There's scarcely half an hour of the day or night free from channelling Dragon, The Eagles, RCHP, Jack, U2, The Kooks. We are treated to guitar riffs accompanied by piano chords, two guitars simultaneously in motion - one brother playing lead, one plucking bass - three lads cooking up a musical storm: everyone sharing their knowledge with others, resulting in a rhythmic surf of sound.
Fingers are being strengthened, ears and strings tuned, voices rising and falling in melody and harmony - of course the rest of The Gang are magnetically attracted to little ensembles around the house where muso talent gathers.
Em's MP3 batteries are wearing out as songs are recorded and replayed and reaccompanied; redownloaded, rehashed and relished.
Tabs are explained, chords debated, original music jotted on manuscript as souls connect in a composition of notes and poetry, soaking in the metaphor of summer, the last week of brotherhood as we know it.