A while ago, I bought a partscaster from a guy that turned out to have a Tom Anderson neck on it – very fancy. For months I had it in the shop. I was waiting for it to speak to me. Then it did. It said, "Dwighty, you devilishly handsome son of a bitch, I want to be part of the world's brownest Stratocaster". And so it began.

As I type, a custom body is being fashioned by a local craftsman, three pickups wound to my sonic specifications by Damian at Sound Laboratories are waiting, a leather pickguard sits patiently, antiqued gold hardware makes its way down from upstate, and wooden knobs are being flown in from what's left of the United Kingdom. Even the sound will be brown. Especially the sound. Stay tuned...