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 Record 

Record is (as a noun) any set of data kept, and (as a verb) to set down data to be kept. Such data may be writing, audio, digital, or other media.

For the sound recording type of record that spins on a turntable, known as a phonograph record in American English and a gramophone record in British English, see analogue disc record.


In computer science, a record can be any of at least two different things.

The most common meaning is simply "an item in a database". There is a wide variety of such "records", but the most common type (the one relational databases support) is an instance of the other kind of record.

The other meaning of "record" is "an aggregation of several items of possibly different types", with the implication that there are many records containing the same types of items. C calls these "structs"; object-oriented languages often keep their records hidden inside "objects", or "class instances"; languages in the ML family have their tuples. COBOL was the first programming language to support records directly; Algol got it from COBOL, and Pascal got it, more or less indirectly, from Algol.


A record is also an extreme value, e.g. in sports, weather, economics, etc.

Favored neither go/gods.html">gods nor heroes, This the Sahri's fairest flower.html">flower. Handsome hero, Kaukomieli, Pulled a thousand oars to fragments, Tried to win the fair Kyllikki. Fairest daughter of the Northland, "Why dost linger here, thou weak one, Why come wooing at my fireside, Have no time to waste.html">waste upon thee, Rather would I turn the pestle Rather sit beside my mother.html">mother Never shall I heed thy wooing, Sooner have a slender husband Wish to have him fine of figure, Wish to have him tall and stately, Never waste thy time in wooing Time had gone but little distance, When upon a merry evening, In the glen beyond the meadow, Came too soon the maid Kyllikki, Quickly followed Lemminkainen, Fleetest racer of the Northland, Where the maidens meet for dancing, On the settle seats the maiden, And adjusts the brichen cross-bar, With a rush, and roar, and rattle, Speaks these words to those that listen: Must ye give the information, To my distant home and kindred. Ye shall badly fare as maidens; Sing them under spear and broadsword, Never ye will see their faces, Never will they tread these uplands, Never will they drive these highways." Sad the weeping flower of Sahri! "Give, O give me back my freedom.html">freedom, Let this maiden wander homeward, To my father who is grieving, Let me go or I will curse thee! Wilt not let me wander homeward, I have seven stalwart brothers, Seven sons of mother's sister, Hunt the hare upon the heather; Thus I'll gain my wished-for freedom." Would not grant the maiden's wishes, Spake again the waiting virgin, .

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