When Jim Reeves had a huge hit 40 years ago with I Hear The Sound Of Distant Drums, it was supposed to convey a pleasant noise.

But the other day on Brighton beach as I was attempting the first sunbathe of summer, it wasn't like that at all.

The drums were not distant, starting without warning about two feet from where I was sitting.

Knowing the propensity of drummers to carry on for several hours, if not days, in the mistaken belief they are creating music, I packed my bags and left.

Now summer has suddenly burst open in Sussex, if we are not actually outdoors, we have at least opened our windows so noise becomes much more noticeable.

Neighbours with large sound systems, people who possess parrots and workers who leave barking, yelping pooches trapped in small flats all day are now a nuisance.

Go down to the beach in Brighton and you will hear music, if not from the pier, then from any passing coupe. It's always pop and always loud.

I have never heard anyone playing Pavarotti at full volume on a ghetto blaster and it would be a picture to see the face of the average pop fan if the great tenor momentarily drowned out his own cacophony.

Stand still in the countryside and almost anywhere you go, you will hear noise. Last year I asked readers in this column if they knew of any silent spots in Sussex. Either they want to keep these treasured places to themselves or there aren't any.

Certainly I know of none.

Before the foot-and-mouth epidemic, I took myself off into some downland valleys for solitude and found the low buzz of civilisation.

All suffered from a faint roar of traffic, while one echoed to the noise of an impromptu party by travellers.

No wonder noise is one of the biggest single complaints dealt with by council environmental officers.

I find the most irritating of all sounds emanates from small planes endlessly circling the built-up area near airports like Shoreham.

The pleasure of one pilot can cause misery for thousands of people trying to enjoy themselves in their gardens below.

There are easy ways of reducing noise.

Why, for instance, do car doors have to be slammed when a small detail of design could have them closing like house doors?

Does a strimmer really have to make all that racket and isn't it often easier to complete the job with a pair of shears?

A little thought for others can prevent mobile phones going off in theatres, car horns parping late at night and roadworks starting early in the morning.

Any of the political parties seeking to form the Government after June 7 could gain grateful votes from thousands of electors by promising to make it easier for authorities such as councils to reduce noise quickly in the future.

But for the next two weeks they will be too busy touring their constituencies blaring out messages through megaphones and loudspeakers.

Of course there are mellifluous sounds, a pleasure to most people in most places.

Naturally you cannot expect city centres, or even busy beaches, to be oases of peace.

But it's the inability to escape from noise at all in this crowded section of a crowded county that I do occasionally find irksome.

Now and again I wish for the title of another elderly pop song. This time it's by Simon and Garfunkel, and it's The Sound of Silence.