Phase 3

The conception that bands never had a pre-planned encore had faded into obscurity long before Infinite had even released their first album, and thus a patient expectation for the band’s return is emulating from the crowd. Just as the wait seemed to be stretching into an irritating length of time, a vamped guitar riff is heard. The stage is left in complete darkness until Eric begins singing in a soft falsetto, at which point the trio is finally made visible again.

The blisteringly hot day had long since shifted into a cool night, allowing for more creative methods of stage-lighting; in a very abstract and minimalist style, only three simple spotlights shown onto the members of Infinite, something as far removed as possible from the dazzling array unleashed during ‘End and Begin’. Those expecting a flamboyant return to the stage in a similar fashion to their exit were also disappointed, as the subdued tones to their most recent album’s closure had been chosen as the soundtrack to their second entrance.

“Supernovas call and guide you home
The cause does not exist, everything is inside your mind
Hell is just a thought and an abstract design
Synapses will collapse, nature will take its course
Dream about my words

Lights scream and guide you to sleep
Think about nothing, sleep to satisfy
Darkness envelops and comforts your eyes
Laugh at the fear, smile to spite white noise
Dream of my words”

The Story of a Misunderstood Man/In Heaven/Instrumental (featuring Ryan Ross Hernandez)

“Alright, well…” Eric began, a tone of almost palpable excitement evident in his voice, despite his best attempts to remain level-headed, “This next performance needs no introduction.”

After a quick smile to the audience, the frontman backs away from the microphone as all lights in the stadium dim. The crowd is still very much abuzz and anxiously awaiting for what is in store for them next in a show that has so far not disappointed at all. The remaining lights go off, and just a single all-too-bright limelight is seen shining near the front of the stage. No one is standing there; just a microphone stand is visible with some empty space shown in front of it. Without any theatrical entrance or any visual spectacular of the like, the figure that was previously standing in the shadows finally steps into the limelight. That male, standing at six foot three, was quickly recognized by the fans at hand. The man was none other than world renowned singer-songwriter/guitarist, Ryan Ross Hernandez. The massive audience at hand showers Ryan in applause, cheers, and the all too familiar screams he receives from female fans. His attire was the usual attire you'd expect to see the singer in; a long-sleeved casual white shirt, with its sleeves raised up to his elbows, showing off his perfectly tattooed forearm of the tattoo sleeve that covered his entire left arm, an over-sized platinum Rolex watch on his wrist. Finishing off his attire was a pair of lean black pants, ones that could passover for casual dress pants. This was very much the look that in previous occasions Hernandez himself has referred to as a, 'sensitive bad boy' look. He has his customary made wooden red-ish Martin D-18 large body dreadnought acoustic guitar, strapped onto his back.

Ryan doesn't waste any time, as a matter of fact he doesn't even look up at the immense packed venue. Even with the warm introduction still being made by the audience at hand, Ryan begins to play a somewhat blues/pop inspired guitar riff. His attention is completely focused on his acoustic guitar. He continues to strum the simple acoustic chords for about twenty five seconds before he leans into the microphone stand and beings to sing. The second he opens his mouth, more cheering is heard from the crowd, the ones in particular that are his fans and are familiar to the song. Now it's obvious that he is performing 'The Story of a Misunderstood Man', the deeply heart-wrenching affair off his acclaimed 'Let a Man Be Lost' album. As if it isn't shocking enough to see him playing at an Infinite concert, he is also playing a song that he has never performed live before. There is no playing around with his vocals on this occasion. His vocals sound as a near perfect reenactment of the studio recording of the song, sounding just a bit deeper at this moment. While he sings, he continues to play the same acoustic strum he began with. At any rate, Hernandez always returns to his defining vocal gesture - the line that slides down like a contented sigh or up like a raised eyebrow, giving his beloved hits their air of easy intimacy, it's tempered by a plaintive, sweet melancholy that carries plenty of emotion and meaning.

