Infinite; Live at Field Trip Festival

Classical music is heard over the PA, signifying the imminent arrival of a certain alternative-rock trio. As they step onstage, it’s easy to see that each member of Infinite has their own unique style. Matt Roberts, dressed in a plain black shirt and pants, has a casual air around him, despite currently being viewed by thousands. Greg Oldson has an indie appearance, with his green pants and slightly long blonde hair. Having been seen a brief time ago, it’s startling to see the shift in Eric Quillington. Whereas his performance with MattY was with a clear-minded focus, he now seemed slightly disheveled, with a loopy grin plastered on his face.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, it is your lord and master; Eric Quillington. The Quixotic, the Chosen One, the last son of Krypton,” he says in a drunken slur. It was unclear what exactly was going on inside the enigmatic frontman at this moment, as he stood before the 150,000 in attendance. He had always enjoyed being in Infinite, and tried his hardest to put on a good show. In his teenage years, Quillington had been one of the wild rockers, a man known to perform naked and high on mere impulse. He had since matured, but perhaps the impulse-free side to him still lay dormant, and this was one of the occasions it had been set free. Nobody knew what the frontman’s drunken behavior would mean for the upcoming show.

All the audience knew was this; tonight, he wouldn’t resist the urge to fuck up Infinite’s performance.

Grinning like a Jackal (snippet)/Synthesia

Stepping up to the microphone, Eric decides against introducing the band with words. Instead he sings, a cappella, a line from a new Infinite song;

“Just turn on the bright lights, and no one’s going to say you’re all alone tonight”

After Greg counts his two band-mates in, the first real song of the evening begins. As it is unfinished, the song is very sketchy in structure. A catchy guitar riff, something Infinite have always strayed away from, drives the song. During the two-line choruses, Eric’s voice is distorted to make it seem as though it’s coming through a phonograph; very distant, and with a crackling, difficult-to-make-out, quality.

“Dear sir, please spare a penny for the blind
Take me through the spectrum, as the sounds turn to color
As you can see, my dreams of being a performance freak have failed
Does that still make me special?

And for a minute, the moth thought he was the flame
The muse mistook herself as the masterpiece

Good afternoon, it’s nice to talk to someone for an hour
All my plans for the future were abandoned when I rewrote the past
As you can see, there’s nothing that’s been troubling me
Does that still make me a tortured artist?

And for a minute, I lost myself in the beauty
Unfortunately, I ran out of words to rhyme”


Finding Beauty in Negative Spaces

“I’ve lost the plot,” Eric said, his speaking voice barely recognizable due to the slurs and stutters, “But, whatever, it’s all cool. Here’s, um, our next song. It’s the B-Side to our latest single, called Finding Negative Beauty in Spaces. No, Negative Findings in Beautiful Spaces. FUCK IT, I DON’T KNOW. Enjoy.”

Despite making an ass out of himself while doing anything but playing music, Eric still plays the opening strums to the next song with competence. It’s a simple melody of chords, one that can be accomplished without much technical ability or focus. This is a huge blessing for the guitarist, as he currently lacks the latter. Regaining some confidence in his performance, he attempts to return to the more flamboyant stage antics he is typically capable of while sober. Obviously, disastrous results follow; an attempt at a mid-air spin, something completely out-of-place with the slower-paced feel of the song, ends with Eric landing on his back. After struggling to get up while still playing his guitar, in a scene straight out of Spinal Tap, he finally makes it over to sing the first verse.

Eric’s voice, much like earlier, still possesses much more clarity while in singing form. The Quixotic has always seemed more graceful and confident while performing music, so this isn’t too much of a surprise. An undertone of seduction is evident in his singing, taking influence from various love songs, reinforcing the intended message of this song; a twisted mocking of ‘Love Ballads’.

“You can’t make pretty pictures, you can’t make pretty poems
It doesn’t matter, because you simply view the world differently
Beauty is always in the eye of the beholder
It’s only a matter of time before the loneliness evaporates
After all, you’ll never be alone”

Tinkling notes on the piano begin to be played by Greg Oldson, a musician who seems to be distancing himself from the position of drumming. As there is no percussion, it is left to Eric’s acoustic strumming to carry the rhythm. The song has gone to hell in the instrumental interlude between the verses; there is no actual beat, making each instrument seem out of time.

In a move that is becoming a defining characteristic of Infinite, Eric’s voice has been electronically distorted for the second verse, giving the singing a very inhuman quality. The sarcastically tender tones of earlier have melted away to become more fitting to the lyrics; a frightening recreation of insanity’s embrace.

