Radiolab - The Septendecennial Sing-Along

Episode Date: April 16, 2021

Every 17 years, a deafening sex orchestra hits the East Coast -- billions and billions of cicadas crawl out of the ground, sing their hearts out, then mate and die. In this short, Jad and Robert talk to a man who gets inside that noise to dissect its meaning and musical components. While most of us hear a wall of white noise, squeaks, and squawks....David Rothenberg hears a symphony. He's trained his ear to listen for the music of animals, and he's always looking for chances to join in, with everything from lonely birds to giant whales to swarming cicadas. In this podcast, David explains his urge to connect and sing along, and helps break down the mysterious life cycle and mating rituals of the periodical cicadas into something we can all relate to. Support Radiolab by becoming a member today at Radiolab.org/donate.       David Rothenberg making music with the cicadas. Courtesy of David Rothenberg/Bug Music A visual breakdown of the cicada mating calls: Courtesy of John Cooley and David Marshall at UConn. For more on cicada mating calls, take a look at this paper from Cooley and Marshall. A close-up of cicadas getting down: Courtesy of David Rothenberg/Bug Music Enjoy a free download of our favorite track from David's CD Bug Music -- here's the description from the liner notes: Katydid Prehistory: Named in honor of Archaboilus musicus, the 165 million year old prehistoric katydid, whose fossil remains reveal an ability to sing distinct pitches. Katydid Prehistory

Wait, you're listening to radio lab from WNYC. Hey, Chad here. So this spring, many of us, some of us are starting to emerge from a year of being stuck at home or apart from our friends and family. And we are not alone. We humans that is because there is something else emerging in the coming weeks from the ground to sing and dance and make babies and try not to get eaten. And that's something is cicadas.

There is another brood about to awaken after 17 years of slumber and about to swarm many places across the country. So in their honor, I thought we might replay this old piece of ours, which we made last time there was a big cicada awakening around here. It was this from 2013. And it's pretty fun. Very, very Robert Krollwich. I'll just say that. And here it is. And here we go. Hey, I'm Chad I'm Ron. I'm Robert Krollwich. This is Radio Lab the podcast and today

what's so interesting about the cicada sounds is when you just hear it for the first time, you just hear white noise, just hear, shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh That's David Rothenberg, composer and professor and writer and what he's going to do is he's going to take that huge wall of insect sound soon to be upon us soon to be upon us and and get really into it really started dissect it. But what he really loves to do really is he likes to play music with animals. He he goes around and finds individual animals, or groups of animals, to do it with. And if you don't mind, I'd like to just introduce you to a few of his strange escapades.

One of the first times he tried this was with a, well, that was a white-crested laughing thrush. Oh, right, question laughing thrush. Because, you know, before I met the white-crested laughing thrush, you're able to bring that up. Because if you ask an ordinary person like myself to say, white-crested laughing thrush, it's hard. It should be much more well-known because the white-crested laughing thrush

is one of the best. I mean, the white-crested laughing thrush. Yeah, that's right. Washington has them, Bronx Zoo has them. They thrive very well in zoos. But what they do is they sing duets, the males and females together. Shhh.

Shhh. Shhh. So that's animals singing with animals, but here's what he did. He went to the National Aviary, which is in Pittsburgh. First I stepped into the big tropical aviary where you wander and the birds are flying freely. It's a big warm kind of moist space.

He got there before the Avery opened like 6am. And there were when he walked into the caves, there were dozens of different kinds of birds flying around. And I was walking with my clarinet, playing up to the trees. Why is he doing this? Well, he just wanted to see what... A-A- by the way. And he wanted to see what would happen. And as it turns out, nothing happened.

The bird's just more or less ignored him. By then I was kind of kind of lost interest, like nobody's paying attention to this. It's a bad idea. And then all of a sudden... Oh, hello. The laughing thrush was interested. That's the thrush. One little guy, brown feathers dark beak. And at that moment... Anyone would say, hmm, they're like doing calm response. This is interesting. Something's happening here.

This bird and this clarinetist are doing something together. So, so as you're playing, what's going on in your mind at this point? I was just imagining I was sitting down with a musician who maybe couldn't talk to, spoke another language besides English. And I couldn't talk to this musician but I could make music together with him. Okay so that was his encounter with the thrush. Let me take you on another little adventure. Just before we get to our big thing. This is a different kind of do this, you're paying attention. You asked me for permission? I am. No, no, you can't.