“One too many nights were the ones that
Once revolved around you
Recollect all the shattered pieces
Praying this home won't fall through, again
All my friends accused me of losing my mind

But I swore I could handle it

You sing me a song of how beautiful we could one day be
But you go back one day and turn it into a goodbye song
And I lived in your dark twisted games for one day too long
But you promised me every night that the grass would get greener eventually
Wonderin' which gray shade of you I might get on the phone, tonight
Well I stopped calling back and this song is to let you know why”

He takes a quick pause between the first two verses and the chorus, backing off the microphone simultaneously ending the riff he was playing on his acoustic guitar. The audience once again erupts in cheers, ones that even reach a new height once the lights rise up on the rest of the stage, showing the band they came to see tonight, Infinite. Ryan gives his acoustic guitar off to his personal guitar tech that runs onto the stage and takes it while handing him his famously known custom made Fender Stratocaster, better known to his fans as The Black One. Not a second passes from that moment; Greg begins playing drums sending the rest of Infinite and Ryan into the chorus. Both Ryan and Eric sing the chorus together, each of their vocals overlapping one another giving the song a powerful feel to it. By now, there is a sea of arms up and waving along to the powerful serene ballad. Some of the female fans in attendance were even seen singing along with the duo. On the following verse, Ryan again takes helms of the lead vocals on his own, with the band still playing alongside him; the atmosphere feels like a slow burning kiss off over gentle, crying guitar licks by both Eric and Ryan. Hernandez sings with the hurt disappointment of someone who feels as though their optimism and naiveté were taken advantage of, displaying as passionate of a vocal performance as ever. But what makes the song even more interesting is that, while Ryan is singing in first person, it's written from a female point of view. Taking the place of a former lover, and basically pointing out his every flaw in their relationship, only furthers the fact that his a lecherous experienced lothario, he could be intending for whomever may be listening to feel bad for the girl, but his singing slowly and mournfully, with a pedal steel echoing his melancholy, makes it tough to choose a side.

The slow, mournful singing, controlled 4/4 drum beats and bluesy guitar licks, quickly start to build up and become stronger as the song reaches its boiling point.

“You are a philosopher at sorry
And making women blind with your wit and charm
Never impressed by someone who figures you out
All the girls that you've ruined have lifeless eyes
Cause you burned them out

But I stopped your games
Before fire could catch me
So don't look down
I'm shining over your sad, lonely town”

Ryan held onto the final note for at least ten seconds, with the instrumentation behind him coming to an abrupt halt. He opens up his throat so wide that he almost yells at the falling point. Infinite joins again more in a powerful pace. The continuous acoustic guitar is heard all throughout the song, while a bluesy guitar swells underneath, making for a fuzzy experimental blues-pop/rock arrangement when you add the continuous changing pace drums beneath it, which is not unlike a sprawling, crescendoing powder keg from the likes of the Black Crowes or Counting Crows. Ryan backs off the mic stand, playing a emotionally-charged blues lick along with Eric.

A solo begins between Eric and Ryan, with the emotional undertones slowly transitioning into something much more laid-back and casual. While Ryan continues to play in a very cool and collected manner, Eric appears much less professional. Constantly making quick glances to the man on his right, the normally confident Eric Quillington seems to be trying his best not to appear star-struck. After laughing in disbelief under his breath for several seconds, he closes his eyes and focuses on the relaxed solo. This easy-going, but still slightly melancholy, mood doesn’t last for long, however, as it seems as if the two guitarists are moving towards a climatic finish. Just as a release to the musical tension finally seems inevitable, Eric sings a haunting melody taken from the movie ‘Eraserhead’; a chilling form of peace is in his voice, very similar to the type of music Infinite is typically known for.

“In heaven, everything is fine
You’ve got your good things, and you’ve got mine”

Each light in the stadium shift from their darker shades of color into a glorious blue as the performance erupts into a euphoric instrumental. All members are firing off on all cylinders; Matt and Greg deliver a pulsating back-beat as the two guitars harmonize perfectly, two distinct voices blended into one. The uplifting vibe seems to be the dawn after the night, a light at the end of a long tunnel. The instrumental solo continues for several more minutes before a decisive closure is brought on by several chords strummed by Eric. Ryan manages a brief smile and wave to the audience before walking offstage, prompting massive cheers from the audience.

Problems with Pluto

After such an unmistakable high-point of the evening, moving on seemed next to impossible. The show had, for the past several songs, been in a state of perpetual climax. It would all end soon, and so the audience savored one final look at the band before the next song. A final look at Matt and Greg, who had finally proven themselves as vital members of Infinite, and not just lucky passengers along for the ride. And at Eric Quillington, the man whose eccentricities and musical flair had entertained any who would hear throughout the course of three albums and countless performances. For someone who was revered as a genius on a typical day, and hailed with Birdies on the more generous ones, he struck an oddly familiar and accessible note; more of a beloved friend than a world-renowned superstar. But, in the end, such admiration seemed almost silly. After all, it was only a rock concert.

Practically everyone in attendance knew what note the show would end on, but there was still a surge of excitement to be felt as Eric sat down in front of the piano for one last time. Before he started playing, he titled his head towards the audience and waved in a way that was simultaneously meant to say goodbye and convey thanks. A fast-tempo piano melody began to play; the instantly recognizable intro to the song that is perhaps Infinite’s most famous.

