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GROWING UP ABSURD WITH THE THOMPSON TWINS

Scampering around in the British dancepop maze is a painful business at best. You wind up like the little white lab mouse that keeps bashing its head on the same old wall in search of a breadcrumb that's probably old and stale anyway; or worse yet, clean and white and tasteless, some insubstantial, artificial, scientific Wonderloaf that'll make you wither up and die if you don't throw up first.

September 1, 1984
Sylvie Simmons

GROWING UP ABSURD WITH THE THOMPSON TWINS

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