New York Note: Underground Field Recording

​The train is howling like a banshee in a tomb of broken tile and greasy metallic beams. It sounds like dirty socks and garbage water slicked over with a slurry of clonking plastic beverage bottles. Thick puddle slopping against the dusty shores of this underground metallic canal. Hear the scurry of a small, felted animal. Hear the shirr, the stacks of clanging bars, and the shake of iron coins in a cotton pocket. The slide of metal on metal like an industrial deli meat slicer. A full body vibration that moves the water molecules in your blood around. Making your eyeballs bob in their juice. The tinking fried wire sound of a flutter-out fluorescent. Wheeze and wind purr whirring in time with the velocity of the steel stallion. Stand clear of the closing doors and become deafened by the blown-out intercom system. Sound like an ice pick to the skull. Sound like being born in reverse, like the snowbound atom bomb avalanche of the tin can train hurtling in a corrugated underground tunnel. Sound of subway train, take everybody home.