Perversely, if you choose to go out to a club, bar, outdoor concert…to intentionally hear loud music and not have to wear headphones …do you find the situation WORSE because you're near assholes who can't shut the fuck up?
This two pronged attack on the ears came to mind when I was sorting through odd audio, and found a recording I made of a noisy obnoxious neighbor's crying toddler…and then an old cassette of a 1994 Bobby Cole gig that included "Crying Game." Both reminded me of how difficult it is to enjoy peace and music. So I pasted them together more as document than pure entertainment.
First 30 seconds? Unfuckingbelievable. A 6'6" pinhead with his hair pulled back in a ponytail, and his simian arrogant bitch-mate from Morocco, spawned a child. They'd leave it in a crib with pounding disco music blasting. Why? "It helps him sleep." By the time this little monster could toddle, it was hyper-nuts.
What did they do when they didn't like his behavior? They LOCKED HIM OUT of the apartment. He'd be in the hall screaming his guts up and they'd blast music. They might open the door and lecture him (like he could even understand them) and if he stopped crying, they might let him back in. If he didn't understand and feel grateful these two ogres were paying attention to him again...if he kept crying...Slam. He stayed out and cried as the music blared. These two weren't afraid the kid might run away. He could barely stand up! Besides, let all the neighbors mind the kid! This went on night after night, month after month. I pounded on the door, tried to reason with them. No way. I'd get the door slammed in my face. I called the cops, said this was child-endangerment, etc. Eventually the unholy three were evicted…for not paying the rent, not for disturbing the peace or endangering their own child. Scum like this are sure to be deadbeat in every way.
You get thirty typical seconds. Yoko would've given you an hour and called it art.
How often have you had to flee your home because of noisy neighbors? If it's only every Saturday fucking night, maybe you can tolerate this forced change in your lifestyle. The worst is you have to go find an artist to "support" by attending a show. Just hope the artist doesn't play at deafening decibels and the cover and the minimum don't break you. Among those I'd go to see was Bobby Cole, if he was in town. Too bad, as Bobby would say with a sour grin and gimlet eyed irony, "the people-pleasing business" meant few who came were really into his music. Too manyh other customers were loud and obnoxious.
You know this from every bootleg audience recording you own. WHY the fuck do people pay good money to NOT listen to the singer? In Bobby's case, some of this came with the territory. If he played in a bar, he was there to encourage a good time; boozing, joking, smoking. I preferred to hear him and not assholes all around…and here the "Crying Game" song is typical of many frustrating hours I have of Bobby being heard through the human stain of snaps, crackles and burps. Wish I could've taken a cleaning cloth and wiped the faces blank of everybody who was adding their dirt to his soundtrack.
Noisy idiots! How's it at home for you? I'm sure you have some reeking home-wreckers similar to the brat you'll be hearing. Some of my runners-up…include the asshole who had to practice drumming (rather than pay for a soundproof room or studio), the moron bitch who let her kids jump rope and run up and down on bare floors overhead, the jerk leaving his precious poochy-woochy to bark its guts up constantly, or... the ruddy-faced goon who lived next door by himself (no surprise) and blasted his radio at sunrise.
I staggered out of bed one morning to catch up to the asshole as he left the house. I mentioned "You have an umbrella because you hear so-and-so the weather guy say it would rain." The asshole just said, "Yeah," and held it up. So I said, "How did I know you heard the weather report? I heard every word on your radio through the wall." "Oh." Next day silence. Next day, full blast news again, for the usual full hour till he left the house, by which time I was wide awake. He snarled, "I need the clock radio on loud in order to stay awake. YOU made me late for work because I turned the radio off and fell back asleep. I can not help your problems." No, I had to wait till he moved out. Because a grown man couldn't get out of bed and into a shower, or drink a fucking cup of coffee. Nah, why care about somebody else? And why not blast a radio to penetrate so much further than the reasonable thickness of a brick wall?
Ambient noise is far from ambient these days. It's pervasive and percussive. People never shut up. Construction goes on day and night. We've come to expect that even a library will not be quiet. Inconsiderate low-class ill-bred monsters aren't content to be headbangers, they live to MAKE SOME NOIZE and don't care if your head is throbbing because of them.
Howling brat allowed to disturb neighbors, babbling idiots not paying attention to a nightclub singer…. THE CRYING GAME
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