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Counting Crows flew onto the radar in late 1993 and soared to stardom at a rather unlikely time — one of heavy guitar distortion, growling angst, and ubiquitous flannel. They entered that scene a straight-ahead rock band with heartland flavor and a mopey, dreadlocked singer who aired his grievances in whispers as often as wails through what felt like poetry originating from his most vulnerable and insecure depths. Hell, maybe the timing was just lousy enough to be perfect, because millions across the world connected.
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