Sounds of the Subway - Erhu Player at Park Street - Walk With Me and Listen!

I'm still keeping my ears open for interesting sounds to record and share with you all. Subway platforms and tunnels are perfect for this, as there's no wind to batter the microphone, and they're full of all kinds of great noises and echoes of noises, both industrial and human.

One day last week it was raining, and the subway cars were packed to bursting with commuters who, like me, might have otherwise walked.

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It was worth it, though. Not only did I stay dry. When I got to the Red Line platform beneath Park Street, I heard the strains of traditional Chinese music. An elderly man on the central platform was playing a single-stringed bowed instrument, which I believe is an Erhu.

As I had a few minutes before the next train arrived, it seemed a good opportunity to switch on my phone's microphone and record the scene. The melody may be rather repetitive (at one point the performer riffs playfully on twinkle, twinkle little star...) but I just love the way it weaves into the sounds of the passing trains, the announcements, and the shuffle, bustle, and conversation of the platform.

Since much of the overheard conversation is in foreign languages, I feel, listening to this, that I could be anywhere in the world. (But probably China.)

Even after I'm packed into the train car, at the 5:00 mark, you can still hear the music plaintively warbling in the distant background. Even after the doors close, a hint of it sneaks in, like smoke.

And then we're underway.

At 6:10 you hear someone talking about cheez-its. They're discussing a new diet, I believe. Thirteen seconds later, however, at 6:23, when someone utters the single world "sardines," they are not talking about food at all, but are referring to the manner in which we are packed into the cars. You can hear the doors struggling to close for a minute or so at the Downtown Crossing station, as people work out just how tightly they're willing to cram themselves in. Several dozen couldn't fit.

I kept the microphone on until South Station, so there's the sounds of walkers and escalators and further snatches of conversation as we leave the Red Line, ending with the usual police-state announcement to "remain vigilant at all times" as I ascend to the commuter rail area.

If you're just here for the music you might have clicked away by then. Personally, though, I find something both fascinating and soothing in listening to all these people and machines. And even though we left the music behind a couple miles back, I find it still seems to play in the background, like an audible after-image - as if it's been woven into the fabric of the ambient noise.