Saturday, January 15, 2005
Allow me to translate certain parts of this NYT article for you.
How did indie rock become the voice of emotional sincerity? Ten years ago,
in the heyday of Pavement and Liz Phair and Beck (the old, funny Beck), indie
rockers were supposed to be at least a little bit prickly. The genre was known
for its urbane disinclination to perform any icky operations involving hearts:
pouring them out, for instance, or affixing them to sleeves.
Somehow, indie rockers became EVEN BIGGER PUSSIES.
"Digital Ash in a Digital Urn" is a bold response to the myth of St. Conor: the
icon of unplugged authenticity goes not just electric but electronic, letting
the mythology melt away in a solvent of flickering rhythms and chirping
synthesizers.
In a bold move already done successfully by another sensitive indie-rock singer-songwriter two years ago, Conor's made a crappy "electronic" album! In the studio, he was heard to say, "Gotta get me some of that Postal Service money!" And so he did what anyone would do in this situation: he went out and got one of the guys from the Postal Service.
The happiest surprise on these two albums is the absence of hand-wringing about
the price of fame. Once upon a time, cult heroes who earned even a dash of
mainstream success were expected to release a tortured (or, alternately, snarky)
album about how awful (or, alternately, hilarious) it all was. But on these two
discs, Mr. Oberst doesn't bother to grouse about the mainstream, not even People
magazine. This album by someone not even remotely famous or mainstream-successful sure doesn't have much complaining about being famous and mainstream-successful!
ADDENDUM: As Bright Eyes pieces keep showing up in my major-media reading fodder, like Newsweek and New York (maybe he will be famous!), I keep reading lyrics they quote as being great. And they're all just really unnoticable. I mean, what's up, guys?
posted by Mike B. at 10:23 AM
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Friday, January 14, 2005
Do You Feel Loved? alerts us that M.I.A. is playing at the Knitting Factory on February 5. Go buy tickets now. I am happy she is playing, but very sad it is at the Knitting Factory, rather than somewhere that doesn't make me want to kill all my fellow concert-goers if it's crowded, which this will doubtless be.
Oh, and both of my bands are playing tonight at Siberia, on 40th Street between 8th and 9th. I know this is kind of late notice, but you should come out, if you're not doing anything already. Noisy indie at 9 and dancey hard pop at 11.
posted by Mike B. at 5:35 PM
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Two addendums to the below:
1) I'm trying to move RNRBMs closer to what they were originally intended as, i.e. bite-sized aphorisms largely sans explanation, rather than " random shit I thought up," which will now just be ensconsed in regular blog entries.
2) If Kael is sort of the alpha and omega of modern pop-cult crit, then apparently she's the source of one of my biggest pet peeves: pretending like your opinion is objectively true, i.e. "how is it that the immense audience for The Bridge on the River Kwai, after all those hours of watching a story unfold, didn't express discomfort or outrage or even plain curiosity about what exactly happened at the end--which through bad direction or perhaps sloppy editing went by too fast to be sorted out and understood." Well, I dunno Pauline, maybe they actually understood it...
There's a difference between having strong opinions and acting as if the very strength of your personal subjective judgments causes them to have any validity in an argument. They don't. They just make you far more annoying to argue with.
posted by Mike B. at 1:34 PM
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ROCK 'N' ROLL BON MOTS #026 It is pointless and lazy to complain about the current pop culture. The only pop culture anyone really likes is what you experienced as a youngster, which you've convinced yourself is somehow the same as the pop culture that came before it, unlike current pop culture.[1] This is true for everyone, and you simply have to admit it rather than trying to find some justification for disliking "what the kids are listening to" besides "I just don't like it." (I.e., television made them stupid, irony made them stupid, stupidity made them stupid, etc.) The only legitimate response to disliking pop culture as a whole is to go out and make something better. Anything less is a cop-out. (this being an early response to Kael's I Lost It) [1] Important note: this is not true. Do your best to remember this.
posted by Mike B. at 1:26 PM
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For a long time, I have wanted to produce a Tori Amos album, largely to correct the problems that seem to have cropped up in her body of work since she started producing herself. (The first self-produced album, Boys For Pele, notwithstanding, although that has its problems too.) Lately I've been thinking about it more specifically, and as such, have come up with a set of ground rules that I would lay down were I to produce a Tori Amos album. So, without further ado...
