From "The In Crowd" to the "Happy People"
Spanning 40 years, Simon Mallett traces the evolution and rise of club culture.
"Let's fight prejudice and popular misconceptions. For, when you talk about the classic elements of Mod philosophy and lifestyle, you are talking about one of the higher forms of art, and so should have no qualms about exploding new theories and examining deeply" - Kevin Pearce (November 1994)
“This is the age of giving the old influences a new coat of paint. There's something classic about mods that's far more relevant to now than other tribes. They were eclectic from the start." - DJ Gilles Peterson (April 2001)
The Modernist lifestyle that began in London in the late 1950s was one of the first recognisable manifestations of the global culture that clubbing and dance music have become.
There is no doubt about this. The original music and symbolism of '60s modernism are part of British cultural history but the spirit, the code and the lifestyle associated with the movement have never died or stayed still - they have simply been adopted and adapted by successive generations. Those pill poppin', all-night dancin', self-obsessed, hedonist, consumerists that we know and love were just the blueprint, the prototype for a teenage culture that has, 40 years on, spread across the nation and most of the western world.
Pete Meaden famously once said "Mods were, for me, the revolution, they're like the VietCong out in Cambodia...they've always been fighting in a minority group, against the vast armour of the American army". He was partly right and partly wrong. They may have started out as a small insurgent group, but their descendants have marched to a slow and decisive global victory - without shedding a drop of blood.
OK, maybe this isn’t exactly a new theory but let’s take up Kevin Pearce’s challenge and ‘examine deeply’…
The idea of spinning discs to a room of people was not new in the late 1950s. According to "Last Night A DJ Saved My Life" (Bill Brewster & Frank Broughton), the very first person to think up the crazy idea of putting two turntables side-by-side and filling a dance hall with the sound of recorded music was none other than one Jimmy Saville - in 1946.
It is safe to say that Jimmy probably didn't envisage a brave new world from behind his turntables in the upper room of Otley Working Men's Club, West Yorkshire. Nevertheless, the simple entertainment format that he had pioneered soon caught on. So much so that Mecca Ballrooms hired him to introduce the concept at their own chain of dancehall venues - thus establishing the idea of what we now know as clubs and clubbing up and down the country. It is easy to underestimate how important this could have been in a world where dancehalls were always about live music. Suddenly, they were about a DJ (previously a phenomenon known only to radio listeners) and his collection of recorded music. Not everyone could be a musician but anyone with a reasonably tuned ear could spin a few records…
By the late '50s, the idea was well established in the UK, but the first permanent venues that were properly known as "discotheques" (venues that were playing only recorded music) were in Paris. These were the sort of places frequented by chic Parisians like Alain Delon and Jean-Paul Belmondo. It is here that the idea of the club as a nocturnal host to a clique of people who form a 'scene' was born. The French-style discotheques arrived in London very quickly.
If it was Jimmy Saville who pioneered the idea of playing recorded music as a form of 'live' entertainment and the French who turned the concept into a refined social pursuit, it was the early mods who brought the idea to fruition. The earliest recognisable (as we know it) dance club was Ian Samwell at the Lyceum in London. These sessions began in 1961. Samwell would play his phenomenal collection of American r'n'b 45s to packed audiences of enthusiastic modernists. The venue had all of the elements that have come to represent club culture - a star DJ with an impressive connoisseur record collection, a sound system, a dance floor, special lighting and a discerning clientele. The music was new and exciting and caught on very quickly.
By 1963, the place to be seen was The Scene - a club in Ham Yard, Soho. The main attraction was resident DJ Guy Stevens - a man obsessed with the music and able to fulfil the demand for it by importing incredibly rare new sounds from America.
There was also The Flamingo, La Discotheque, the Ad-Lib and Tiles on Shaftesbury Avenue. Tiles was a fully themed club which was made up to look like a London back street. It featured a mini-mall of shops and a sign reading "Tiles Street".
Part owner of the club was Jim Marshall of Marshall Amplification, a fact that assured the premises a decent sound system. Amongst the regular DJs were Ian Samwell, Jeff Dexter, Clem Dalton and Kenny Everett. The essence of the club was captured eloquently by Tom Wolfe in his book "The Pump House Gang". Visiting a lunchtime session, he vividly described the venue and its teenage clothes-and-music-obsessed participants as "the noonday underground".
