Any Rave Fans Out There?
This is likely to be a bit of a rambling Sunday Thoughts because it’s about a few different things that all come together at the end…I hope…but who knows? It’s a Sunday Thoughts piece and, by their very nature – mostly being written on a Sunday morning – they can be a bit free-form. A bit Ornette Coleman, but not as clever and without the musical bit.
Back in the day, when we were much younger and more carefree, Lin and I used to put on free parties. I’ve written about this before, so for regular readers this should come as no surprise. Some of these parties were legendary, some of these parties we can’t really recall, and some of these parties came to the attention of the pre-Criminal Justice Bill boys in blue. I guess at the time we gave the neighbours little thought, but we lived in what could endearingly be called Bedsitland, surrounded by students and folk on the dole, so the nuisance factor was minimal. That said, the parties were loud and often went on for longer than the unfortified human body could reasonably be expected to endure.
Unless you’ve been living underground for the duration, you may have noticed that this summer in Europe has been quite hot. Bastarding Hot, I believe, is the correct meteorological term. It’s been a summer of naked sleeping – fetch the eye bleach and accept my apologies for subjecting you to that mental image so early on a Sunday morning – and having a specially acquired fan on all night to cool our collective body masses. It worked really well and, after a couple of nights of flailing about like some kind of flailing-about beast, you get used to the gentle hum of the fan and, indeed, it becomes quite soothing.
We got one of those Dyson-alike affairs that gently sways from side to side like a drunk on a cross-Channel ferry, and the soothing waft of cool air was most welcome over the summer. The noise wasn’t intrusive at all and gradually became part of the whole going-to-sleep process: lights out, fan on and off to the Land of Nod.
Now, we’ve had a few Indian Summer-like evenings of late, but the general autumnal feel to the weather is most definitely upon us and it’s been far too chilly to have a fan blowing over us during the night. You’ll be pleased to know that PJs have also made a welcome return. Soon it will be time to change the lightweight duvet for the heavier winter-grade duvet and its increased Tog rating. Does anyone actually know what a Tog rating is, or was it something created in the 1980s to entice us Brits into the European fold and encourage us to adopt a more laid-back approach to bed linen? At least it’s not the early 1970s, when you could generate sparks from polyester bed covers if you moved around with any degree of friction or speed. I’m amazed more of us weren’t electrocuted in our sleep or woken to find the nylon sheets had welded themselves to our Nylon pyjamas.
Anyway, I digress…I did warn you.
So, we’re in late September (I can’t write that without thinking of Rod Stewart, Maggie May, and really having to be back at school); it’s cooler, the fan is redundant, and we discovered that we struggled to sleep without its gentle hum. The room was too quiet and, without the comforting background noise we’d become accustomed to, sleep was proving annoyingly elusive.
Never fear, Google to the rescue. I found out that Google is celebrating its 28th birthday this morning – whodathunk it was both so far back and so recent at the same time? It must be another age-related time warp.
Apparently, there are little speakers you can buy that play a continuous, non-repeating selection of different fan noises at different frequencies. Some will also play gentle seaside noises, though think waves lapping against a Caribbean beach rather than seagulls trying to nick your chips on the North Yorkshire coast.
After much research – everything that involves dipping my hand into my pocket requires lots of research to make sure I’m getting the right thing at the right price (i’m from the land where seaguls nick your chips) – I sent for one of these new-fangled, at least to me, contraptions. It arrived overnight from Belgium, though I don’t know why Belgium, and was duly plugged in and placed on the window shelf/ledge/whatever they’re called.
A fan noise was what we were missing, and so a fan noise was duly selected as our preferred hum. The first night it was far too loud, while on the second night we were getting there, but it was still a bit obtrusive. By the third night, after much lying on the bed shouting, “Up a bit…down a bit” (no, no, no, not that), we’d got the volume just so. And you know what? It’s a thing of joy.
I had read during my extensive research (I think it was in New Scientist) that playing bursts of pink noise while sleeping could reduce the likelihood of developing Alzheimer’s. However, apparently the contraption you need for that monitors a specific brainwave pattern and plays carefully timed pulses of noise to coincide with said brainwave pattern.
Our little device doesn’t do anything remotely as clever as that. It just sits on the windowsill (sill, that’s the word) looking slightly like a piece of hospital equipment and plays a reassuring fan hum without the inconvenience of an actual fan blowing cold air over you in late September.
Of course, there’s something mildly ridiculous about someone who spends much of his waking life involved with HiFi buying a speaker whose sole purpose is to reproduce noise. I bang on about lowering the noise floor, eliminating hum and getting the quietest possible background from our systems, and then I go to bed and switch on a little box specifically to put the noise back into the room.
Anyway, dear reader, you will be pleased to know that a deep and full night’s sleep is once again being enjoyed by all. Harmony has been restored, the PJs are back on, the fan is packed away until next year and our little Belgian noise box is doing sterling work.
Now, on a Sunday we have a bit of a routine. Lin is an early riser, while I am most definitely not. When I eventually begin thrashing about in the bed and showing some vague signs of life, Lin usually comes upstairs with a coffee and my computer so I can begin writing this weekly article. It’s a routine we’ve kind of fallen into. Lin hands me the laptop, puts the coffee down on the bedside table and, after the usual good mornings and whatnot, leaves me to tap away at the keyboard while attempting to gather my thoughts into something resembling a coherent whole.
This morning, after handing over the laptop and delivering the coffee, Lin asked, “Did you hear the rave?”
We live in a valley and, in the next valley over, there are regular raves. We used to go to them every once in a while, but now we are old and decrepit and the very idea of heading out at midnight to stand in a field for the next twelve hours sounds less like an exciting adventure and more like an especially cruel endurance test. And as for stimulation to keep awake? These days I get jittery just looking at a bag of coffee.
I’d heard nothing. Not a bleep, not a bass kick, not the faintest distant thud…nada. I’d slept through the whole thing, and it was all down to that little, slightly hospital device-looking box playing its non-repeating fan hum beside the bed.
I love it and heartily recommend one to anyone who suffers from external traffic noise, noisy neighbours or those god-awful young people enjoying themselves while doing little to no harm to anyone else. It doesn’t remove the noise, of course; it simply lays a gentle non-polyester blanket of another kind of noise over the top of it.
Once upon a time, Lin and I were the people putting on parties that were loud enough to attract the attention of the local constabulary. Now, we’ve bought a small electronic device specifically so we don’t have to listen to the spiritual descendants of our younger selves having a party in the next valley.
We used to be the rave. Now we need a soothing fan noise to make sure the rave doesn’t interrupt our sleep.
Getting older is marvellous, isn’t it?
I’m off to wave my fist at clouds. Or I might have a few coffees and see if this rave is still on. What are you up to?
Stu
