The Accidental Music of Imperfect Escalators

Roman Mars:
This is 99% Invisible. I’m Roman Mars.

Roman Mars:
This is the first joke I ever really noticed as a design joke.

Mitch Hedberg:
I like an escalator, man. Because an escalator can never break. It can only become stairs.

[LAUGHTER, FOLLOWED BY APPLAUSE]

Roman Mars:
That’s Mitch Hedberg.

Mitch Hedberg:
There would never be an “Escalator temporarily out of order.” sign. Only an “Escalator temporarily stairs. Sorry for the convenience.”

Roman Mars:
Being designed to elegantly deal with the extreme failure case is probably an underappreciated design element. But it really is one of the things that makes an escalator great. Worst case, they’re stairs. See how far you get in a broken elevator.

Sam Greenspan:
“I bet everyone wants escalators. Enjoying that design aspect, too. And we’re getting our cardio!”

Roman Mars:
That’s 99% Invisible’s own Sam Greenspan, walking up an escalator in a Metro station in DC.

Roman Mars:
Ever since the Industrial Revolution, when it became possible for products to be designed just once and then mass-produced, it has been the slight failures and imperfections and the individual wear and tear introduced by human use that transforms a quality mass-produced product into a thing we actually love. Your worn-in blue jeans. Your grandmother’s iron skillet. The initial design determined its quality. But it’s their post-manufacturing imperfections that make them comfortable and make them loveable, that makes them yours. And if you think that a slightly broken escalator can’t be loveable, well maybe you haven’t been paying attention.

Sam Greenspan:
An escalator on a DC Metro platform is like a fine wine. It’s better with age and without any industrial lubricant.

Roman Mars:
Sam lives in Baltimore now. But he lived in DC for a few years. He said that this sound came to embody the excitement he felt from living in a city.

[SOUND OF SQUEAKY ESCALATOR]

Sam Greenspan:
Yeah, I mean I grew up in one of Florida’s most depressing suburbs. It’s just miles and miles of highways and culs-de-sac.

Roman Mars:
Very nice.

Sam Greenspan:
Thank you! So when I moved to DC, I took public transit everywhere, just because I could. The DC metro system — it’s not the best in the world, but it’s pretty good. Although a lot of people do lament the poor condition of the Metro’s escalators. Some are just flat-out broken and then there are some that work but make these crazy noises. Which, you know, annoy a lot of people, but for me, I found that a skronking escalator was like this little trumpeter announcing how awesome it was to live in the city.

Roman Mars:
It turns out that someone else loves this sound too.

Sam Greenspan:
So this is Chris Richards.

Chris Richards:
I’m the pop music critic at “The Washington Post.”

Roman Mars:
Chris was also in a band called “Q and Not U.” He wrote a kind of appreciation of the Metro escalators for the Post.

Chris Richards:
We’re at the Farragut North Metro Station in Washington, DC on the north side of L Street and Connecticut Avenue.

Sam Greenspan:
Chris told me that he had never really noticed the sound that the escalators made, until one day when he was on a bit of free jazz kick.

Chris Richards:
Having my ear trained for those sort of breath on brass kind of sounds, I think maybe turning the corner to come down the escalators one day, I thought, “Oh, there’s a saxophone player playing at the bottom of the metro.” But it wasn’t that at all. It was just the escalators kind of like wonking and screeching away. I don’t know if they were always this loud.

Sam Greenspan:
On the escalator, there’s a plastic element on the side of each step that keeps it from rubbing against the metal siding. A lubricant keeps it all running smoothly. But when it rains or snows, the lubrication wears off.

Chris Richards:
So what you’re hearing when you hear this kind of like moaning, squawks is the steel stairs sort of rubbing up and chaffing against that plastic element when it’s gotten a little too dry. Kind of like a beautiful, serendipitous aftershock of the wear and tear that these escalators are facing. It sounds like music!

Sam Greenspan:
And, like any good music critic, Chris started classifying the different styles of Metro escalator. So here at Farragut North, the escalators might sound like…

Chris Richards:
Whales mating (laughs) or something like that.

Sam Greenspan:
Whereas the escalator at U Street…

Chris Richards:
Kind of sounded like Indian drone music.

Sam Greenspan:
And at Columbia Heights…

Chris Richards:
An aviary of chrome-throated ravens taunting you as you descend into your workday.

Roman Mars:
We understand that we could be over-romanticizing a skronking and squeaking escalator.

Sam Greenspan:
You can talk all day about appreciating the ambient soundscape around you and get really into aestheticized ways of listening — Chris Richards was into this, by the way — but you could also just as easily say, you know, “Hey, this is all noise.”

Chris Richards:
I think it’s all really in the ear of the beholder.

Sam Greenspan:
It is totally understandable that people wouldn’t appreciate a screeching escalator. Chris actually told me that when he called up Metro for his story, their PR people didn’t believe him. They thought he was writing some big expose about escalator failure.

Chris Richards:
Quite the opposite, really. I was trying to say, you know, even though these things are a little bit beat down, this is a wonderful little residual bonus, I guess.