The mod obsession with black American music is described by Patrick Uden in Paolo Hewitt's "Soul Stylists". The slick Motown sound was particularly favoured but there were 100s of similar 45s being produced in the studios of Detroit and Chicago. Most that reached the UK were - due to import restrictions - only in limited numbers and fell into the hands of DJs like Samwell and Stevens. You could occasionally buy cover versions of popular tunes but as Uden says: "We didn't want the cover. What's the point of having a cover if you're a mod....you want the original one on the original label". Uden goes on to describe the boom in trade of imported American vinyl that occurred as a result. "So immediately, of course, shops start to crop up all over the place and these guys used to go, literally, they would go to the States, they would buy records and they would bring them back and they would sell them…
The one I remember best was the Charles Street Sound System, but there were many others".
Like all teenage phenomena that gain in popularity, the original ideas behind it water themselves down as they transfer to a wider audience. As the mod cult spread, it lost the exclusivity and clique mentality that typified the regular crowd at the Soho clubs. The scene went on to produce its own bands and these bands came to symbolise the mass movement - and miss the original point of it altogether.
But the love of black music, dancing, forming a clique - clubbing - was firmly established. The original mod movement may have withered on the vine but away from the spotlight, hidden from view (as it should be) the ideas behind it simply bubbled away.
One of the focal points of this continuation of the mod lifestyle was the Twisted Wheel in Manchester. The influence of this place is not something that can be underestimated. The club opened its doors in 1963 and continued right on through to 1971. Again, the main attraction was the club's DJ Roger Eagle and his phenomenal record collection. It is by no means a coincidental that Roger Eagle was a friend of Guy Stevens and that Stevens was a visitor from time to time, supplying Eagle with some of his vinyl.
At first the musical policy was a broad range of black American music from blues through modern jazz to soul but, dictated by the demands of the club's dancers, this changed almost exclusively to uptempo soul records. Favoured labels were Chess, Checker, Ric Tic and Okeh. Later on, Eagle became frustrated by the musical policy. Being a fan of everything from Charlie Mingus to Smokey Robinson, he felt limited by the demand for a certain kind of soul music and decided to quit the club. Other DJs eagerly took his place and played the sounds the clubbers wanted to hear.
The Twisted Wheel was very much an extension of the original mod scene. At first, the fashion was for the classic suited mod look but later on casual clothes such as Ben Sherman and Brutus shirts became the norm. The original venue for the club was in Brazennose Street - which would regularly be lined with scooters. Eventually, enthusiasts would travel from all over the country to take part in the experience, echoing the acid house/rave culture that exploded in the UK 20 years later.
Current Solar Radio DJ Max Rees remembers as a teenager how older mods in his home town of Cambridge would travel to places like the Twisted Wheel in Manchester and the Whisky in London and would, in turn, influence the fashions people wore and the music played at local discos. It is easy to see how the popularity of soul music and the lifestyle subsequently spread out around the country from these clubs and the people that travelled long distances to visit them.
The Wheel closed in 1971 due to problems with the licence but such was the popularity of the format, soul clubs based on it had already spread across the country. Blues & Soul magazine journalist Dave Godin coined the term “Northern Soul” to describe the phenomenon after a visit to the Wheel in the early ‘70s but we now usually associate the term in particular with the Wigan Casino - which actually opened in 1973.
There were also other famous venues such as The Highland Room at the Blackpool Mecca and The Torch in Stoke-On-Trent and countless smaller, less famous venues around the country.
The Casino was so successful that it literally became a household name. Russ Winstanley, the founding DJ, claims that by the mid ‘70s virtually everyone between the age of 16 and 30 had either been or knew someone who had. A slightly extravagant claim perhaps - but to underline its reputation and popularity, it is worth noting that Billboard magazine voted the Casino the “world’s best discotheque” in 1978. This was around the same time that the legendary Studio 54 in New York was at its peak.
Around this time there was a split in the Northern Soul scene. The original scene was still in full throttle - as is witnessed by the popularity of Wigan - but, by now, a newer more sophisticated sound was emerging at venues such as the Blackpool Mecca. The Mecca playlist leaned increasingly towards a number of contemporary disco and jazz-funk records that still had that typical ‘northern’ tempo. These would include tunes such as Aquarian Dream’s “Phoenix” and The Carstairs “It Really Hurts Me Girl” which were really just earthy disco records. To this day most people still consider Northern Soul in terms of the Motown sound but, in it’s entirety, the scene encompassed all of the rhythmical developments that occurred in black American music from the day that the Twisted Wheel opened it’s doors in 1973.
