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After expulsion from the forces, the General assembled an elite fighting unit. Clad in razor-sharp, custom-tailored battlewear they rendezvous at the General Khaki barracks in London's fashionable east end, honing to laser-guided precision a breathtaking assualt of Jagged Beefheart/Buzzcocks bubblegum hooks, detonated with the breakneck speed of the music the kids call 'hardcore' and the raw, raw guitars of that which they call ‘garage’, after the venue in which it is traditionally performed.
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