we are lucky to live in the top corner of our apartment building. although this means we have a slightly skewed floor plan, the benefits are having windows on two sides instead of just one, and the lack of neighbors. the whole southern side borders a hallway, the eastern and northern side border no one, and only my roommate’s bedroom is directly touching the neighbor’s room (he’s only complained once so far). plus we never hear anyone’s footsteps above us. so for the most part, making noise is not really of any concern to me and i would go so far as to say doesn’t cross my mind at all while i’m kicking out the jams in my room.

then last week i finally figured out the name of that white stripes song i kept hearing on indie 103 — ‘ball and biscuit’. i couldn’t believe that it took a radio station to introduce me to a song i liked this much. where were you with that tip, indie rock blogger world? oh right, i guess i should have just bought the cd like everyone said to 8 months ago. in fact i probably would have if i had heard this sooner, but it’s way too 2003 to buy now; i’d look like some guy who’s buying cd’s the radio station told him to. how tacky.

but back to the point. once i finally pinned down the song, i started listening to it like ten times a day because those solos are crazy and it’s like seven minutes of rock and suddenly i started to wonder. can whoever lives beneath me hear my music? having never pinpointed which resident is our neighbor below, i only picture some helpless timid guy living down there, who normally can’t complain about my impeccable music tastes which range gracefully from mellow indie pop to more aggressive rock with enough hip hop and electronic music mixed in to keep things fresh. then one day he hears this great song coming muffled down through the ceiling. but then he hears it a dozen more times over the weekend, and it doesn’t stop there. and while i keep turning it up louder to squeeze every last drop of squealing rock and roll energy from this great song, this poor guy passive-aggressivly imagines figuring out which car in the garage is mine so he can accidentally scrape the shit out of it with the new filing cabinet he’s unloading when no one’s around. so should i maybe try to temper the rotation on this one?

yeah, sorry about that, guy, but this air guitar isn’t going to play itself, now is it.

[now hearing this: actually, something else. i haven’t downloaded that tune to my imac here yet, so i only play it at home — when i can unapologetically crank it up.]