1. There will be exactly 12 songs on the album. Not 11, not 13, and definitely not goddamn 19. If there are more than 12 songs produced, the extras will be b-sides, or leaked tracks, or a whole separate album. But this album will have exactly 12 songs.
2. At least 10 of those 12 tracks will have drums. And not those pussy-ass "trip-hop" drums you keep using. If I wanted a track to sound like that stupid "Sunscreen" song, I'd put on a pair of khakis, cut a hole in them, and fuck myself with an LL Bean catalog.
3. If Steve Caton tries to enter the studio, I will punch him in the face. This will probably result in me getting beaten up, because it looks like Steve could take me, but nevertheless, that wanker needs to be kept away from a guitar, for the love of all that is holy.
4. Songs about babies = bad. Songs about getting really drunk and you and your best friend beating the crap out of each other until you collapse on the street and have to be taken to the hospital and wake up the next morning not remembering any of it: good.
5. You will not use any of the following words in your lyrics: butterfly, Jesus, sweet, ahAHow, boy, c'mon, he, you, light, honey, heaven, Tuesday (or any other day of the week), man, coffee, ghost, dove (or any bird name), champagne, learn, snowflake, hand, neil (OK YOU KNOW NEIL GAIMAN WE GET IT), religion, girl, bed, athena (or any other name of a pantheistic god), woman, body, tree. A special exemption is granted for "blood" and "song" but don't abuse it. In general, if you write a line that would get a freshman women's studies major excited, delete it.
6. There will be no A/C ballad on the album. The closest we will get to an A/C ballad is something that sounds like Avril's "My Happy Ending." In fact, why don't we just cover that? It would make things easier. Plus, hey: good song!
7. The first single will be the harshest song on the album. This song may or may not feature the sound of Flava Flav tearing the shit out of a small stuffed animal and screaming after we've locked him in a lightless room with no food for a few days.
8. Pre-recording regimen: one week of nothing but ABBA, one week of Britney/Xtina/Pink/Beyonce. And have you heard the Scissor Sisters, Tori? I mean jesus christ.
9. If a song is about someone, it will have consistent, named characters. Furthermore, you may no longer use the "one specific thing and three highly unspecific things" rule. Now it's more like "three specific things for one vague thing, except you really have to justify the vague thing." Also, 3/4 of songs should have a coherant narrative line.
10. In 4 of the songs, you will only be able to use 8 notes on the piano. In 4 of the songs, you will not be allowed to improvise. In 4 of the songs we will sample small piano riffs and construct the song from that as well as outside instruments. Any individual song may incorporate any or all of these restrictions, but all of them must be satisfied in the 12 songs that end up on the final album.
ADDENDUM: Matthew gives his version of these ground rules for an R.E.M. album in the comments to a DYFL post.
posted by Mike B. at 10:38 AM
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Thursday, January 13, 2005
Sweet Jesus. Fucking Wall Street guys. Dude, you don't negotiate something like this...
posted by Mike B. at 1:59 PM
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In answer to Sasha's question: I think I can only answer unkindly, and the unkind answer is that critics' cocaine is a new genre that is also a harsher or more worldly or more knowing version of the music you liked when you were younger. Evidence of this: punk as cocaine to critics who loved 50s rock, grime as cocaine to critics who liked rave/d&b/garage, Prince as cocaine to critics who liked funk, etc. None of these are actual new genres, but then the original genres weren't new either, since we're talking pop music here. But I think new genres are the coke, and the more you liked the preceding genre and the more vital the new genre is, the more effect it has on you. (Here I'm assuming he's using cocaine as something that makes you more talkative, more focused, and more crazy, sort of hyperaware, and not a little paranoid too, since after all passionate genre lovers become passionate genre purists...)
