What’s that sound? It’s acoustic guitar like we’ve never heard it before. It’s things done to six strings that will boggle the ears and eyes. It’s a throaty but gentle blues croon that speaks of backwoods, beaches and the badlands of, ah, Surrey. It’s t*u*n*e*s, the likes of which have become a word-of-myspace cult across the Cornwall surf scene and landed prestigious support slots with Jack Johnson’s cult buddy Donavon Frankenreiter.