar bit is.

This is my life and it’s all very well, but never, never, never again
As they say, “We’ve been robbed”
And don’t you know that this time

Love, love, love
Just love yourself like no one else
Love, it’s enough
They can say what they like but they still can’t take that

Life’s not a rose garden, but love yourself and you’ll be okay

That’s how it starts off, anyway. Later in the song, there’s a slightly different tone. More like: “this doesn’t have to suck. I deserve better”.

If you don’t have a clue about life
Then I’m happy, happy, happy to say neither have I
but I’m not going to shrug my shoulders & suck my thumb
This time

’cause there’s something I deserve

And then, still later, another different tone. More like “we’re all gonna die anyway, so you may as well love me”

Picture my house in a postcard town
Picture a bomb in the sky
History at the door, who could ask for more?
I’ve felt better, I’ve felt better
So kill me with love

It’s a strange twist there. Earlier in the song, she sings “I’ve felt better, I’ve felt worse”, as if to say “this is a bad day, but it’s not that bad”. Here at the end, there’s no “I’ve felt worse” to balance the “I’ve felt better”. However, this is all while saying “Kill me with love”

I guess there’s a lot that I’m not getting.

I’m not in, um … love … with the 1970s-style fadeout to end the song, but I still adore the song.

The Sundays always have been one of my favorite bands, and my experience of seeing them on consecutive nights in February of 1993 was one of my favorite music-related experiences ever. Read all about that, including the brilliant “Harriet, you’re the spawn of Aphrodite” story here.

You can buy Blind here.

And you can enjoy the video for this song, in which Harriet is in her full “spawn of Aphrodite” glory:

September 15 — “A Short Happy Life” by Medicine


If you only listen to one song today, make it “A Short Happy Life” by Medicine (1992, from the album Shot Forth Self Living).

Medicine was a Los Angeles shoegaze band who released three albums between 1992 and 1995, then another in 2003. For a multitude of reasons, they were frequently hailed as America’s answer to My Bloody Valentine, and the people who were doing that called Shot Forth Self Living their Loveless. It’s not a parallel, because Loveless was MBV’s second and last album while Shot Forth… was Medicine’s first. However, the point was that it was their crowning achievement.

It was 20 years ago today that Shot Forth Self Living was released. I’ve chosen today’s song in honor of that.

It’s easy to forget that the Medicine and My Bloody Valentine were contemporaries. It’s even easier to forget that the two brilliant albums Loveless and Shot Forth… were released within ten months of each other. It’s my opinion that Shot Forth… is almost as good, and almost as exciting as Loveless. At the time, it was almost as appreciated. 20 years have passed, and Loveless remains on people’s “favorite records” lists, while Shot Forth… has unfortunately been forgotten. I still love it, and I’ve been doing my part to bring it back to relevance.

Thankfully, the good folks at Captured Tracks Records have been doing their part, too. On Record Store Day, they re-released Shot Forth… and Medicine’s second album —The Buried Life in “deluxe and redux” 2XCD/2XLP format. Each re-release features the remastered album with extra tracks, plus a bonus disc of rare and unreleased stuff.

The 2012 re-release of Shot Forth… features:

Disc 1: the entire album, plus the 5ive EP and the Aruca EP.
Disc 2: 19 tracks, taken from various demo tapes, early versions, and live recordings.

As I usually do with these things, I’ll offer two versions of today’s song. Both taken from the deluxe package. I’ll suggest that you play these very loud. First, the album version:
“A Short Happy Life” by Medicine

It opens with innocent, chiming guitars, then the first of many hard hits at the 0:15 mark. There’s a big, dark, heavy wave of sound there that’ll crush you if you’re not careful. Beth Thompson’s lighter than air vocals float delicately over the heavy dirge of guitars, feedback, bass and drums. It gets a little drone-y until smack in the middle of the song, it takes a little turn at 3:22. It works its way back to the drone-y bit, but at 4:55, it takes another turn, and that right there is one of my favorite bits of the song. Listen for the drum fill, followed by the whiny guitar and the layers and layers of feedback. You won’t notice the bass there, but it’s actually pretty big in the mix. For the next 90 seconds, the swirling feedback keeps getting bigger and bigger, ever so slightly. By the end, it’s almost entirely feedback and drums.

