AND A PSYCHEDELIC YEEHAW to you all. Country and Western Acid-Rock is well up for next big thing. Or so Tokai obviously hope, judging by the fact that they've installed their C&W strap-button stringbender in a Paisley Tele copy. Not even the most tasteless Rhinestone-covered stack-heeled Nashville cat would dare to don a fluorescent pink Paisley geetar. I'm sure. And despite the present hordes of Yankee twangmerchants, I'm also sure that piling in loads of imitation pedal steel licks to your best fuzzed solo would result in the rest of your band turning on the heels of their white Chelsea boots and storming out of the rehearsal garage.

But never mind the finish (conversation piece or coronary arrest inducer though it may be), what's the idea of this here three-bender device?

Basically it's a sort of complicated wang bar, worked by a system of pulleys, springs and wires running from the top strap button to the bridge. You pull up on the button, by the action of shrugging your left shoulder or conversely pushing down on the neck of the guitar, and a lever behind the bridge moves backwards, pulling the top three strings a semitone up. When you stop pulling up on the strap button, springs bring it back into tune again. Simple as that.

It was first devised and built into a guitar years ago by a couple of geezers called Parsons and White, pukka Country types. They actually didn't go quite as far as bending the top three strings - theirs was merely a 'B' bender. But the principle was the same.

Albert Lee: "When I first got the B bender I used it everywhere, all over the place, but you learn not to do that alter a while. It makes your shoulder ache after a lot of playing, though."

The practice, in practice, is a little different. The three top strings bend up with a good hard shrug, but it has to be a serious effort. Not for the weak of shoulder, by any means.

And if you've got one of those slippery nylon straps it'll skid across your brawny Rambo-esque physique to such a ridiculous extent that you have to pull four times as hard and run the risk of rupturing yourself explosively on stage. It may be a fine stage gimmick for your band 'The Flaming Puke Brothers' when all your backbone emerges with a loud ripping noise from the top of your head but it'll leave you a little too liquid to make the most of your subsequent success.

The tuning, too, leaves a little to be desired after you've used the device more than a couple of times. There's none of this flash rubbish like locking nuts, and the slots where the strings pass through the back of the bridge have been hacksawed out somewhat inaccurately, so it should be no surprise that the strings stick here, there and everywhere leaving you high and dry.

But never mind that minor problem, what the hell can you do with it? The answer is, of course, Country & Western riffs a-go-go. It's ideal for those chords where you start the top couple of strings a semitone flat and slide up, and with a little practice and maybe a volume knob twist or two you can get so authentic, downhome and upcountry you could be in severe danger of growing spurs and a stetson.

Mind you, if you play chords (like, for example the classic open D shape) on the top three strings alone and bend up, the effect is interesting if nothing else. One problem with this is that the bend isn't exactly a semitone so things get a little tricky on the tuning front. But if you're quick enough nobody'll notice you steaming enthusiastically past the right note and clashing horribly with the rest of the band.

The devilish gadget won't bend down, just up. And subtle vibrato is a bit beyond it, too, unless you're a dab hand with it or you've got palsy of the left shoulderblade.

In a lot of ways, it's limited — a wang bar would make a lot more sense for most uses, except those Country chords of course. If you want the true, realistic, Waylon 'n' Willie sound it's probably a worthwhile accessory. But on a Paisley finished guitar? Well, dang that doggone crittur. Or words to that effect.

One more quibble - if you snap the top E string, as I did twice without doing anything too untoward, not only does the guitar immediately find itself retuned to the key of X major, but the bender becomes completely useless. A little dangerous on stage? Maybe.

Alan Holdsworth: "The thing that lets Fender down is their pickups. Gibson ones ore much better. And I prefer a wider, flatter neck as well..."

If this is really what you need, and you feel your Country cred depends on it, why not? On the other hand, at approaching half a grand maybe you could do worse than practice left hand finger exercises or take a serious look at some wang bars.

Next, the 55H - a guitar that'll please those connoisseurs of the six-string who hanker for odd hybrids of the Gibson and Fender genres.

It's not a million miles - in fact not more than a couple of millimetres - from the beloved Whatsitocaster design. You know the one; Jimi Hendrix, Hank Marvin, trebly back pickup, wang bar, three pickups, Mark Knopfler, blah blah blah. Right.

The crucial differences that make this more than just a very good replica are threefold.

One is the rear pickup - a humbucker. Not a bad humbucker, as they go, with a pleasantly throaty but not overdistorted raunch giving way to a smooth, warbly Jazz'n'Blues sound when you take it down a little.

Unfortunately, it's just a humbucker, and that's all you get. No phase reverse, no coil split, no tapped windings, just the basic unadulterated noise. Which is pleasant enough, but it would be much nicer to at least have the option of the clear, toppy classic back pickup sound if you wanted it. Ah well.

The second thing is the fingerboard, which is the reason most people would buy it. Look at the guitar and it's a Strat copy. Pick it up and play it, mind you, and it's a Gibson. Whoopee! cry all those people who really like Les Pauls but can't stand the unchanging roar of two great stonking humbuckers or the loss of street cred involved in being seen wearing a guitar associated with Thin Lizzy, Led Zeppelin and hundreds of boring American AOR bands.

A very nice neck it is, too; flatfish, with reasonable sized frets ideal for those long, slow Clapton bends and made of nice rosewood like real guitars used to have.

The third difference is the obvious and obligatory matt black wang bar with a matching locknut. It's modelled again on the Fender rather than the Kahler type, so it refuses to bend in an upperly direction but the guitar holds tune tolerably well and the fine tuners make it easy to correct any minor discrepancies.

So what good is all this to your average plectrum-user? Well, it's a guitar for finicky bastards. If you're utterly convinced that the only six-string in the entire world that will suit you is a Strattish thing with a locking tremolo, a humbucker fitted as a rear pick up and a Gibson neck, it'd be ideal. However, for the rest of us more adaptable type it may be easier to get a Strat and get used to the thinner neck. Or get a Gibson and learn to live with the fact that your U2 fan mates won't talk to you anymore.

If you know what you want, though, and this is it, you won't go too far wrong with this guitar. Construction, sound and feel are excellent, but at this price the market for it may be a little exclusive.

TOKAI 3-bender guitar: £428.77 55H six-string £465.72