The urban claustrophobia of New York City offers its little escapes in quaint parks that screen the illusion of not being surrounded by miles of concrete. Sit in a traffic jam in the Lincoln tunnel once and you'll experience New York in a manner that feels as though two years of your life were knocked off simply by being underground breathing pure engine exhaust. This is where I first heard 3:33's In The Middle of Infinity. With passenger busses flanking the white tour van and a mother of a diesel trucker directly in front of me, it was only stale air with the intermittent sting of fumes, flashing break lights, and the heavy rumble of 3:33 on the car stereo.
In The Middle of Infinity thrives in dehumanizing environments. Take it on the subway, away from all traces of day light, and you'll feel as though it was made from a room just beyond the tile of the platform or down a secret corridor that only requires you to brave the dark tunnel where a train might await. It's a bleak glimpse into our dystopian future should a nuclear fall out happen that makes the surface unliveable. The hum of generators is in this record. The transmissions to remaining reachable satellites is here. For now, In The Middle of Infinity remains science fiction, but take it to the Lincoln Tunnel during rush hour and the chill of an underground future is within reach.
3:33's In The Middle of Infinity is available digitally for $7 or as a CD mini-LP for $10 via Parallel Thought/Alpha Pup.
