Before the pandemic put the state on PAUSE, New Yorkers were used to the sounds of everyday life: sporadic whistling from a crossing guard, snippets of a cell phone conversation, bar chatter over speaker-blasting bass.
But since the stay-at-home order went into effect, our ears are being fine-tuned to the intimate habits of our neighbors.
According to Gothamist/WNYC’s analysis of NYC 311 calls from the beginning of March through mid-April, residential noise complaints have gone up by 22 percent compared to the same period last year—from 28,599 calls in 2019 to 35,972 in 2020.
Blaring TVs, loud talking, thumping and banging all fall under different types of residential noise complaints.
“For some reason, they like to make love when they are listening to music—current disco music if I can use that phrase. Very heavy on the beats,” said Anthony Riveccio of his downstairs neighbors in the Bronx. Riveccio has been working from home alone since March and resorted to calling 311 once.
Riveccio’s upstairs neighbors are more regimented. “They don’t walk on the floor; they march on the floor from morning, noon, and night. And come to find out that they are all heavy-footed—if I can use that phrase.”
But while some New Yorkers are sandwiched between the sounds of love and war, others are trying to decide if they are being comforted or driven crazy.
“They were playing Vanessa Carlton’s ‘A Thousand Miles’ on the keyboard, but they kept getting the notes wrong,” said Carson Mlnarik, who’s 24 years old and lives in Bushwick. For Mlnarik, who’s a sucker for an early-aughts pop hit, his level of tolerance is still high.
Sam Borgen lives in Queens and considers himself lucky. “We just heard the same refrain from Hakuna Matata over and over again. We brought it up to our neighbor, and he was like, ‘Oh yeah, well I actually played Pumba on Broadway for ten years.’”
Borgen also said he sometimes hears a clarinetist playing Gershwin’s Rhapsody In Blue from his roof.
During the evening, there is a burst of sound due to the 7 o’clock cheer for essential workers that includes primal screams, guitar licks, and people harmonizing with cookware.
But after that, the city’s silence speaks volumes.
“It’s so eerie. I heard footsteps upstairs for the first time at night when I was trying to sleep because it was so quiet,” said Milda DeVoe. She and her family live in Battery Park City. They’ve been there through the sounds of 9/11 and Occupy Wall Street protesters, and find the lack of outside noise is unsettling.
Devoe said she needs sound to sleep. “I’ve actually started sleeping with a radio on. I have it on low. I am totally unused to sleeping with no noise.”