“You can’t find inspiration, you can’t find a shred of success
It really doesn’t matter, because you simply view the world differently
Beauty is always in the eye of the beholder
If you’re scared of the silence, we’ll be there with comforting words
After all, you’ll never be alone

This is your statement; everything has it’s time
This is our statement; everything has it’s place”

Sleepyhead (Passion Pit cover)

“So, I, um… think this is our final song,” the drunken frontman said, “I mean, we would’ve played longer, but I just… can’t recite the alphabet right now. Wait, maybe I can. Let me try. A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I-“

His rant was cut off by a rapid drum-snare by the increasingly annoyed Greg Oldson, prompting Eric to shut up. Resisting the urge to moon his drummer in front of the mass audience, he unstrapped his guitar, rather than his belt. Stepping down in front of the piano nested at the side of the stage, Eric began playing the opening melody to a stripped-down version of Passion Pit’s Sleepyhead. As the original song was too complex to perform without the little preparation they’d been given, not to mention Quillington’s current state of mind, a simpler arrangement was preferred.

Singing in an almost comical falsetto, Eric delivers one of the most bizarre vocal performances of his career. Drunk enough to have no self-awareness, he changes several words around to fit his drunken sense of humor, to the laughter and cheers of those in attendance;

"And you said, it was like fire around the brim
Burning solid, burning thin, the burning rim
Like stars burning holes right through the dark
Flicking fire like saltwater into my eyes
You were my bitch at the end of this bed
I dragged you back to give me head
Some good head

They couldn’t think of something to say the day you burst
With all their lions and all their might, and all their thirst
They crowd your bedroom like some thoughts wearing thin
Against the walls, against your rules, against your skin
My dick stretches down through the floor and out through the door
Of your eyes, begonia skies, like a sleepyhead
Sleepyhead"

Stepping away from the piano, Eric takes several bows, nearly falling over with each one. Taking matters into his own hands, Greg leaps from his drumset and grabs Quillington before he can embarrass himself any further. Dragging his band-mate by his shirt, he motions for Matt Roberts to follow him. The aggravated mood from the drummer hasn’t been brought-over to the audience. Most who saw the performance were thoroughly entertained by Quillington’s behavior, and were sure to remember this unique live show for a long time to come. Plus, a new Infinite song was always regarded as a good thing by the band's fans.

Still, Infinite wasn’t the sole attraction; the main headliner of the evening was to perform next. A palpable sense of excitement is in the air as the audience gleefully chants out her name;

“Miss Vanity! Miss Vanity! Miss Vanity!”

The opening shots show a cartoon world of black and white, in the specific setting of a city. There is a very Gothic style to the video, particularly with the shadows. As a result, the only visible part on the faces of the people on the street are their eyes. The simplistic artistic way of showing the living beings and most of their surroundings is contrasted with the screens on the side of the buildings; they are brightly lit, and rapidly change color. Each one is showing the word 'FRIENDLY', which seems to be of some importance to the citizens, as they keep looking up at it. A very calm and relaxed attitude is radiating from everyone, and the city seems to be one of peace; people even shake the hands of random strangers as they walk by.

"The boiling of the bloodstream is building up inside of me
Air is so black, the air is so black
It brings me down"

'EUPHORIA' flashes through the screens, with the people in the streets below becoming the visual representation of the mood. In something very similar to any number of musicals, various people break out into dance. A wide variety of styles can be seen, including slow-dances and tangos. Although the mouths on their faces aren't seen smiling, therefore not giving away any tell-tale signs of smiling or laughing, it can still be seen that the citizens are blissfully happy. This feeling is further reinforced by the fact that this part of the video is in slow-motion, giving the impression that the paradise will continue forever.

"The endless possibilities are shot down before they can bloom
Skin is so blue, the skin is so blue
It brings me down"

The happy dances are abruptly cut off as the billboard-screens transition to something new; 'FURY'. After a brief several seconds of the citizens staring at the word, and mentally interpreting what it means, hell breaks loose in the previously peaceful city. Fights begin, and mobs with pitchforks and torches are formed. In a brief second, the same people who were united in celebration have been divided against each other. Ironically, the city is now much more colorful than before, as the orange hues of the fire are the only color that isn't from the screens.

"The windows are shut to blind ourselves of what’s outside
Eyes are so white, the eyes are so white
It brings me down"

As the fighting reaches a fever-pitch, the screens begin to change again.Although the new word isn't shown to the viewer, the citizens stare at the screen in surprise. After titling their heads and blinking in momentary confusion, everyone soon goes inside and begins climbing the stairs. In an eerie continuation from earlier, the citizens are seen jumping from the buildings in slow motion, and all the while the screens with the word 'WORTHLESS' are seen behind their falling bodies.