Well, I'm not going to ask you that, I'm just doing it. After a variety of bird duets, in which I'm sure he frustrated many a thrush, he then did a duet with an entirely different animal. What the, it will humpback whales. The best thing about that story is nobody knew they sang until the 1960s. So you can try. Don't whales spend most of their time except for the tops of them underwater? So where would you be?

Good point. I was broadcasting my clarinet to an underwater speaker. Listening with headphones to what's coming out of an underwater microphone. And you hear this duet from down there live clarinet and whale. This is so bizarre. What does the whale make of this? I don't speak whale. The thing about humpback whales is, unlike most animals,

they change their songs from year to year. They're interested in new sounds. So all of the humpback whales in any one ocean are singing one song, and then they change it all together. No one knows why. Why do they want to change their song if they all want to sound the same? Well when you sang your song with the whale did the whale react like the thrush? I think it's different but I would say the whale

seemed to change what he was doing. Now it can be a little hard to hear exactly what David's talking about. It took me a few listens to pick out the distinguishing moment but here's what the whale was doing when David showed up. It was doing this thing where it would go up and then down and up and then down. Over and over. And here's what it started doing a few minutes after he'd been playing the clarinet. The whale kind of extends the note. Whales tend to go, and clarinet tend to go, ooo, they play a steady tone.

And so the whale was trying to play a more steady note. Maybe. I don't know. You can hear that, just a little bit of an extended line. It's, it's, it's, it's. I mean, it's awesome. No, I love listening to this. But I mean, I don't, it just sounds like the whale is still doing whale. Well, David says that when he played the recording to some of the, to whale scientists, they all are shocked.

All. Every scientist I played that too was did not believe that what I played them was actually alive recording. They thought I'd done something to it, which I didn't. I mean, they'd never heard a whale make a sound like that. I'm assuming. Which implies that the whale was reacting to his clarinet?

Well, just maybe the whale was just saying, shut up! Shut up up there! Well, however you want to resolve it, Just maybe the way I was just saying, shut up! Shut up up there! However you want to resolve it, like we shouldn't move on to the real purpose of our gathering here this afternoon or whatever time you're listening to this. 2 a.m. Which is that he then turned to this sound right here.

The plague. Getting, of course, it's just a bunch of cicadas, but when we come back from break, we will dig into that sound and find out that it is much more than at least I ever thought it could be. Hey, this is Becca. I'm calling from Dallas, Texas to let you know that Radio Lab is supported in part by the Alfred P Sloan Foundation, enhancing public understanding of science and technology in the Alfred P. Sloan Foundation, enhancing public understanding of science and technology in the modern world.

More information about Sloan at www.Sloan.org. Science reporting on Radio Lab is supported in part by Science Sandbox, a Simon's Foundation initiative dedicated to engaging everyone with the process of science. And when you and I hear it, I mean, it just sounds like an enormous block of monotonous noise. Yes, sir. Just screech, you know, an elaborate screech. Annoying.

But David says, actually, if you know what's going on in here, if you learn to dissect it, wow. Pretty soon you can pick out up to nine separate sounds, made by the three related species of cicada that are there at the same time. Can you can you walk us through the nine different sounds? Well at least some of them. By the way that was our producer Lynn Levy. Okay we have three basic species that come out whenever there's an emergence they're all there. So I didn't you know realize that this was when you're walking through the woods and you hear this enormous white noise which are actually hearing are three different kinds of cicadas, three

different species, singing three very different songs that are all mixed together so you can't tell them apart. And then each one of those songs, each of those three has three parts, which is how you get to the number nine. In case here are the three species, this is number one. one, magicicator Casin-i, makes the white noise sound. Shhh. Shhh. Shhh. Shhh.

Shhh. And they swell together, they synchronize. So they'll all go. Shhh. Shhh. Shhh. Shhh. Shhh.

Shhh. And then they fly around a bit. Do that now. Jump up, jump up from your seat and you get back in and you do it again. There you go. Okay, so that's species number one. Now here is species number two. Magicicator septine decula is making like...

It's kind of irregular. So that's the bebop guy. Kind of yeah and there's fewer of those than they're quieter so less is known about them. Can I hear that one again? So we got the white noise one, the bebop one now here's number three. Magicica septine desim, the most popular known sound, and that's going the Pharaoh sound. Pharaoh. Wow.