Northern Soul (which, as we’ve seen, was a direct descendant of the original mod scene) properly laid the foundation for clubbing in the UK. If you were to substitute American Soul music for House and take account of 20 years of fast-paced changes in clothing fashion, it might just be impossible to tell the two apart. It was certainly instrumental in creating a network of clubs, DJs, record collectors and dealers and was the first musical scene to provide the British charts with records that sold on the strength of club play. Today, this is virtually the number one way Top 40 hit dance records are generated - a white label is released to a group of influential DJs, a following is built up for the record and then it is released to the mass market.
Many of the prime movers on the Northern circuit moved on to become influential figures in pop/dance music in the 80s and 90s. Notable among these would be Pete Waterman who was a major DJ on the Northern Soul circuit in the midlands area of England. Waterman (as one-third of the Stock, Aitken and Waterman production team) went on to produce a string of pop/soul/dance acts in the 1980s that propelled the commercial end of dance music firmly into the pop mainstream. They then moved into outright pop producing acts such as Kylie Minogue and Rick Astley.
Another Northern Soul exile is Mike Pickering, who later became a pioneering House music DJ at the world-famous Hacienda club which actually stood in Whitworth Street, Manchester - the same street as the second home of the Twisted Wheel. The “Haci” is as important to this story as the Twisted Wheel and we will be returning to it later. He was also A & R man at Factory Records and one of the men behind dance acts T-Coy and M-People along with Mark Bell (later an in-house producer for De-Construction records). Bell was a regular ‘face’ at the Blackpool Mecca and also on the jazz-funk scene that subsequently sprang up in the seaside town influenced by the Mecca’s progressive playlist.
The famed Blackpool Mecca DJ Ian Levine himself produced a number of mid-80s British soul/funk and Hi-Nrg records and, like Waterman, became one of the svengalis behind some of the much maligned British pop/dance acts of the late 80s and early 90s.
Other Northern DJ’s who went on to become influential DJs in dance music were the likes of Richard Searling, Ian Dewhirst and Colin Curtis. In various ways, every one of these people had a direct influence on contemporary dance music.
But, Northern Soul wasn't the only scene that was directly cross pollinated from sixties Modernism. Many of the original mods who forged their love for black American music in the dancehalls of Soho in the sixties went on to become part of other Dance music movements.
Chris Hill, a Scene Club regular, became an influential soul DJ in the south of England.
His exploits at the Goldmine in Canvey Island and the Lacy Lady in Ilford (both satellite towns in Essex to the east of London - a mod stronghold if ever there were) in the late 1970s and early 80s led to an explosion in popularity for black dance music and clubbing south of “Watford Gap” (that symbolic frontier between the north and south of England).
At the pinnacle of this movement were the infamous Soul Weekends at places such as Caister and Bognor Regis. Just as in the Wigan Casino heyday, clubbers rolled up in coaches from all over Britain to take part. To complete the circle, these events even attracted renegade northern soul fans who would travel down the country to dance alongside their southern counterparts. Some of the events such as the popular ‘All-Dayers’ at the Top Rank Suite in Reading tried to accommodate both parties by having separate rooms in the same venue for Northern Soul and Jazz Funk.
The white sock 'soul boy' fraternity that sprang up around these clubs was unarguably the south's answer to Northern Soul. In this instance, the taste was for the very latest hard-to-find jazz funk and soulful disco music. It should also be pointed out that there was a big crossover of records played at the more progressive northern soul venues such as the Highland Rooms in Blackpool and those played at the ‘southern’ clubs and soul weekends.
There were also a number of Central London clubs that span this period and mirrored or later continued the Goldmine/Lacy Lady style. These include Crackers and Special Branch at the Zoo. Many of the people involved in these clubs as DJs and punters formed the nucleus of the early House and Garage events in the city. This would include names such as Nicky Holloway, Judge Jules and Pete Tong who were amongst the first southern DJs to latch on to House music whilst London continued to resist the trend in favour of Rare Groove, Go-Go, Hip Hop and Acid Jazz.