"The city is so silent now that past rights have been wronged
Water is so red, the water is so red
It brings me down"

Instead of cutting to the studio, as is expected, the video begins with a snippet of a live interview taken from the days before Infinite released their debut album, Blue Nebula. As a result of the gap in years, the band’s appearance is radically different than it is in the modern day. The three have taken an obvious influence from the style of the grunge movement; their clothes are wrinkled and torn, and while their dirty hair hints at the fact that they haven’t showered in days. All in all, fairly typical for the rebellious young rocker. Perhaps Eric Quillington looks back at his twenty-year-old self with regret, as less than a year he wrote the tune ‘Fusion Paranoia’, one that mocks the culture he seemed to be embracing at this point in time.

Lying on the couch with his two band-mates, Eric seems vaguely disinterested with the interview, as if he doesn’t appreciate its significance. This is the first time Infinite has appeared on any sort of television show, even one as admittedly small as this. As the band has only a slight semblance of a fan-base at this point, the only people who would be watching would be close friends and family. The fact that virtually everyone in his family, from his grandmother to step-father, would be watching seems to have no effect on Eric, who looks slightly stoned.

“Alright, so, uhm..” begins the interviewer, who is obviously not prepared for the lethargic mood emitting from the three members of the band, “Your debut single, Styx, has just cracked the Top 100, and is currently hovering around at the position of 97. How does this success feel?”

“Not much of a success, mate.” Eric says, with a strong hint of arrogance in his voice, “Until the day we’re at the top spot, I’m not content. And, y’know what, why shouldn’t I be? Nobody pays attention to second place, so neither will I. Just you wait; about three or four albums in, Infinite will be bigger than Jesus. And I, Eric Johnson, will be the biggest rock-star since John Lennon.”

Properties of Glass

After a brief blank screen, the video jumps to the Infinite of today. Setting up their instruments in a spacious basement, the band seems to have a hint of modesty it lacked six years ago. Aside from the technical equipment used for recording the upcoming performance, there is nothing terribly flashy or remarkable about the location. Watching the trio in front of plain, white walls, anyone who had never seen the band before would be excused for thinking of Infinite as a group not used to playing in the dramatic settings of filled-out arenas and stadiums. It’s an excusable mistake, but inaccurate nonetheless.

As their frontman is the most recognizable and famous member of the band, he is the one that receives the most camera-time. 26-year-old Eric Quillington is like night and day with his younger self; the fire of rebellion in his soul has long since been dosed, replaced by an awkward, yet charismatic, personality. In an unexpected turnabout, his ego has grown ever smaller as his fame increased. Quillington’s way of dealing with the success brought upon Infinite was to retreat further into his own mind, and to separate himself ever further from the young anti-rocker he has grown so embarrassed over once being. While it is difficult to determine which version of him is fake, the arrogant past or eccentric present, it’s inarguable that he has never seemed happier or more content with his life.

A drum solo begins the set, one played with ferocious pounding by none other than Mr. Oldson. After several seconds, Matt’s thundering bass-line can be heard, creating one of the most aggressive rhythm tracks to any of Infinite’s songs. This continues on for several minutes, with the only input from Eric being intentional feedback from his amp. Previously, his style of guitar-playing has been very modest and non-flashy, something in striking contrast to his eccentric and overblown personality. Instead of following in the footsteps of such guitarists as Eddie van Halen or Eric Clapton, Quillington had rejected the guitar-solo, and forged a style of playing that was arguably the most reserved instrument on an Infinite tune. His playing had always been more complimentary of other instruments, with the result of the bass and drums often appearing to be more vital. It all seemed like this was about to change, however, as Quillington had stated in several interviews that it was his goal to become a self-described ‘real guitarist’ on Dancing about Architecture.

It immediately becomes apparent that he has succeeded his goal from the moment he begins picking notes; instead of adding another layer to the atmosphere of the song, it immediately morphs it into a new identity. This, in a way, seems like a self-assured rock anthem more typically associated to bands like Oasis or Aerosmith. However, the true nature of the song becomes apparent from the moment Infinite’s frontman begins to sing. In the intertwining time since Infinite’s last album, Quillington had become one of the biggest rock-stars in the world. This level of success and recognition can bring large amounts of self-assurance and confidence, so it’s somewhat surprising to hear him sing with such a frailty. The words are carried by an almost-whispered falsetto, one that seems like it could break at any given moment. His voice had, in the past, been the most distinctive and driving part to the band’s music, but now seems lost among the instrumentals.

“Words echo through my mind, words spoken through another mouth
Time and time they’ve been heard before, so my variations hold no captivating interest
All I can think of are the endless clichés, so should I speak my thoughts to you all anyways?
Perhaps the truth would be better if hidden beneath bells and whistles”

After several decisive strums of the guitar, the song reaches an abrupt conclusion. ‘Properties of Glass’ is, in many ways, nothing like what was found on Midnight Skies or Insomnia, thus validating the band’s claims that their next album would be nothing like previous work. “I’d say that was an adequate opening, wouldn’t you, Greggy?” Quillington asked the drummer, with a reply in the form of a nod, “Good. Now let’s kick it up a notch.”