UPDATE: Sasha compiles mine and some others' responses.
posted by Mike B. at 1:23 PM
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So the label I work for has acquired, as per its present business model, another label, which label has a rather large catalog as a result of its own previous acquisitions of other labels. It also has as one of its divisions, whether through acqusition or not I'm unclear, a gospel label. So I'm currently going through and setting up a bunch of stuff and inputting some things and just generally reconciling their catalog with ours. The problem is that we set everything up by catalog number, and some of the documents I need to classify don't have catalog numbers on them, just bits of titles. And since the only thing I knew about the label before this morning was that, er, we own them now, I've been familiarizing myself with the catalog piecemeal via allmusic and amazon searches. The funny thing is that I've been able to classify each project as gospel, classical, or other with total accuracy based solely on little fragments of the title. It's remarkably easy.
But the reason I am writing this is because of the name of one of these gospel groups, which is pretty much the best name ever. It is: THE MIGHTY CLOUDS OF JOY. Yes! Awesome! I want to be in The Mighty Clouds of Joy! Those are three such good and unlikely-to-be-combined words: mighty clouds! Clouds aren't mighty, though. Clouds of joy! Well, what the hell is that? Mighty joy! Huh? But MIGHTY CLOUDS OF JOY: awesome.
posted by Mike B. at 1:09 PM
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ROCK 'N' ROLL BON MOTS #025
I can't actually think of a DJ for whom this knowledge would be useful, but just in case, let me notify you that the Dictator's "Teengenerate" ends with exactly the same sound--same tone, more or less same timbre--as Neutral Milk Hotel's "King of Carrot Flowers 2&3" begins with. Use it wisely.
posted by Mike B. at 1:06 PM
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Wednesday, January 12, 2005
Tonight's episode of The Road to Stardom didn't have a moment quite as classic as last week's did, but there was still a lot of great stuff. First off, a bit of old business: one of the judges is Teena Marie! Ohmigod! I had no idea, but that's so cool.
The main great moment came when they all stopped at a crab shack in Maryland (!) and Frank B started in on Nic. It was just your usual reality-show tiff, but then all of a sudden the tour manager barges in and says, "LET'S HAVE AN MC BATTLE RIGHT HERE!" And Frank's all "Yeah!" but Nic's all, "Uh, I don't do MC battles." But Frank starts going, and Nic sits there and takes it, but when it's over, he says, "Yo, you compared me to Nelly!" in much the same tone of voice you'd say, "You compared me to that homeless guy who smells like pee!" Which was kinda fantastic. I like a world where disputes really are solved by MC battle.
In the judging, Missy had a few great lines:
1) "Ima tell you what Teena Marie said..."
2) "That's so nineteen and seventy-nine!"
3) To the " rock chick": "That sounds a little Britney to me."
Also, she's still working the lollypop thing. Also also, there was this one weird, random shot in between the two folks pleading their cases of one unnamed member of Missy's posse carefully but awkwardly readjusting her studied "cool" lean in the bus.
My two favorites so far are Marcus, who's a Sam Cookey crooner who's still got somewhat of an edge (his song this week revolved around the line "hump in the back," and was fantastic), and Deltrice, who hasn't really shined so much in the challenges but has total star quality. When she walks up to the mic she's totally self-composed, totally controlled, and she really draws in your gaze. Plus, she's hot and can sing well, so that works for me.
The worst by far is Akil, who is about as much a tool as you'd guess from the fact that he's white, has dreadlocks, and is from New Jersey, which is actually equivalent to saying that he's a homeless guy who smells like pee and strangles cats.
