Interestingly, he didn't actually come outside until the playlist hit Tori Amos. Booming beats he could deal with, but long-sustain slow-decay piano chords that rattle the fillings out of your teeth and make your lungs hurt for 10 seconds at a time were apparently more than he could take.
Once he finally came outside, we arrived at an uneasy accommodation. I suspect it won't last long. But that's okay, I have the Death Stereo, earplugs, no headache, and no neighbor on the other side of me. I can renegotiate at will... if necessary, I might even take it past half volume.