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FM 1
n the dimly lit, echo-filled rehearsal studio, Frankfurter and Merlin were tuning up for what they hoped would be the inaugural jam session of their soon-to-be-legendary rock band. Frankfurter, with his trusty four-string bass, looked over at Merlin, who was cradling his brand new seven-string electric guitar like a newborn, complete with a look of bewildered joy that screamed, “I have absolutely no idea what to do with the extra string, but it looks cool!” As they plucked and strummed, the walls vibrated with anticipation, or perhaps from the subway rumbling below. They were ready to rock, or at least, ready to figure out how to tune Merlin’s extravagant new purchase. “Dude, does this thing come with a manual?” Merlin asked, squinting at the extra string as if it held the secret to their future fame. Frankfurter just laughed, “Nah, man, we’re artists. We don’t need instructions!” And with that, they struck their first chord, a sound that was half rock anthem, half cat screech, but all passion. The band was unnamed, their future uncertain, but one thing was clear: this was going to be one heck of a ride.