Richard and Valerie are the neighbours who have been referred to. They are the nicest and kindest people anyone could wish to meet. Some would be put off by their unshakeable Christian beliefs and their concerns for all of society's less fortunate. Their gentle and philanthropic nature is genuine though as demonstrated by the number of unpaid volunteering roles they undertake.

Their once blissful lives changed for the worse a number of years ago when we know who's clapped-out, backfiring Astra spluttered to a standstill on the road outside next door's address. What emerged from the rattling shed heightened their anxiety. "It wasn't so much that he was stood there in broad delight as bold as brass puffing on the longest spliff we had ever seen," Richard once opined to me, "but the fact he was wearing a Duran Duran T-shirt that really sounded the alarm".

Valerie expanded on that initial encounter: "everyone can recall a minimum of one track each produced by bands from that new romantic genre. Even amongst all the ghastly rubbish released by the Human League, Kajagoogoo, Spandau Ballet, Adam and the Ants and many more besides there were occasional tracks one could listen to without becoming immediately depressed. They stood alone though by publishing nothing whatsoever of musical merit".

Their fears were soon confirmed and persist to this day. Their eardrums have been subjected to hours of Duran Duran played at full blast every day. Intermittently they hear heavy rock which they formerly hated with it comprising of people shouting who knows what amongst an awful din. Nevertheless, Richard says those brief non-Duran Duran interludes have become as pleasurable to them as Bach and Tchaikovsky are to listeners of Classic FM.