Eureka! I've done it! I have found the antidote to all the lying and half-truths.

All the evasions and spin, the feuding, the hassle and boo that are the basic ingredients of any half-decent party political conference.

In a week or so's time, in case you had forgotten, the New Labour circus comes to town. Roll up, roll up for the latest political sensations. Hear the hottest leaks. See the wildest posturing and the wondrously-choreographed performances.

One way or another, we are all going to be swept up in the mayhem of conference time.

So what about the antidote? Ah yes, the antidote.

As the hordes of politicians, their minders, wannabes and party workers head south for their annual jamboree, a modest, tranquil little festival will open its doors for five days.

It is called the Festival of Healing Sounds, celebrating the therapeutic power of music. The first international festival of its kind in this country, it is part of a growing movement using all the arts as a tool for healing, calming and comforting.

There was a time when this sort of activity was thought to be a bit freakish, when those taking part were assumed to be the beard, vest and sandal brigade. But suddenly it has become respectable!

It is now established thinking that the arts do provide a spiritual dimension to healing. Sounds, music, poetry, art and sculpture can positively help relieve stress, can lift the spirit, can calm the mind.

It was only a couple of months ago that four pieces of sculpture were unveiled at the Royal Sussex County Hospital as part of the Brighton Health Care NHS Trust's Healing Art project.

This new festival is run by a delightfully persuasive fellow called Mark Eynon, an experienced arts administrator who has directed both the Henley and Covent Garden arts festivals. After a successful pilot run in 1998, he has created this mainstream event with the support of Brighton and Hove Council, South East Arts and the Arts Council.

Frankly, I could not conceive a more wholesome antidote to the braying of arrogant politicians than a quiet hour listening to horns, gongs and ancient singing bowls from Tibet, or an ensemble of masterplayers of tabla, flute and other classical Indian instruments. What bliss to listen to the Medici String Quartet performing a new Nigel Osborne composition, Medicinal Songs and Dances.

While I stray a little into the land of fantasy, just imagine, for instance, Tony Blair and Gordon Brown, battered by the petrol crisis, sitting in on a healing performance by the didgeridoo player Shining Bear and giving each other a big hug?

Can you see Mo Mowlam and Peter Mandelson wandering off together, hand in hand, after experiencing a candlelit collection of lullabies? And could John Prescott finally come to terms with his troublesome past by using shamanic sounds to achieve his personal ecstacy?

I joke, but then, there are limits to every antidote.