[
Five years later...]
“It was a nice little dream, wasn’t it?” In the year following Eric Quillington's tragic end, Greg Oldson dropped out from the spotlight entirely. This was to be expected, of course; it had been widely accepted by the public that there was only one genuinely talented individual in Infinite. With him gone, what was left for the survivors to accomplish? This was a question that, at first, was answered with nothing more than deafening silence. But slowly, steadily, rumors began trickling into the world about where Oldson had kept himself cooped up; a recording studio. Most people, however, expected this to be related to Infinite's unfinished fifth album,
Light in Motion. It was an album that, in the wake of Quillington's death, had steadily risen to become one of the most anticipated in recent memory. And if anyone was worthy of polishing the deceased singer's final music to a state worthy of public consumption, it would be the man he had shared a fruitful, though conflict-ridden, musical partnership. And yet, when Oldson's self-imposed exile from the world was finally over, he didn't reemerge with closure to the past, but a new, surprising leap into the future. His debut solo album,
'When the clock starts ticking…', a collection of stripped-down, bare-bones acoustic melodies, was the most radical departure one could possibly make from the experimental, daring works of Infinite's long-passed glory days. In a soft, fragile voice at times evocative of Quillington's falsetto, Oldson sang not about his fallen bandmate, but the exile he had forced himself through in the last year. It was an album focused on themes of separation and isolation, not death. The music was often cold and distant as a result, but it was obvious to anyone who listened close enough that a heart, however wounded, was still beating underneath the chilled exterior. Greg Oldson had separated himself, but not moved on, from his dark past. Because of this, when he resumed touring later that year, no Infinite songs were played during his sets, much to the dismay of some fans.
This type of expectation, to rehash the familiar hits of the 'good old days', would come to haunt Oldson for the next few years. It wasn't just the Infinite fans; critics around the world began using the former drummer as a whipping post.
"Oldson, some would say insultingly, ignores his past, and in doing so largely forgets the wonders that Quillington was able to conjure up on a whim," says Rolling Stone, a magazine that had once dismissed Infinite as yet another cheap Radiohead knock-off. But even those that had once acclaimed Infinite found Oldson's emotionally-distant debut to be somewhat lacking. Away from his British homeland, however, Oldson managed to find surprising success. Several of his songs began featuring heavily on American radio-stations, and his club tour of the USA consisted primarily of sell-out venues. The peek of this unexpected 'Oldsonmania' was in the form of a petition to the Grammy's for the singer to be nominated in the category of 'Best New Artist'.
"That, right there, proved to me that I had accomplished what I'd set out to do," Oldson later remarked,
"There were people out there who listened to 'When the clocks start ticking' as if it were a genuine debut. I've never been a household name over in the States, so the kids were able to listen without all the baggage that comes from me being this sort of ex-Beatle figure. They listened with fresh ears, and so they judged the album on it's own merits."This stateside success was a primary influence on the development of Oldson's second album. Although he was initially proud of the leap forward it represented, he had come to perceive the acoustic-flavored melodies as
"one-note and monotonous". For his next album, he therefore sought a more varied and eclectic assortment of sounds. While themes of isolation from his debut carried over, Oldson looked to Infinite's past as a primary source of inspiration. Haunting, nightmarish instrumentals and the schizophrenic, frantic blending of genres that had been the band's specialty was revisited on
Pretty Speeches, and the British press and fan-base responded with ecstacy at this return to familiar territory. But it was the final track on the album that received the majority of the attention. Lead by nothing more than a militaristic drum-beat and a simple, trickling piano melody, it features various soundbites and quotes spoken by Quillington throughout his short career cut together to create an accompanying rhythm.
"If this little sketch of an acoustic song can connect with an audience of such diverse ages, cultures, and ethnicities… well, that’s all a former court jester can really hope for…" came an echo of Quillington from what felt like a lifetime ago, finally delivering the closure that Oldson had so often been criticized for neglecting.
With his stateside support still going surprisingly strong, and the disenfranchised UK fanbase finally satisfied with the various tributes to Eric Quillington found on
Pretty Speeches, the prospect of Oldson's third album is being met with a level of anticipation not seen since the days of an Infinite release. But, while his second LP was released just over a year after
'When the clock starts ticking..', in order to keep the interest of America from fading, Oldson's third solo album is taking a much longer time to be released, due to the singer's interest in honing it to perfection. But, Greg Oldson has already revealed that his next collection of songs will be a massive departure from his already-varied solo career;
"The first album was, looking back, an attempt to run away from the tragedy that had gone on less than a year previously. The second album was it catching up to me; you can't run forever, y'know? But I've laid my grief to rest. It's over. Infinite is nostalgia, beautiful nostalgia, but it will forever be the past. The dream's over, but I'm still alive. This next album will be my way towards the future.""People often say I don't deserve to be the 'fourth member' of Infinite. Do you think they're right..?"While the world anxiously waited to see what Greg Oldson's first move back into the musical world would be, Amelia Florentine was glanced upon with an obligatory, but bored, patience. It made sense, though. Oldson had been a part of Infinite since it's inception; Amelia joined them just as their world began to go up in smoke. She was seen, retroactively, as a useless component. Eric Quillington had intended her to be his replacement, but the band instead split ways after his death. Due to her lack of appearances on any Infinite albums, some fans even refused to acknowledge her place as a former member of the band. But none of this negativity seemed to affect her in the slightest. Less than a week after Quillington passed away, Amelia Florentine dove into work for a debut solo album, to distract herself from the tragedy that had just occurred.
