Fly Melon

My roommate and I are embroiled in a disagreement over noise pollution with our down stairs neighbors.  These bright-eyed and marginally tone-deaf youngsters are students at the New School and are, as they succinctly and matter-of-factly put it to me, “in a band.”  Because that settles it, yes?  You’re strumming multiple string instruments amped up to maximum volume and shouting off-key nonsensical lyrics in patterns that you seem to think are harmonic, and this would, your tone implies, be totally unacceptable if not for the fact that you are…IN A BAND.  My room mate and I form part of that ambitious minority of city-dwellers who aim to do some intellectual work after business hours, and we form part of that larger minority (in Brooklyn) that goes to bed at midnight and rises early.  We’re not senior citizens or fogies, I swear, and we do understand that it’s New York, but, but….we can’t sleep, and we have to attend early morning meetings!

Pardon me for spewing vitriol across the screen, but we’re at a dead end here.  The leader of the band has agreed to look into the potential solution of installing insulation on the ceilings of his apartment, but he warns that they are students and not particularly well off.  Meanwhile, our admirably conscientious landlord has let him know that it is perfectly fine, by New York law, to play music at any volume until 10 p.m.  We’re f’d. 

Can anyone think of some crafty (legal) tactics for making a downstairs neighbor’s life unpleasant?