In 1992, sex-biz entrepreneur Dennis Sobin

went to prison. Nearly two decades later,

he’s brandishing a guitar and preaching the

power of music and art to rehabilitate

the nation’s incarcerated masses.

BY DAVID PEISNER PHOTOGRAPHS BY STACEY CRAMP

N THE DIM LIGHT OF A COLD, RAINY DECEMBER AFTERNOON,

the Washington, D.C. Central Detention Facility stands as a dull colossus at the

edge of the city’s grimy southeast corridor. Situated on a campus of similarly

weathered municipal structures, the hulking flesh-tone edifice’s exterior has

been worn dark gray in splotches under its boxy windows, a visual testament

to a troubled history that has included rampant overcrowding, health depart-

ment citations for roach and rat infestation, and an occasional lack of running

water since it opened in 1976. The building is bunkered on one side by a 30-

foot wall topped with razor wire and watched over by a massive guard tower.

70 MAY 2009 / SPIN.COM GETS STAINS OU T FAST