Faux Euphoria, released just over a year later, was intended to be a lighthearted distraction from the circumstances revolving around Infinite's end. It was uplifting, electronic pop-music, a striking contrast from albums like
Insomnia and
Dancing about Architecture. Regardless of it's intended effect, it was seen as a mockery by both critics and fans.
"While Oldson ignores the memory of his fallen collaborator, Amelia Florentine uses this solemn time for music as an excuse to throw a dance party," said a biting review from an NME staff writer, before sarcastically adding,
"Eric Quillington would be so proud". Pitchfork took the sarcasm to new levels; instead of publishing a written review, they merely posted a gif of Eric Quillington's tearful breakdown at Total Annihilation 5. The public considered the 'review' to be less disrespectful than
Faux Euphoria. This intense wave of criticism even extended to her former bandmates; during one of her live shows, she was pummeled by an assortment of food from Greg Oldson and Matt Roberts.
"I made that bitch an omelette," said Roberts during one of his rare interviews,
"Bitches love omlettes."Following such negative responses from what seemed to be all corners of the globe, Amelia Florentine dropped out of the spotlight for three years. This period of time did little to improve her ego, as she was not missed. On the four-year-anniversary of Eric Quillington's death, she quietly released a four-song EP on her personal website, free of charge. Amid all the tributes and memorial concerts that went along with such an occasion, the untitled EP was scarcely noticed. But slowly, steadily, the critics began to acknowledge it. The EP was primarily keyboard-led, and was a demonstration of the skills that initially led Eric Quillington to give her a place in his hallowed band. But this wasn't an effort on her behalf to show off, or to explain her motives behind that loathed solo album.
Blank Slate, as the EP was eventually nicknamed by fans, was exactly that; a return to a time before expectations and criticisms. This time would be, as it turned out, childhood. The lyrics brought back images of nursery rhymes, and was sung in an innocent, wistful voice. It was met with a much more positive reaction than
Faux Euphoria, although an collection of fart sounds would have, as well. In response to this small-scale success, Amelia Florentine has announced that this EP will be the first of five, and that the series will document all of life's major steps, from adolescence to old age.
"I'm creating a new life for myself with these collections of songs," she said,
"Free from past mistakes and misery."“I retired from music the day that Eric Quillington retired from the planet.” Out of all those that have since emerged from the ashes of Infinite, it was Matt Roberts who no doubt had the most difficult time getting his personal life back on track. Much like his former bandmate Greg Oldson, he spent the immediate year after Eric’s death in exile. No interviews were granted, and the bassist quickly fell out of touch with those once close to him. Like Greg, Matt had fallen off the face of the Earth. Unlike Greg, this period didn’t end with a triumphant return to the spotlight, but in a botched suicide attempt. Fourteen months after Eric's death, the former bassist was admitted into the hospital under intensive care, during which his wrists were sewn back up. In response to this dramatic turn of events, Greg Oldson quickly cancelled all remaining dates on his tour, and flew back to Britain.
"Half a lifetime ago, Matt Roberts stepped down from a tour with Reckoner so that he could visit me in the hospital after my car accident," said Greg,
"It seems only fair that I repay the favor".Over the next few months, while Matt Roberts recovered from both his physical and psychological scars, he arranged a music festival with Greg Oldson. It was the former drummer's idea; he saw it as the best way to distract Matt from his emotional torment. QuixoticMusic, as the festival was to be called, was initially a small scale, one-time event. Various of Eric Quillington's musical heroes, be they friend or mentor, performed a set. The night culminated with a special appearance from Greg and Matt, who played three Infinite songs in an acoustic setting (Faust, End and Begin, Lamenting Rinascita), and closed the set with a mocking, tongue-in-cheek song melody of
Faux Euphoria. The response to this concert from fans was overwhelmingly positive, encouraging Greg and Matt to turn QuixoticMusic into an annual event. The venues, along with the lists of performers, slowly got larger and larger; the most recent occurred as a two-night concert at Wembley Stadium. Today, it is seen as the closest anyone can get to experiencing the magic that was once an Infinite concert. Matt and Greg, together as brothers in arms. It gives Roberts a drive and reason to keep living.
These days, apart from the annual appearance at QuixoticMusic, his life is spent in quiet solitude. He has expressed an interest in Eastern Philosophy and meditation, and says that they,
"help keep the boredom at bay". As a result, Indian classical music has found its way into his stereo, to the extent that it's all Roberts listens to. Or, at least, most of what he listens to. Matt Roberts owns one of the sole copies of
Light in Motion, and the album's songs can be heard chiming out his window on both Eric Quillington's birthday and the anniversary of his death. In Matt's own words;
"We might get around to finishing that album someday. I think it'd be nice if Eric's voice echoed around the world, just one more time."__
[OOC: Writing this out put me in a very melancholy mood. It's the last time I'll be writing about characters I've been developing for two years, so I suppose that's understandable, haha. Well... I won't say last. I've left the door open for an Infinite reunion; Light in Motion could still be released, there could be an Oldson/Florentine/Roberts album, etc. But, I dunno.. I'm somewhat proud of this ending, so I might just leave it at that. Thank you, everyone, so much for taking the time to read what I've written over the timespan that I've been here. Your comments, insights, and advice have been invaluable, and I'm grateful for every comment I've ever received. I still plan on popping in from time to time, to read what you guys have been cooking up. Keep up the amazing work, everyone!)
Edited by user 12 April 2012 07:40:15(UTC)
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