Tell me your "neighbour playing shit music all night" horror stories.

And then this fucking piece of shit moved in above me and played Alan Parsons all night. One night, about 3am, I went to the bottom of the stairs and hurled a rock up at his door. Problem solved.

..same thing a few years later, except instead of Alan Parsons, it was shitty 80's B-movies .. like Revenge of the Nerds -or not even that good .. I always wanted to kick his door in and beat him with a stick - but I never did...

Then there was the late night gong session at my present abode. The drummer I live with has an amazing array of devices and I am ashamed to admit that even at 4 in the morning, some crazed idiot was still thrashing the thing intermittently as I tried to cover my head with the pillows. It took frenzied hammering on the walls from our poor neighbours to finally silence the mysterious gong-player who to this day has never admitted to his/her heinous crime.

In fact, the other night I was up the road at a mate's house for an impromptu late night drinking extension from the pub. At 3 in the morning a middle-aged man in pyjamas appeared in the flat, walked silently into the front room, turned the blaring John Fahey down and left without uttering a word. It was the no-doubt long-suffering neighbour who had apparently snapped and let himself in.

These days, my neighbor practices Bach and Mozart on a wobbly-sounding piano late at night. He's no good, but it's nonetheless kind of charming.

Of course, years ago there was an old girlfriend's neighbor who would come home from a drunken bender at 4 or 5 a.m., put on Depeche Mode as loud as it would possibly go, and then pass out behind his locked door. That was no fun.

Let's go back to j.lu's story. I'm trying to imagine the Russian diplomat who was being revolutionary and edgy in his youth in 1986 with a bootleg copy of Theatre of Pain...

I generally just retaliated by playing Arab on Radar whenever she was in the room with me, trying to check her e-mail or somesuch.

The only time I ever ever EVER got noise complaints was in my Portland apartment, because apparently my twunt of a downstairs neighbor could hear the music I was playing at a semi-low, reasonable volume, and she'd bang on the ceiling (my floor) with a broomstick. I heard her music often enough though...

It wasn't nearly as bad, though, as the one year I lived in the dorms at Hampshire, and my hallmates -- among their many other crimes -- consistently, every day, all the time, played Bob Marley and/or Phish and/or the Grateful Dead so loud that even with my door closed I had to shout to be heard by people in my room.

"Say It Ain't So"

over and over

the drum kit was above my bed.

At the Santa Ana house (this was in 1987 or so) there was a high school party of some sort across the street whose only soundtrack was an extended mix of Madonna's "La Isla Bonita" REALLY GODDAMN LOUD, and played constantly for several hours before the cops showed up.

After I moved from there, I moved into an apartment building (also in Santa Ana). For a couple of months, there was an Indian family living next door who listened to Bollywood disco pop 24 hours a day on a tinny AM transistor radio with the volume turned WAY up so it was completely distorted. Nowadays I would have probably liked it, but back during my depresso years it drove me up the wall. The only salvation was the wonderful smells coming out of their kitchen.

When I first moved away from home, there was a guy renting the room directly above mine and our rooms were in the old part of the house and as such sound travelled quite well. I only spoke to him once or twice I think, but late at night I'd be in bed and I'd hear him up there playing his guitar and singing - and he was really quite good, so it was nice really. I never minded the cds he played either - one I even ended up having to run out and buy for myself, which subsequently became a very well loved purchase. I probably should have gotten to know him better.

the former occupant in the apartment downstairs, though ... used to listen to Limp Biscuit CONSTANTLY and at all hours ... esp. "break stuff" ... so i took fred durst up on his "break stuff" offer one day, and one night i dropped a shitload of my textbooks on the floor ... maybe i did break stuff downstairs, 'cause he stopped playing Limp Bizkit so loud after 9 pm, and he moved out a month later

At this same place, the guys in the apartment one story above and one building over had a predilection for playing loud bass (poorly, I might add) along with "Can't Find My Way Home" or Jane's Addiction, but you only had to suffer this if you were in my bathroom or bedroom.

The place I live at now in Queens, the upstairs neighbors had what seemed to be a bowling alley directly above my bedroom, but since they've moved out everything's been quiet.

Fuck neighbours. I've got speakers the size of industrial freezers and if anybody gives me ANY shit at all, I wait until 4:30 AM and crank it up to full volume for .005 seconds, repeating at irregular intervals - not long enough for anyone to identify the sound source but enough to cause an explosion

Silence folowed...

old next-door neighbors arriving home from the clubs at 3am: "winds of change" by the scorpions on repeat and non-stop celine dion.

Your appalling ex-flatmate is V/VM and I claim my $5.

I've found that most people that do this, too, have no musical background...anyone that actually plays/understands music (like myself) I've found to have good taste in music, and plays it at a volume where it can be appreciated.

how else do i get revenge ?

LEGAL DISCLAIMER: Don't really do it.