STIFFWIFF is a polyphonic hypergiant sweating white-hot light, and it's hovering closer. Its mass is made up of musicians and artists and writers. Its mission: reclaim the Joy. With most musicians and creators these days, there's too much emphasis on shows and portfolios and personal projects and The Scene, not enough collaboration within the muddy trenches of talent. Too much attitude, not enough of that feeling you used to get when you picked up a pen or plugged instrument to amp. That raw-grinned excitement. Where did it go?

Todd Corbett thinks he and his compatriots have found the solution. Called STIFFWIFF, it's a mercurial, quickly swelling force. Don't call it a band, because it's not that. A band's ethos is often sedentary, an insect trapped in the amber of pressed records. STIFFWIFF strives to be harder to pin down. It's an open creative forum to exchange aural ideas, one that welcomes visual artists and writers who are plugged into the appropriate channels. It's a collective project with a transforming roster of players. Itsoon might include you.

One way to build the STIFFWIFF brand of stellar evolution: Gather a bunch of musicians gifted with varying styles in a studio. Arm them with a spectrum of instruments and all hue of drug and vice. Two percussionists sit back to back in the center of the room, forming the nucleus. The remaining musicians are whirring electrons: they move around the instruments as necessary. You put your drinks on a short leash and set up a Japanese garden of microphones and monitors. Now plug in. Set the levels. Like a game of high-octane four-square, ricochet sounds off one another. Telegraph chords and toss polyrhythms. Push insults through those horns. Call across to one another. Ride the tide of syncopated, throbbing energy. Ignore the hip thrusts of the guy soloing next to you. Priorities: exultation, Art, and embracing that Smoke-'em-if-ya-got-'em-'cause-here-comes-Apocalypse sound.

This is structured, evil improvisation that doesn't sound like improvisation at all. Anthems arise from the cloud of keys and strings, bass thunders through blood and bone, battle drums spell out bad omens and brass heralds the arrival of hope. All the while the tape is rolling, acting as the waxed dental floss with which you'll lasso that sound. Now rinse and repeat.

In 2007 Corbett started work on STIFFWIFF to honor his deceased brother Matthew, who was also a musician. He and his friends have created something he hopes his brother would be proud of. Inclusive by nature, Todd insists that STIFFWIFFbeacompletely open collective,without sacrificing the quality of the end result. Further broadening the scope of this artistic endeavor, he as already pulled in painters and illustrators from disparate backgrounds to design the packaging and paraphernalia accompanying the first STIFFWIFF record.

He does insist, however, that if you want be a part of the project you've got contribute "more than just the tip. If you want to impregnate the sound," he asserts, "you've got to bed the hound." One look at Corbett's face makes it plain that his particular Cerberus doesn't tame easily.