And of course, there’s the sudden stop. The pulling of the plug. It’s a brilliantly blunt way to stop a crushing wave of sheer noise.

If you get caught in the undertow, you’ll miss some really brilliant stuff in the lyrics. Perhaps brilliantly non-sensical. Perhaps brilliantly oblique. Perhaps, just unqualified brilliance.

The original album was released on Def American Records in North America and on Creation Records in the UK. The thing about that is that My Bloody Valentine had pushed Creation to the brink of bankruptcy with Loveless, and here they were releasing what many considered to be the second coming of Loveless. Anyway, the original release didn’t include a lyric sheet, but the 2012 reissue does.

Honey sliding across the floor
Don’t make me wait
If you smile now, I just might melt
Lick me off the plate

Taste me now, ’cause we’ve not much time
Crush my tiny frame

She’s a shy boy
I don’t know why
Cruel to the core
Kiss me once before I die
Hang me from the door
Is it my turn to make you cry?
I’m not keeping score

There’s some pretty sexually suggestive stuff there. Whether it is or isn’t about sex doesn’t matter. This is steamy. And I’ve always been a big fan of that “Is it my turn to make you cry? I’m not keeping score” line.

Now, try the “alternate” version, which was recorded during the album sessions.

“A Short Happy Life (alternate take)” by Medicine

It’s a little less laden with feedback, a little less undertow-y, and a little less …um… loud.

One specific thing that’s pretty neat about this alternate take is the way it ends. The album version sounds like the plug was pulled while the band was playing. The ending of the alternate version is a little less sudden. It almost sounds like the band stopped playing at the precise and carefully orchestrated moment.

I highly recommend the deluxe and redux Shot Forth Self Living. You can get it from the Captured Tracks web store here.

For extra credit, I’ll invite you to watch the official music video for “Aruca”, which is probably the most Loveless-esque song by Medicine. Hell, the video even looks like Loveless.


September 14 — “Japanese to English” by Red House Painters

Red House Painters (circa 1994)

If you only listen to one song today, make it “Japanese to English” by Red House Painters (1992, from the album Down Colorful Hill). Red House Painters was a folk-rock/slowcore band from San Francisco. Although Low was the band who made slowcore sexy, Red House Painters practically invented the slowcore/sad bastard genre.
Mark Kozelek and friend Anthony Koutsos formed the band in 1989, and they spent the next few years playing shows in the Bay area and working on demo tapes. They were on pace to be just another local band. Until their friend Mark Eitzel from American Music Club got the demo tapes in the hands of 4AD label boss Ivo Watts-Russell.

As the legend goes, Ivo never even listened to anything beyond the first song on the tape, which was “24”. That one song was enough to convince him that he needed to sign this band. The demo tape was, according to the same legend, 90 MINUTES. That’s insanity. Who does that? It didn’t matter. Ivo loved “24” and signed the band.

That demo tape was culled down into what eventually became the six-track album Down Colorful Hill. If you really wanted to get super-technical about it, you could say that Down Colorful Hill isn’t a proper album, but that’s just silly.

It was released twenty years ago today in the UK and twenty years ago tomorrow in the US. I never have been able to figure out why new release day is Tuesday in North America while it’s Monday in the UK (and I think in Europe, too). I’ve heard theories that have to do with sales figures and how bank holidays and long weekends play into the need for Monday to be considered the last day of a sales week. All of this is another discussion for another day.

