Once upon a time, in the magical kingdom of music, there lived two young friends, Guitar and Synthesizer. Guitar and Synthesizer loved to play together. They went to the park, ate ice cream, and made lots of music together. They were the best of friends.

As they got older, Guitar and Synthesizer began to drift apart. Synthesizer had stopped playing with Guitar, and was hanging out with a lot of Germans in black turtlenecks, going to art galleries and fancy dance clubs. Guitar fell in with a seedier crowd, and though he did his best to maintain the friendship, Synthesizer wanted little to do with Guitar's wicked ways. Guitar convinced Synthesizer to come and play with him and his rocking friends, but Synthesizer never invited Guitar into his world of expensive wine and mirrorballs.

Guitar was sad. While Synthesizer was hanging out with a bunch of cool, avant-garde Europeans, Guitar wasn't getting nearly the acclaim he felt he deserved. Pretentious music critics were declaring Guitar's music "dead," no matter how hard he tried. But one day, Guitar got an idea. He would get two of his indie rocking friends, Jean Phillippe Freu and Patrice Carrie, to beat Synthesizer at his own game-- they would make house music using only the sounds of Guitar!

At first, Jean Phillippe, Patrice, and Guitar had a lot of fun with their musical experiment. But as they continued working, they realized that something was wrong. By its very definition, house music cannot be made with only Guitar's sounds. Guitar knew what he had to do. He called his old friend Synthesizer, and convinced him and his friend, Johnny Palumbo, to help him and his friends with their house music. At last, Guitar and Synthesizer had found a project they could work on together.

But before long, tensions between Guitar and Synthesizer began to surface. Synthesizer became resentful of the repetitive, sonically uninteresting parts Guitar was playing. Synthesizer would burst in on Guitar while he was recording and yell, "I could do that!" Guitar was mad at Synthesizer, as well. Guitar, used to working with real drummers, was angry at Synthesizer for spitting out trite drum machine beats. Synthesizer responded by telling Guitar he was just a gimmick, designed to lure unsuspecting hipper-than-thou indie kids into buying a mediocre house record.

Guitar, Synthesizer, and their three French friends finished their record, and titled it Installation Sonore, French for "gimmicky shit." But things were never the same between them. Synthesizer moved to Germany and was kidnapped by an avant-garde artist, who poured sulfuric acid and pig shit on him, turning him into a "sculpture." Guitar moved to New York City's East Village, hit the bottle pretty hard, and whored himself to pay for his heroin addiction. He's since recovered, and is taking it one day at a time...

As for Phillippe, Patrice, and Johnny, they continued to make "conceptual" house music under their Rinôçérôse moniker. Installation Sonore found an adoring audience among insecure music fans who assumed that any band with that many accents in their name must be brilliant. They're currently planning another record of house music made entirely with baroque instruments.

-Matt LeMay