A Beautiful Cacophony

out in the country today, the sounds of barking, the conversational meowing of the cat, the wind, the rain comprise the audio environment of my immediate setting so different from the honking, the conversational clingclang of the crowd, the acceleration of delivery trucks and the screeching of the subway, all the citified noises that transmitted well into my younger self, everyday exposure to the wondrous sonorous rumblings of the underground, the sounds of a subway station, first off, are different depending on the type of station, whether a hub station, a station where all trains stop or a station where only locals stop because if the latter, there is that variation between an express train hurtling by, the steady sound increasing as it approaches and subsequently decreasing as it continues on and the complex harmonies of a local train, the noise coming in as a rush and then the brakes, oh my god the brakes, increasing decibel levels and hitting frequencies undisturbed by the express hurtling by, there is some complexity with the express of course, underneath the steady roar one can detect the rhythm of the wheels frictioning across metal rails, a syncopated clanging, but the local has that and more, the noise jolt of the stop, frequencies piling on as people brace their momentum, and again another jolt when wheels engage, a shorter sound, optimistically percussive, the mechanics of the opening then closing doors, and if there’s a train coming or going at the same time on the track on the other side of the platform, the stereophonic sounds play with each other, rhythms clangclash, one feels almost weightless from the beautiful cacophony, bodies feel airborne, on rails we are not rooted to the ground though underground, and when between times, between train arrivals and departures, there is a relative quiet and suspense, relative I say because there is always a hum and always deep vibrations and a weird dripping, something is always dripping down in the subway, but no matter, there is the promise of greater noise to come, there is always the promise

Michael L Sevy is a writer and composer from Vermont. His work has been published in 3:AM Magazine, minor literature[s], Burning House Press and RIC Journal. He was the leader of punk bands Cold Dogs in the Courtyard and Bonus Marchers. You can find him on twitter at @MichaelSevy and bsky at @mlsevy.bsky.social.