The Cost of Noise

Patch's rehearsal space is situated in the back of the Monroe house. It is nestled in a garage turned storage area, not connected to the main house. Electricity flows in and out, but that's it. There is no heat. It is a space.

The first intent of Louie buying a house some two and a half years ago was to have a creative space where a band lived, breathed, and created together. Even before we moved in, item #1 was to have the back space all set up and ready to go as a practice area. It was big enough to house five guys and all their equipment. That summer (2007) and the proceeding fall we were in that room constantly, practicing for a handful of shows. November 2007 we started losing gusto and oomph. Dave left the band, the rest of us were kind of sick of how things were going. We had some drum auditions, but they proved to be lacking. WE proved to be lacking.

The last official Citizens Banned show was December 12, 2007. I was both lead singer and drummer. It was a fizzling moment, an epilogue to the end of CB. It was also when the practice space suffered in activity and upkeep.

It became a place of random storage. If someone didn't want to have something in the house it was placed in the back room. Creativity does not flow amongst clutter. No one went back into the room, save for Adri, who sometimes held impromptu practice sessions with Nikki Schultz's band. It became a pit of limbo, sometimes inviting us in for music jamming (and there were some projects happening back there, including a Smiths cover band, a birthday party show with everyone from Citizens Banned). Even recently, with The Lizard People pet project, it was still a mess. At this point, people were starting to move out of the house, using it as a prep point to keep piles and piles of shit until the big move. Lizard People held its practice sessions in the living room of the Monroe House, which for both the house and the neighbors was not ideal. The entire time we lamented about not being able to use the back room.

I got really fed up about it. I vowed that once everyone moved out and the new roommates moved in, I would turn that space into an even better practice area than what it was in the Citizens Banned days. It would be fully decorated, have a great PA system (CB's PA system was crap, nobody could hear vocals except for me since I put my voice into headphones in addition to the muffled speakers), refrigerator, television, a writing space, a nice storage area for cables and spare instruments, etc. This week we finally got the space cleaned out of all "storage" related material, and I set about making a fully workable music space.

Everything has been great so far . . . except the neighbors . . .

The price of having a free space to perform music, a preferred place untouched by anyone else where you can come and go as you please, is to have to compromise with neighbors on noise issues. Patch is loud. Louder than Citizens Banned. Everytime I've plugged an amp in or tuned the drums, the front door was pounded on by my neighbor yelling to "shut the music off".

One piece of back space construction: make peace with the neighbors.

So, after I got off work tonight, I ventured next door to my neighbor's front yard. The gate is hard to open, I had a little trouble getting the latch undone. On the other side, I shut the rusty gate, closed 'er down tight. I went up to the front door and knocked. Immediately a large dog named Bear started howling and barking furiously. Wasn't out of the ordinary, since he basically barks all of the goddamn time outside. He's part of the normal ambience.

Nobody came to the door. I knocked again. Strangely, the dog didn't bark on the other side. I was about to leave the yard, hoping the neighbor wouldn't call the cops on me the next night when drums would be wailed on at 8:00pm, when Bear came running along the side of the house into the front yard barking angrily. I froze. I saw it and immediately panicked. Do I bolt over the fence, risking my testicles in certain smashing, run for the hard to open gate, or stay where I am? I stayed put.

Bear started to bark in the other direction, looking for passing walkers. He turned, unsatisfied, and saw me standing on the front doorstep. I gulped. He ran at me, barking furiously. My voice started up in a rising scream. I turned into the doorway, and he grabbed my right leg in his jaws on the back of my upper thigh. He then proceeded to pull back. He took with him a chunk of my pants (ruined) and some skin. I didn't know I was bleeding quite yet. It just hurt like a motherfucker.

I turned to the neighbors shouting "BEAR!! STOP!!!" Bear ran away quickly, I turned, hiding my exposed underwear and most likely my nearly eaten man fruits.

Being the forgiving type, I left them without any ounce of the word "lawsuit". We also settled on noise being done at 9:00pm every night. I almost opted to say "Well, 10:00pm now that your dog destroyed my pants and gave me possible infection of God knows what!" But beggars can't be choosers.

I got the karma I deserved for making noise unannounced to the world around me, the way I see it. We're all square. But that dog, if it ever comes near me again, will have the police on him. Two little kids reside in the house neighboring on the other side of my own. I'm not fucking around next time, for their sake.

Mr. Bungle -- "Sweet Charity"