posted by Mike B. at 8:41 PM
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SONGS I LISTENED TO THIS YEAR THAT I LIKE A LOT (SILTTYTILAL) #4-2005: KIMYA DAWSON, "LOOSE LIPS" This was the highlight of her set opening for the Danielsens last month, but in recorded form its charms are even more distinct. Specifically, the thing that makes this song really great is that it could be like twelve different songs, and then it all comes together to be gloriously what it is. When it came on this morning I honestly thought it was Buddy Holly's "Rave On," which is fantastic, and then at various other points in the song it could be Billy Bragg or Andrew WK. And for the first few listens I didn't even catch the degree to which it really is a protest song, in some ways as strident as the ones that really get on my nerves, but it pulls it off in this fantastic way. What's important here to notice is the mapping of the song. (Lyrics are here.) There's the first verse, which is short, and more or less nonsensical, and then a blast of the chorus (although "blast" is relative in a song that only has acoustic guitar and voice and very sparse bells), which we'll get to later, before we slide into the second verse, which is sort of the greatest thing ever. It goes on for four sections before we get back to the chorus, and not only does it work, it packs more in here than a song with a very simple melody and the same 3 guitar chords over and over has any right to. First there's a joke ("i'll drop kick russell stover / move into the starting over house"), and then, two lines later, a fairly serious line about Bush ("all this shit our president has got us in will go away") and a straight-faced ending to the section. Following this, we have this little section that kinda makes me cry when I hear it, in a very happy/sad way, Kimya listing off these bad things you can to do yourself followed by "remember that I love you," which in some people's hands could be cloying and self-important, but in hers it's nothing but honest: she does love you, really, and while the actual impact of that might be small, she knows that, and she's cool with that. It's a simple thing but really touching and lovely, especially when she ends it with this sort of comic understatement of "call me up before your dead, we can make some plans instead / send me an IM, i'll be your friend." Then we sort of ease out of this with a bit more seriousness and hopefulness, and then another just totally straightfoward political line, "i'll say fuck Bush and fuck this war," followed immediately by a poop joke: "my war paint is sharpie ink and i'll show you how much my shit stinks," followed by another sort of cheesily earnest line, "your thoughts and words are powerful", followed, again, by a leavening monkey joke, and then ending on a bit of nonsense, before we launch into the chorus. Now, this chorus. This chorus is insane. This chorus is totally and wholly happy. It is about being happy and being with your friends and getting crazy and then getting sane and then getting crazy again. It would sound great like hair metal or like pop-punk or like disco, but it's just someone with her guitar, singing along with herself, and that is what it's chosen to be. But coming after this fantastic verse, with its series of earnest statements undercut by banalities, it becomes even more powerful, because you really do think Kimya wants to have a defiant good time, not just be defiant. Just as the "remember that I love you" section contains an admission of how little that means, so do the politics sections ring infinitely more true coupled with an acknowledgment of its own inadequacy. It is a song that knows its limitations but insists on its own loveliness, and it is lovely, and it does so many things so quick that you have to listen to it again and again, and you should, you should. This is exactly why I wish I could turn in my (admittedly meaningless) lists later, because man, this is best of 2004, no question about it. I would very much like to hear it covered. I would also like to hear it with a crowd that knows all the words and sings along as loud as it can.
posted by Mike B. at 6:34 PM
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Hey, so remember how I was talking about critical authority? And how I'm declaring that I have it now? Well, it doesn't just apply to music, no no no. it also extends to politics. And with this in mind, let me present the first in what might be a series, which will be called assume the position, in which I will explain how you should think about a certain political issue. This one will be about retardedly anti-Israel professors.
As is seemingly always the case when it comes to Israel, both sides are being idiots. On the one hand, as is suggested by the way I put the topic, the professors are just being stupid, basing their positions in a kind of kneejerk anti-Americanism, and then presenting them based on a (I hope) consciously innaccurate view of Israel, blaming the country as an entity where it's far more sensible to say, "maybe we shouldn't be quite so strenuously supporting quite so murderous a particular political leader." And we won't even get into the whole romantic notion of the PLO issue right now, because that's not really the point. There seems to be more than enough evidence in the film of professors saying things that are just straightforwardly wrong, and beyond that, of taking an extremist position in a situation where neither extreme seems like a particularly sensible place to be; that there's no moral center anymore in that conflict is a huge part of the problem.
