Night Gallery

We hijacked a marimba from an instruments graveyard and wiped the dust from its wooden teeth. While sneaking away, we were caught in a hailstorm. The ice fell from the sky and plinked and plunked its random melodies, striking the marimba's tuned mouth. Much of our first album was written this way. We still confer with the marimba each time we have a melodic idea. Playing it on him, he either smiles a wide wooden grin, or he won't let the notes ring out at all. We rely on him for quality control, unfortunately, he has terrible taste. The rest as they say is history, written by the winners.