Freelove Fenner - "Workshop". Marty showed up with a guitar he had turned inside-out. Trudy put down her cherry coke. "How did you do that?" she said. She went over and touched the inside-out guitar. "It's inside-out, right?" Marty said yeah. He tightened one of the tuning knobs. "What does it sound like?" Trudy asked. Now Sam had come over. He plinked one of the guitar strings. It made a sound like this: wingggg Marty said that he had found the instructions in an old book, from the library's one-dollar sale. He said he had ordered a modulator on eBay. The inside-out guitar was seafoam green. It looked a little like a guitar and a little like a seahorse and a little like the facade of a hardware shop. Marty plugged it in to an amp. He asked Sam for a pick. He flicked on the switch and ran the pick over the guitari's looped strings. The sound was crystalline, bittersweet, medicinal, like an elixir. It wasn't a sound for love-songs or rockers but you could make a sound like that into a tiny little universe, a sequence of oribiting planets, supporting life. You could make a sound like that into a psychedelic mission-statement, a reason to keep looking at leaves through your pair of prismatic glasses. [buy]

Like a string of inhalations, half-breaths, the phrases that come before and then. Gifts, splendours, endlessly unconsummated. [Dishwasher's Peace Signs is out October 15]