On the other hand, the students need to stop being such goddamn pussies. Look, folks, argue back. If you don't have the courage to oppose stupid ideas, you don't really belong in college. And beyond that, don't say the professors should be fired, because then you're saying someone should be fired for their political beliefs, and you realize that's a bad idea, right? There's a reason we have tenure, and as soon as you start getting rid of it, it will very quickly go the opposite way, and you'll end up in a situation much like the one we seem to have in public schools right now where talking about politics is verboten, and that seems like just a really bad idea for an institution of higher learning.
So should you want to assume the position, here's what it is:
The professors are/were being morons. Not only are their positions wrong, they are expressing them in highly unprofessional and anti-intellectual ways.
But they should not be fired, because that would be firing someone for their political beliefs, and that's a bad idea.
In the future, hiring and tenure committees should be aware of this problem, and try not to hire and/or give tenure to professors that have dumbass political beliefs and express them in ways that are dictatorial rather than open to debate. [REVISION: They should do this if students at the particular university can convincingly, intelligently, and calmly make the case that the committees should do this, or course, not just reflexively. Also, this is not to say that professors should be rejected for their political views, just that if they're bad teachers or lazy thinkers--which behaviors it sure seems like some of the professors at Columbia are exhibiting--they probably shouldn't be hired or retained, because that ain't good no matter what the subject. While ideally a professor would take a moderate view of the situation, certainly both the mainly pro-Israel and mainly pro-Palestinian cases can be made with a modicum of intelligence and respect, and as long as they can do this, fair enough.]
Students should be aware of these tendencies in certain profs and should avoid their classes if this bothers them.
Remember that there is no place in the entire universe more sensitive about difference than colleges, and if you can't cut it there, you delicate little flower, do you really think you're going to be able to change the world? [REVISION: Plus, both sides could really stand to remember that students aren't brainless automatons, either, and are fully capable of not agreeing with their professors, no matter what crazy-ass beliefs they espouse. I know a few professors who can attest to this, although in their cases it would be nice if the damn kids would actually learn something.]
Future topics include malpractice insurance and, oh I dunno, cucumbers.
posted by Mike B. at 1:49 PM
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Ohmigod, I just got an e-mail from L*st N1ght's P*rty saying that I had been added to their e-mail list. Which I did not ask to be on. Which means that they added me to it on the basis of my post regarding their charming little website. Uh, hello, dumbasses, did you miss the part where I called you an ugly version of Girls Gone Wild? Did you think that was a compliment? Because it wasn't, OK? Numbnuts.
posted by Mike B. at 1:13 PM
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This will presumably be a SILTTYTILAL at some point, once I catch up a bit, but for now all I'm going to say is go download the Salt 5 song "Get Up! Rapper" and listen the hell out of it, and notice particularly how much it does, weirdly, sound like the Gwen Stefani album. (Why does everyone keep saying it's 80s retreads?) We'll discuss more at some point, but if someone ( Deric?) wants to point me to some more stuff, especially a good compilation, I'd be incredibly grateful. This is so obviously my kind of stuff that I'm like pre-obsessed. If that makes any sense.
posted by Mike B. at 11:35 AM
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Four new Flagpole reviews: Eminem, Aloha (you can stop bugging me now, Caroline!), Gwen Stefani, and Vanessa Carlton. I think I'm happiest with the Carlton one right now, actually, although that may just be because of the Tori Amos joke. Follow-ups to, er, follow on ones that I want to follow up on, but nothing overly likely in this batch.
