X-treme Harmonica Tunes

In the right hands, the harmonica is an amazingly expressive instrument. Throaty and raspy one moment, high-pitched and flutelike the next - for something so simple, it can manage an impressive spectrum of sounds. If you've ever taken one apart, you'll know that it's business end is basically just a set of metal tines of different length, which vibrate at different pitches when air is sucked or blown over them. It's an instrument so simple it can take a lifetime to master. The true virtuoso can wring noises out of this little perforated brick that have to be heard to be believed. And I'm not talking Larry Adler here.

Amazing stuff. But, unfortunately, the instrument itself is pretty tiny, and not very telegenic. When was the last time you saw someone play air-harmonica? Given that a great part of harmonica playing consists of cupping it in your hands for much of the time in order to unleash that wah-wah sound at strategic points in the tune, I wouldn't be surprised if a lot of people just thought it was just a kind of human-beatboxing. Many youngsters might even believe it to be a purely mythical instrument, much like the fabled Eunich Horn of yore.

So - let's make this unassuming yet powerful instrument come alive for the MTV generation. Instead of having all these tines lined up in a row - liberate them. Chop the harp up, blowhole by blowhole. Each note becomes a self-contained, separate one-tine instrument. And while you're at it, add bomb-like fins to them as well. They'll come in handy for the next step.

You know those skydiving cameramen who have their cameras attached to their helmets? Imagine that setup with a directional mike attached. Take a handful of these one-note harmonicas up to 30 thousand feet, drop them strategically, then jump out after them. Of course, each note is colour-coded so you know where to point your directional microphone as you plummet beside these wailing blues-bombs, and you also have the requisite skills to raise and lower your air-resistance and thus flit between the falling notes, using the Doppler effect to bend and twist the notes as your "Terminal Velocity Blues" composition requires.

When the music's over, you pull your ripcord, and waft gently down to the ground. There's no room for improvisation with this tune. The harmonica bombs, however, perforate the landscape with explosive ease. Luckily, you remembered to have a friend draw a huge set of parallel straight lines on the ground. You threw out the harmonibombs at strategic intervals, and the wind conditions were (strangely) nonexistent. Next time a spy satellite passes overhead, it'll record the sheet music version of the main riff of your latest tune.