A duet between Eric and Greg, the only musical accompaniment to the piano, is sung with a perfect duality in their combined voices, one complimenting the other. This duality existed not only in their voices, but in life as a whole; a larger-than-life personality grounded by two level-headed companions. Although the writer had come to hate the lyrics, he still sings them with a level of passion and energy matched only by the choir of the 90,000 voices possessed by the adoring crowd in front of him.

“It’s easy to pretend the Mayans were right
The universe explodes, and it’s no one’s fault
On and on, we sing this song; on and on, we scream
You say nothing in the end is your choice
Yet you’re the one holding a picket sign”

How ironic it is that this song, with its mocking lyrics of people over-reacting to the simplest things, had become a full-blown rock anthem. Not that it mattered to audience, who’s collection of voices helped turn the delivery of this line into the most moving moment of the evening, matched only by the brief appearance of Supernova. Eric’s falsetto harmonizes perfectly with the undefined chanting of the audience; a note of optimism in the often bleak world of Infinite.

“Look up to the midnight sky; see life as it should be”

Eric swings his second instrument from behind his back and launches into a guitar rendition of the piano melody. Following a quick drum-fill, Greg and Matt jump into this song, instantly shaping the performance into something much more pulsating and rock-driven. The mood is similar in it’s almost riotous feeling to ‘End and Begin’, but it’s different now; it’s a celebration, a joyous one. Continuing the trend that has quickly become a defining characteristic to this show, the audience’s singing overpowers Eric’s;

“It’s difficult to realize effects are our fault
The universe exploding; our choice, not a god’s
On and on, we sing this song; on and on, we scream
There’s a lot of things I’d like to rearrange”

Although Eric has repeatedly strayed away from the path of the ‘guitar-solo’, he indulges himself for a second time in this encore, knowing it would be his last opportunity to do so at Wembley. All three of the members are on the verge of essentially showing off with their improvised solos, but nobody in the stadium is complaining; it is a delight to see the trio break from their restraints. All good things must end, however, and soon the solo draws to a close as fireworks dazzle against the darkness of the night. Amid the distortion and feedback, Eric runs to the tip of the stage and throws his arms up in the air, prompting the audience to sing the final line of the evening without his accompaniment. It was, in a way, no longer Infinite's show; it was Wembley’s.

“Look up to the midnight sky; see life as it should be”

Outro

Leaving the stadium was something of a bitch, especially if you had earned the coveted position of front-row. While the mass audience slowly started pouring out into the streets, the only spoken topic heard between those in attendance was of the past two hours. Each had their own favorite moment; the appearance of Ryan Ross Hernandez, the little nod to the past in the form of ‘Supernova’, or that simple feeling of joy one felt as Eric moved past the section of the stage they were directly in front of. Despite differentiating opinions on which part was the best, it was certainly agreed upon that this was one of the best nights of their lives, and one they would never forget.

The same could be said for Infinite; playing to an adoring audience of that size, and leaving with that love and credibility still very much intact, was something most bands only dream of. Each member of the band had gone their separate ways to celebrate what was, by all measures, a triumphant show. Greg Oldson was quickly spotted at a local night-club, soaking up praise for playing at the most what is arguably the most famous venue in England. Matt Robert’s night was slightly ruined by the fact that he had to stay behind for a brief lecture by the security for jumping into the crowd, but was all the more cheered up when he learned that his brash decisions had caused a body-guard to be fired.

Eric Quillington, perhaps in a manner least expected, choose a low-key way to end the night. His basement was still a makeshift studio, as a way of recording live events for the recently delayed ‘Battle of the Bands 5’. Strapping an acoustic guitar around his shoulders, he prepared to record a song he initially wanted for his solo album. Tonight, however, he realized how futile and childish that would be; Infinite was his life, and he would never leave.

There was a delicacy to his strumming, a certain intimacy. It was another shift in direction; after the technical wonderland of ‘Insomnia’, he had nothing left to prove. He could make a record as simple, or bombastic, as he wished. In a way, there was no way of telling whether or not this would be an indication of how his next collection of songs would sound. But, for once, it didn’t matter; for once, he was content with being completely lost in the music, and not wondering about overall concepts and designs. Closing his eyes, Eric began singing a first take for a song that would eventually be on Infinite’s fourth album;

“Words relay the vice
Create the sunset with burning gasoline
In the silence, in the dead of night
We can begin anew

Words delay the vice
Leave the burdens for the mules
In the silence, in the dead of night
Reality becomes the dream”