My next door neighbor was at it again tonight, throwing what I gathered was a small party, based on the foot traffic in the hall. When I have a small party, one of the goals is conversation. Given how plainly that I could hear their music playing, I don’t think that conversing would have been possible. I don’t mind a bit of bass, but this was so loud that the heat registers in my ceiling were vibrating sympathetically, acting as speakers. It was ridiculous. I went on until midnight, when it, thankfully stopped.
I waited until just now, 1am, to play a little music myself. Although people have e-mailed me some excellent suggestions for revenge music, I found that a song by my friend Will McCutcheon was just perfect. I disconnected the two main speakers from my computer, leaving only my one-cubic-foot subwoofer connected, and turned both the bass and the volume as high as it would go. The result was not so much audio as a physical movement, nearly something that I could pound nails with. I hauled that puppy up, pushed it against the wall, and played a few minutes of Mekagojira for them. I hope they got the message.
I’m only disappointed that they didn’t come to the door. I envisioned the dialogue as something along these lines:
Neighbor: Could you please turn down that music?
Waldo: Oh, is it bothering you?
Neighbor: Yes, it’s really loud.
Waldo: Hm. Oh, sure, and you’re trying to sleep?
Neighbor: That’s right.
Waldo: You find that loud music late at night makes it hard to sleep?
Neighbor: Uh…yes.
Waldo: That must be very frustrating for you.
Neighbor: Yes.
Waldo: I’d hate to inconvenience you. Yes, of course, I will turn the music down, and I will make sure that this never happens again. My most sincere apologies.
Of course, that didn’t happen. It never happens.