Many of the ultra-fashionable “pre-House” club and music scenes that occurred in the south in the 1980s came directly out of and bear heavily the influence of the 'soul boy' movement. Amongst these you would have to include:
British jazz-funk or 'Brit-Funk' which inspired the early New Romantic scene…
The ‘club jazz’ movement that focused itself around clubs such as The Wag in Wardour Street (coincidentally in the same building as the original basement Whisky-A-Go-Go club which was popular with the original mods). Bands such as Animal Nightlife, Sade and Working Week represented this movement…
The infamous Family Funktion and Shake & Fingerpop warehouse parties that gave rise to Rare Groove and Acid Jazz…
Even the first Ibiza weekends were 'soul boy' events that were an attempt to export the 'soul weekender' parties and its regulars to sunnier climes…
As if to underline the continuum of this story, the list of DJs that were involved in the in all of the pre-House club scenes that sprang out of the 'soul-boy' movement reads like a mini-who's who of today's Dance music scene. It includes Boy George, Bobbi & Steve, Gilles Peterson, Patrick Forge, James Lavelle and Trevor Nelson amongst others.
There is a further twist to this thread of the story - the effect that the late ‘70s mod revival had upon the music that was played in some of the London clubs. The mod revival was initially focused around new wave bands such as Squire and the Purple Hearts and was inspired by just a few fairly narrow reference points. Mod revivalists didn’t look much further than The Who for musical influence and took on the late 60s/early 70s “hard mod” look. The look and attitude was also heavily informed by the scruffy DIY ethic of punk. Later on however, as the scene developed, some of the new converts to the mod lifestyle began to look back at the original pre-1965 movement and the type of music the original ‘purist’ mods used to listen too. After a while they shunned the obvious references and delved deeper into the world of soul and r’n’b. The first manifestation of this was an explosion of interest in Northern Soul in London in the early 80s, helped along by the release of the Kent compilation LP series. In parallel with Paul Weller and The Style Council, some took this interest in black American music even further - into the realms of jazz and funk. These people fed directly into the club-jazz and rare groove scenes taking with them the classic ‘mod look’. The height of this natural fusion of styles was the heavily mod-influenced Acid Jazz movement. As if to underline the point, Eddie Piller (the man who owned the record label that took on the “Acid Jazz” name) had been one of the prime movers on the mod revival scene.
It is worth mentioning that, as far as the popular music press were concerned, none of this actually happened. Famously, none of these scenes were ever properly acknowledged whilst they were happening. From the late ‘70s onwards, as far as the NME, Sounds, Record Mirror and Melody Maker were concerned, punk had been the absolute year zero for popular culture. The mod revival was, at best, ridiculed (perhaps deservedly so) and Black music/Dance music and club culture were just ignored. During the late '70s and early to mid ‘80s when thousands of young people were living the 'soul-boy' lifestyle, only punk, new wave and indie made the headlines. At its very worst, the lifestyle was openly looked down upon and sneered at. Perhaps this attitude and lack of exposure served only to add its longevity? And perhaps the failure to cater for something like 50% of its potential audience is one of the reasons why so little of the popular music press has managed to survive the turn of the century?
It was only with the advent of the so-called 'style' press and magazines such as 'The Face' that popular, sympathetic coverage finally came about. With this sort of coverage, the clandestine world of black music and clubbing began its meteoric rise into the mainstream.
The time now comes to add the culture and music of Hip Hop and House to the mix. The invention of the sampler and the development of live mixing techniques changed black American music irrevocably. It is inconceivable that this would have had no affect upon the British dance music scene but it did not happen overnight. And, like the rest of this story, it happened in “secret”. To understand this it is necessary to go back to the tail end of the true Northern Soul scene and the city that was at its epi-centre.
The Wigan Casino closed at the turn of the 1980s. Like The Twisted Wheel a decade earlier, this was due to problems with the licensing of the venue rather than a lack of interest in the music and lifestyle that it was associated with. Whilst many of the Wigan-ites moved into retirement, DJs such as Richard Searling continued to play more contemporary black music in clubs around the North of England. Others such as Mike Pickering began trying to make their own music. Pickering became involved in the Factory Records label - first as an artist with his band Quando Quango and then as an A & R man. Shortly after the closure of the Casino, Factory Records boss Anthony Wilson decided to open a club in Manchester. New Order, the band that the label was based around, had been recording in New York with disco producer Arthur Baker and had frequented clubs such as the Danceteria and Paradise Garage. The idea of the new club, which was to be called the Hacienda, was to bring the New York style of club to Manchester.
