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Raindrops, thunder, crickets and monkeys, footsteps, heartbeats, birdsong, trains. Thereβs the sound of a mother kissing her child, saying, βBe a good boy,β and all manner of songs: classical, drums, bagpipes, yelling, Pygmy girls chanting, Chuck Berry. The vinyl pops. The songs pile up. It keeps snowing. Mr. Bell announces each new track. Russian, Bulgarian, pan pipes, Mexican, Azerbaijani. Stravinsky. One song, just a man with a guitar. The man hums and moans. βBlind Willie Johnson. βDark Was the Night.
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Samantha Hunt (Mr. Splitfoot)