posted by Mike B. at 10:34 AM
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Tuesday, January 11, 2005
I've only been able to catch half of one episode of The Road To Stardom, i.e. Making the Band but with Missy Elliot instead of P. Diddy and in a bus instead of in a house, but one segment of it was just amazingly classic. The way the elimination works on this show is that there's a challenge, then the judges deliberate and pick two people to "go before Missy," who then chooses one person to "kick off the tour." (Neither of these may actually be quotes, but they're in the spirit of the show, at least.) So in this particular episode, the two people who have to plead their case are a white girl rapper and a white guy rapper. White girl goes to Missy first (and, charmingly, her judging takes place not in a carefully-designed set but at one of the dinky tables in a tour bus--Missy doesn't have time to go to a set, she's got more hits to make!), and says that the judges were wrong to say that she seemed fake, that this is how she's livin' it. Missy says OK, well, why don't you show me what you can do. White girl launches into a verse, at the conclusion of which Missy starts dismissively but very cooly sucking on her lollypop. (Which, yes. I could do like 1500 words just on that, man. We'd get into PJ Harvey, Prince, oh, it would be great. Too bad I'm busy at work.) White girl finishes. Missy says, you were talking about hip-hop. You like hip-hop? White girl says yeah, I love hip-hop, it's my life. Missy says OK. Can you name a Big Daddy Kane album.
White girl freezes. Swear to god she was like half a second away from saying, "Who?" but stopped herself. Kind of stutters something. Missy says, OK, OK, you're young, right? When'd you start listening to hip-hop? White girl says, when I was 13. Missy says, OK. How 'bout an early Jay-Z album? Can you rap me some of that? White girl freezes again. She's got nothing. She's done.
So then white boy goes in, does a verse, but all he'd have to do at this point to survive is not, like, punch Missy in the face. So he's in.
It was fucking fantastic. Certainly the most embarassing thing I've ever seen on TV. OK, admittedly I'm a music nerd, but if Missy Elliot revealed me as a total fraud on national TV, I don't think I'd ever show my face in public again. It was also just generally great. I'm hooked. And I might write some more about it later.
UPDATE: Orbis Quintus has some follow-up comments.
posted by Mike B. at 3:45 PM
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"Even leaving it at that, this would seem to imply that blogs are still going to be strong competition for record reviewers. Maybe so, but think about this weird symbiotic relationship that's been going on recently: many bloggers hit the big-time when they cross over into other media like print..."
Uh, that's cause then we get paid, dude. I'm not just selling my mix tapes out of the back of a car anymore, which is nice, but the hustle just changes, it don't go away. On the other hand, I'm not entirely sure my audience is actually bigger...but then, I live in a li'l bubble, don't I?
Anyway, the link comes via Nate and has links to some very good articles, the intro notwithstanding. I'll be picking through it by and by.
ADDENDUM: I'm not even going to get into "more conservative music criticism will be coming our way," even though I might like to. Does that include meeee? And what the fuck would conservative music criticism be, anyway? Modest Mouse reviews that want to cut corporate taxes?
posted by Mike B. at 1:19 PM
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Whoa, they're talking about me over at the Saddle Creek message board. I feel kind of dirty.
posted by Mike B. at 11:02 AM
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Monday, January 10, 2005
This is going to be kind of vague, but nevertheless...
I just got a call from my former doctor, who is apparently doing some sort of presentation on people with my condition who are involved with music. I answered his questions politely, though it was somewhat awkward given that I am at work and, as should be obvious from this post, it's not something I'm entirely comfortable talking about in public. But I was helpful and reasonably friendly.
What I really wanted to say to him, though, was something more along the lines of, "Fuck you, asshole. You're supposed to be some sort of goddamn expert, and it came through in this conversation, in your tone of voice, in the way you asked me questions: you are a Very Important Person and Know Lots Of Things About This Subject. But you wouldn't listen to me back when I was actually your patient; you wouldn't take me seriously, and it wasn't until I got to New York and started seeing a doctor whose main clientele was cute old Chinese ladies in for PT that I got a medication that actually worked and didn't fuck me up. You refer to it as 'very unusual,' but I've met other people on it, and it works really well for them, too, and if you were a real doctor instead of an egotistical dickhead, you would be offering it, too. But I gather from the way you phrase the question that you are not. You asshole. You wanna ask me if my condition has impeded my career in music? It hasn't. But you know what impeded my life? Your treatment, motherfucker. I hope you get eaten by a marmet, and I don't even know how that would work."
This is not what I said, of course; but still.
posted by Mike B. at 6:10 PM
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