Initially, Wilson recruited Hewan Clark as the club’s resident DJ. Clark had been a soul/funk DJ at the Reno in Manchester and had toured as a support act to one of Wilson’s bands called A Certain Ratio. Wilson felt that he was playing the sort of music that should be heard at this new club.
The Hacienda was not a great success at first. Many of the clientele were drawn in to the club on the strength of Factory records reputation as an indie label and were disappointed to hear this strange mix of disco and funk. But the music policy continued and, slowly, Hacienda club goers began to appreciate what was going on.
John McCready brilliantly described this osmotic process in an article in The Face in 1997:
“A whole generation of NME readers, completely unaware of jazz funk and Northern Soul, their own rules already written in stone, slowly picked up the idea that you could listen to the Smiths in the daytime while trying to get your head (and your feet) around George Clinton's 'Atomic Dog' at night. The Haçienda, trusted because of its impeccable indie associations (the thinking being, these people brought us Joy Division, how could they be wrong about Cameo?), almost single-handedly took white Manchester beyond the Poly bop mentality and slowly into the black technological futures of electro, funk and disco. The club created a space where new cultural responses to this musical cross-pollination could grow at their own pace. At first the music acted as a kind of sonic seasoning - tolerated, often grudgingly accepted, then, with increasing enthusiasm, requested. The Haçienda's progressive attitude at this time ensured that when pre-movement house music began to appear, those seeing the rhythmic holes in funk-lite white pop were ready.”
Mike Pickering took over the DJ residency at the Hacienda in the mid 80s. The cutting edge of black American music was already beginning to change under the influence of some of the post-disco New York and Chicago DJs and their reciprocal interest in European electronic music. Ironically, a good deal of this influence was coming from music produced in northern industrial cities such as Manchester and Sheffield and included, in particular, some of the bands on the Factory Record label. Pickering began to play some of the early House records by the likes of Steve ‘Silk’ Hurley and Adonis and found the Hacienda audience readily receptive to a kind of music that seemed to complete a full circle for them: their own music exported to America and sent back with an injection of black funkiness.
Pickering immediately saw the parallels between House and the Northern Soul scene he had been a part of and has said that one of the reasons that House caught on in Manchester was because of the city’s Northern Soul heritage. He even claims that some of the Northern dancers (Wigan Casino had only been closed for about two or three years at the time) used to come to House nights at the Hacienda because they could dance the same way to the new music.
Of the Casino/Hacienda similarities, John McCready notes:
“…the similarities were clear - same tempo, same obsession with the obscure musical products of black America. Had the Casino survived, both clubs would have been places of worship at either end of the East Lancashire Road - like the twin cathedrals spanning Liverpool's Hope Street. Except that this time the religion would have been the same.”
Manchester, with The Hacienda club as its focus, was pivotal in the acceptance of this new music in Britain. This was because House music was, in truth, nothing more than a continued development of the kind of black music that began with the four-to-the-floor Northern soul, Philly soul and disco that was played at Wigan Casino and the Blackpool Mecca (both just a few miles down the road) a few years earlier.
There are still people around who span the thirty years this process has taken to complete. I mentioned Solar Radio soul/funk/dance DJ Max Rees. Max’s enduring love of black American music was formed as a teenager during the tail end of the sixties mod scene frequenting The Torch in Stoke and the Blackpool Mecca. Dance DJ Steve Luigi, who also owns Choonz record shop in Leeds, was another regular northern soul club goer in the 1970s. He fondly remembers travelling around the North Of England on his Lambretta Li 150 - in fact, he still rides a scooter today. And, like Max, he will happily drop a vintage “Northern” set if asked. Steve sums up his influences in one simple line: “The Love of Underground Dance Music, from early R&B (Mod Music) especially "Northern Soul", right up to today's trends.”
