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Twiglet fingers

The intro goes here, it runs over three lines and should gently undermine the confidence of our columnist… what? We’ve not written an intro? gah
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Guitars Made of Digital

High on powdered chocolate, again, our resident columnist Fat Roland attempts to explain why florists called Clint are essential for synth construction…
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Basingstoke. Kraftwerk. Karaoke slam.

Our so-called “columnist” with a pile of words in some kind of order. His column feels like that day your parents moved house and didn’t think to mention it. Eh? Not happened to you? Just us then…
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A Dog Ate My Fingers

Like a Rat up drainpipe, our columnist is as naked as a Jaybird and proud as a Peacock… he’s a sitting Duck. let sleeping Dogs lie. look, it’s complicated