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“They had never seen anything like them in San Diego, and what they saw began to shatter the boring, stultifying sameness of the local music scene into a million pieces. The wild-eyed singer snarled and leapt about like a monkey, all the while shaking a pair of maracas and banging on a cow bell, wine bottle or beer can. The drummer hid behind a relic of a kit and pounded his tom-toms like they were tribal war drums. The tall,…
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