Back in the South of England, house music didn’t catch on quite as quickly. As already noted, there were a plethora of trendy pre-house music club scenes taking place that were rooted in retro/revived black American music and there was some resistance when the first London DJs made the switch. But the rhythmical influence of house and the surrounding DJ culture did eventually catch-on and most of the Acid Jazzers and Rare Groovers followed suit. Mike Pickering DJ’ed at “Fever” at the Astoria in London in early 1987 and recalls:
“I was playing House music and I got booed. They were booing, folding their arms, looking at me. Black guys were passing me notes saying 'Why are you playing this Chicago homo music?'… eight months later, I played at the Trip at the same venue, the Astoria, and they were all blowing whistles and going absolutely mad to exactly the same records.”
That is not to say that you cannot find clubs playing old music, on the contrary - revived classic disco, funk and soul are regular features of some DJs sets. More importantly, most of the self-respecting musicians who create today’s dance music are avid collectors of these old records. If any confirmation of this is needed, just take a listen to modern dance music - it is often a game of spot-the-vintage-soul/funk/disco-sample.
And so today, Dance music is still the movement that embodies all of the spirit of the Lyceum, the Scene Club, the Twisted Wheel, Wigan Casino and the Blackpool Mecca. The movement is focused on House music but this is nothing more and nothing less than a contemporary manifestation of Black American r'n'b/soul music. It is obvious to anyone with a broad interest in club music that there was just a continual evolution of rhythm and instrumentation from the 60s through to the 80s to today.
Punk was such a massive cultural shock that - to this day - it has distorted our historical view of popular culture. But while punk stole all the headlines, disco and jazz funk bumped along quite happily in the background.
No, of course clubbers don't wear Parkas or ride scooters (though both are in fashion). What they do, though, is live and breathe the lifestyle the first mods embarked upon. All teenage cultures are an evolution from the past - they are never carbon copies. The conclusion is inevitable: Mod was the template for today's dance and club culture. They share the same mentality and the very same love for black American dance music. It's the same way of life re-invented over and over in each generation.
[Published 15 October 2002]
Other articles on Uppers you might enjoy
|Pam Jacky and Loz||nov 16 2005 3:31PM|
|heeeeey, the three of us used to dance at the global village regularly, lacey lady now and then too....cooool...memories....|
|Vegetableman||jun 7 2005 4:39PM|
|Great article to stumble upon. I was a regular at the Lacy Lady and the Goldmine in 76/77.Great times.The Lacy Lady was a big influence on the early punk scene fashion wise, a fact that is rarely acknowledged.Thos days at the above clubs and Crackers et al rarely get's a mention in any pages of musical and style history. It's time the truth were told!|
|Mike Wiand||maj 16 2004 12:40AM|
|I am surprised that you never mentioned the Warehouse, Leeds. It was there before the Hacienda and is still there. Soul, Jazz funk, house, techno not mentioning live entertainment and the start of many groups but also some of the best dj's in the U.K. Steve Luigi, Ian Dewhirst, and the master mixer Greg James etc....whatever??|
|liarns||dec 2 2002 3:10PM|
|very nice article.. in depth!|
|john||nov 3 2002 2:07PM|
|also like to add , that the goldmine was not a patch on CRACKERS that was THE LONDON SOULBOY venue where the real dressers and dancers went....|
|john||nov 3 2002 2:01PM|
|great article , at last someone who actually acknowledges that Soul scene did exsist south of Watford in the 70,s..... Crackers, Billys , 100 club, Chagaramas all in the West End, The Goldmine, Lacy Lady , California Ballrooms,|
Scamps, Skindles, Frenchies, The Belverde , Global Village , Whisky A-GO-GO. Baracuddas , Atlantis margate, Chelsea Village Bournemouth, Yate all dayers, Reading Top Rank, With the occassional trip to Wigan and Blackpool Mecca..... we got the funk.....
|Bob G||okt 31 2002 11:20AM|
|Jules> Yes - I usually refer to you as bastard also. Only behind your back, mind... :)|
|Jules Olivier||okt 17 2002 4:07AM|
|Simon - Excellent. Nice reading as always. Thanks.|
Bob G - I don't know about you but I usually refer to myself as bastard.
|Helen||okt 16 2002 12:12PM|
|.......as long as I don't have to wear those horrible furry Yeti boots.......|
|Jean-Marc||okt 16 2002 9:25AM|
|... the clubbers of yesterday ???|
|Bob G||okt 16 2002 9:01AM|
|IDENTITIY CRISIS!! If clubbers are the 'Mods' of today, what the hell are we...??|
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