And the thing is, when you actually hear millions of them all you hear is BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE This is what we hear, but what would the cicada hear in all this? Ah, well, this is the whole story. Well, see, the thing about cicadas is that the cicadas who sing here are the males, just the guys, and they sing for, it's a mating song, really, you know, there are lots of songs you sing, but this is one of those kind. And the idea being... The females hear all this sound and they find the males. Like the grand Mess of music like a disco or it's called a lec by biologist which pretty much means disco anyway And then you were guy looking for a date you might not join with lots of other guys

But these animals joined together for what purpose? So the females can find them, but if you've got like a billion cicadas crowded into a disco then how do you how does a single male and a single female? Notice each other. They don't have to they just bump into each other then it's on no 17 years ago John Cooley and David Marshall discovered things were more complicated than that They discovered the females make a sound after the male finishes his sound. So say you're one of these males. Going F. F. F.

And the female has to make a wing flick. This tiny little flick, exactly one third of a second after the male stops. What do you think? So it's like, F. F. D.

And nobody imagined such a thing was going on They didn't imagine insects were doing anything this complicated. Well for one thing It sounds like that would be a male to female bit of business one to one When you listen to all these animals you don't think they ever have a one of them They're like so many of them millions of males are making the Pharaoh sound, but when you're close to one You know the female here's, but when you're close to one, you know, the female hears pharaoh. If there's one close enough, she makes the wing flick and the male knows to approach

her a little bit and he goes on with a second sound. It's called by John Cooley, Court 2. Court 2 is like... Oh, pharaoh, pharaoh, pharaoh oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, That's to that again. So, here's your hello is. I'm getting closer is. Now we're kissing, etc. etc. is. So, now you know, when the cicadas come and you hear this massive roar, what you're really hearing is an orchestra of sex. This is just think of all these little animals getting ready to do what they were born to do, what they've been waiting 17 long years in the ground to do.

And all the while, it's the songs that matter. They're like following these little rules, simple rules that together, it shows how very simple organisms can create things of great complexity and beauty. Each individual doesn't have to know that much about the whole. And still, interesting things happen, which gives you a different view of human life. You're one little part in this giant thing. You don't have to really know what's happening, but you're doing your little bit for the whole of creation

or evolution or life or music. You do your own little thing and you're not sure where it leads. But for the individual cicada, for Tommy cicada, Betty cicada, it's all pretty simple. They have their sex, they lay eggs on twigs of trees, the eggs hatch, and then tiny little larvae cicadas will fall to the ground, and then they'll burrow into the warm earth and attach themselves to roots of trees. And then start sucking the fluid from tree roots, and they will do this for years and years and years. It's just slowly growing. And then for some reason that nobody can quite fathom at the exact same

moment, it's body time. There are different breads of them, so different years you can go somewhere in the country and maybe there's some coming out. And why is it that the one that's about to come out here in the Northeast? Why does that happen only every 17 years? Why 17? The honest answer is we really don't know. We do have some evidence of how they keep track of the years, which is that the cicada

monitors the temperature. We don't know how, but that's what they pay attention to. So in the ground, they're not just eating tree juice. They're also got a little thermometer. Somehow they're paying it. They have a little counting thermometer that count the number of years than they know when to come out. A few years ago in my parents' house, I did see one in the wrong year. Every year, a few of them wake up. Where's the party? Oh really, you have Rip Van Winkle one? Yeah, they don't always count correctly. You know?

That must be a lonely experience. Yeah, the lonely cicada looking for. It's kind, the wrong year, the wrong place. Can they go back down and go back to the... I don't think so, no. They've changed. They come from their larval stage and the wings that come out, they can't crawl back and lose the wings.

Did it sing that Lone's a cave? Oh yeah, it was singing. To no one. To no one. To me. to no one to me. And you can kind of imagine David picking up his clarinet and joining in Thanks to John Cooley and to David Marshall. And now, Chad wants to say something. What do I want to say about Lin Levy's favorite song? Oh, and if you go to yes, and if you go to radiolab.org, you can download a song from David Rothenberg's album,

chosen by our producer Lin Levy. It is her favorite song. You can download it for free. Also, David Rothenberg has a new book out called Bug Music. And if you happen to be on the East Coast, we have, well, you can do this from any coast you like, but we have a map where you can track where these little critters are popping up.

Which they're doing right now. Oh, yeah. Just barely. In Georgia and in the Carolinas. Not in Brooklyn yet, but soon. I'll be frying them up, making some Tim. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, because the little guy will come up to you and go,

Fattie, got that, Fattie, got go, F-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f- I'm going to be a little bit more careful.