Between 1992 and 1996, RHP were a ridiculously prolific band. They released five albums, an EP, and a few singles. They also toured pretty extensively. I only got to see them one time, though. Unfortunately, by the end of that prolific run, they had fallen out of favour with Ivo. He was, and I presume still is, a very difficult person to work with. Even if he doesn’t own 4AD anymore. When he loves you, he really loves you. You’re the best thing since Froot Loops. Once that fire burns out, though, it’s a short walk off of a very short plank for you. You don’t go to Ivo’s doghouse. You don’t get “less than most favoured” treatment. You get dropped from the label just like that, and you get treated like you never existed. I still don’t know exactly what (apart from drugs) happened between this man and Cocteau Twins, but their split wasn’t amicable and he’s said retrospectively that he screwed that one up. I think he knows that he screwed this one up, too.

RHP were kicked off of 4AD while they were working on Songs For a Blue Guitar, but they quickly found someone (Island Records) to put it out. The next record, however, was a problem. I think there were some issues with the intellectual property rights, and some other legal stuff, but they had to shelve Old Ramon. It was ready to go in 1997, but it didn’t get released until 2001, when Sub Pop picked them up. Unfortunately, that was the last RHP record.

Mark Kozelek went on to put out a couple of proper solo records and a ton of solo EPs and special projects. He also formed a “different” band with drummer Anthony Koutsos called Sun Kil Moon. At times, Kozelek has said that Sun Kil Moon is Red House Painters, while at other times he has said that they are distinctly different. For the purposes of this blog, they are different.

A lot of RHP stuff is autobiographical for Kozelek. When the guy in the song is having a really rough go of it after a breakup, that really is Kozelek. By contrast, the SKM stuff isn’t all that autobiographical. The first Sun Kil Moon record — Ghosts of The Great Highway is almost entirely about boxers who lost their lives tragically. Kozelek is a well-known boxing enthusiast with encyclopedic knowledge of lesser-known fighters. Even the band name is a nod to boxing. It’s named after Korean lightweight boxer Sung-Kil Moon. I touched on all of this boxing stuff in my post about Sun Kil Moon, and you can read all about it there and by doing your own research. It’s actually pretty fascinating.

We’re not here to talk about boxing. Not today. Today, we’re here because of a brilliant song called “Japanese To English”. This is that song.

“Japanese to English” by Red House Painters

It’s a song about having a relationship with someone where there’s a big gap between the two of you. An age gap, a culture gap, a language gap. I’m not sure that this is one of the autobiographical ones. Nor am I sure that it’s about the need to literally translate Japanese to English and English to Japan-ese. It’s got some of my favorite lines, though:

It’s not that simple, this dictionary
It never has a word for the way I’m feeling
It’s nothing plain for me
Of a different god and moral

I cannot translate Japanese to English
or English to Japanese

It doesn’t get much better, though, than the opening lines:

I went as far as losing sleep
I went as far as messing up my life
Unloving still strike me different
A million miles from home
And fifteen from a pay phone

You’re ten years older
We translate Japanese to English
And English to Japanese

There’s always been something about that “a million miles from home and fifteen from a pay phone” line that’s struck me. It’s SO lonesome. It’s SO depressing. And that’s exactly the point.

It seems like it’s less about those literal things, and more about chasing a relationship that’s less than ideal. There’s a million reasons why it won’t work. Language barrier, age gap, distance, etc. Still, he messes up his life to try to make it work.

It’s heartbreaking, and it’s beautiful. It may or may not be autobiographically about literally having a relationship with a Japanese woman ten years his elder. It doesn’t matter, though. It’s still phenomenal.

Some people consider this to be the definitive RHP song. I love it a lot, but I’m not sure that it’s the ONE. It’s my second favorite RHP song, next to “Katy Song”. I know it’s a cliché, but “Katy Song” is not only my favourite RHP song, it’s among my favourite songs by anybody.

Down Colorful Hill is out of print, or at the very least, 4AD is holding the copies that exist. You can get used copies, though. Check amazon.

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