Art versus Art

Apparently, part of my new noise problem, as told to me with an air of 'whats wrong with you' last night when I went next door at 23.45 and suggested that it was a tad unreasonable to be doof doofing at that time and that they might like to show some consideration and turn down the racket, is that 'the kids are training'.
Mystery solved. Young musicians with amps and double bass guitars burning with a bright desire to be superstars practicing late into the night have turned the house next door into their semi-regular studio. I suspect they've been booted out of their own homes, guitars in hand, and have been offered a creative asylum to nurture their talents and so now they're my problem. Neat. And so in future days, when during interviews they talk about this stage of their career, I'll have a part in their tale as the nameless nutty neighbour who *laugh, laugh* was always knocking on the door and complaining. No-one will realise that the poor sod of a neighbour in question was also trying to get in some 'training' and be creative.

Anyway, the Arts smackdown in on. Youthful, Self-Centered Musicians versus Crusty Old Writer. They've got the numbers and the bass. I write a mean email.