It wasn’t until I moved into 46 Whitehall Drive that I realised just how many people were in the habit of dragging sticks down picket fences. The charming little property backed onto a popular alleyway and I was interrupted by the racket on a surprisingly regular basis. The repeated sound of a muted C sharp drove me crazy within the first few days. Before the week was out I’d pried the planks from their railings and replaced them with rosewood bars. The substitute lengths of wood had been crafted to resonate slightly when struck, each emitting the sound of a selected note. I arranged them into a pleasing little melody from the unlikely source of German metal band Rammstein. The musical dividing structure sounded better than I’d expected; it was literally music to my ears. Unfortunately, when played backwards, the tune was absolute rubbish. I had to revert to the repeating C sharp.