Sam Greenspan:
My point of view is if you’re going to be subjected to some kind of sensory experience, of which you have no control, every single day, then it’s to your benefit. You know, why not try to enjoy something. Because there are enough things in life to be stressed out about.

Chris Richards:
As much as people complain about all the sounds that cities make and all the noises that cities make, I think those noises define it and, you know, really become our environment. Sound can be an irritation or it can be information.

Sam Greenspan:
Chris got me hoping the escalators never get fixed. Except for the ones that just straight up don’t work. The escalator at the Wheaton stop? It is the longest escalator in the Western Hemisphere! It takes three minutes to ride to the top when it’s working!

Roman Mars:
Let’s hope that the Wheaton escalator doesn’t conveniently become stairs anytime soon.

Roman Mars:
99% Invisible was produced this week by our intern Sam Greenspan and me, Roman Mars. It was adapted from an episode of Sam’s podcast “Whisper Cities,” a show about overlooked places and the people who find them. Find out more at whispercities.org. This program is made possible with support from Lunar, making a difference with creativity. It’s a project of KALW 91.7, local public radio in San Francisco, the American Institute of Architects in San Francisco, and the Center for Architecture and Design. 99% Invisible is distributed by PRX, the Public Radio Exchange, making public radio more public. Find out more at prx.org.

To find out more or keep in touch with us, especially if you want to tell us about your favorite sound which you know – which you know for a fact – is somebody else’s noise, go to our website. It’s 99percentinvisible.org.

  1. Irena

    My favorite sound that is noise is the sound that trains would make at night in Cincinnati.

    I lived too far away from the tracks to hear the ‘chug chug chug’ or the actual sounds of the wheels turning, or even the sound of the horns, but for some reason on certain nights the sound of the brakes would travel all the way across the city from the train yards. They made a chorus of long, atmospheric notes, softened by the air, a little melancholy but very restful. The noise was somehow both high pitched and low pitched at the same time. I think this was most common on nights when it had rained during the day, and I would prop my window open to listen and smell the wet earth as I went to sleep.

  2. Katie

    i have a few favorite sounds…some probably more unique than others.

    i love the sound of a basketball going through a net and the sound of sneakers on a shiny basketball court
    i love the sound of cleats on cement
    i love the sound of heavy rain and thunder
    i could listen to a baby babble for hours

  3. Anne Debevoise

    I grew up in Montgomery Co. and went to UMD. Those escalators are the sound of home. When I was taking Japanese Art History 1500-Present the professor had us going to Freer and Sackler Galleries a lot. If any of you have been, you know about the Peacock Room. That room has a really interesting history of design! Look it up!

  4. Lindsey N.

    I grew up next to one of the main highways of my state. There was the backyard, a thin chain-linked fence, some trees and shrubs then BAM highway. That being said I love the sound of traffic. I would spend long stretches of time on the swing-set staring at the cars that would drive by in the afternoons. I would walk to my bus-stop to the sound of rush hour in the morning on my way to school. It was never truly quiet and because of that, I never really felt lonely. I took this comfort for granted and I didn’t realize it until I moved to a new, developing neighborhood out in the country.

  5. Nicole

    One of the most beautiful sounds on this planet is a Harley. So many people hate them (I really dislike the whine of “crotch rockets” so I get it) but I truly love the growl of a well-tuned motorcycle, the “potato-potato-potato” sound.

  6. 2 Stories:

    First – I worked in Vail Colorado for a Winter, 94/95. I lived in the Gondola Building which has now been rebuilt with a new Elevator so you can’t hear it anymore, but, the old one had a Unique sound when the Motor started up, like a ww-AH! During the day, it was always in use so it wasn’t that noticeable, but at night, it meant one of your neighbors was coming home or a friend to visit. I never thought much about it since then until a few years ago when Imagine Dragons came out with their song “I Bet My Life”. I kept hearing that sound throughout the song, that ww-AH! ( you can hear it three times at 1:27, 1:30, and 1:32 here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4ht80uzIhNs) For a few weeks I couldn’t, for the life of me, remember where that sound was from, or even what it was in the song. I eventually recognized that it was the Chorus of Girls singing the word “I” as in “I Bet my Life” but, they kind or screech it. Then, I remembered why I recognize that sound, it was the exact same sound the Elevator made in Vail all those years ago. And, sad to say, yes, the Elevator is gone, or I am sure people could have added it to one of the Tour Bus Stops.

    Second – I grew up in Hawaii, in a house where the Highway was on one side and the Ocean was on the other. The cars driving by in the 70s and 80s were a lot more fun to listen to because they still had fairly loud engines, the more modern ones are far more quite. And, yes, the waves on the beach were nice, but, there was a Sandstone Peninsula a few houses down and the ocean cut a half tunnel like channel into the side of it. You could hear the waves coming in, buzzing down the underside of the “Point” and ending in a “THEW-fsh” as it gushed through the Rock that sat at the end of the beach. People who would visit said they had a hard time sleeping with all the noise going on in our house, but, when I left home to live in Yosemite, I had a SUPER hard time sleeping with all that quiet!

  7. Lilly

    I laughed out loud at work when listening to this because Seattle’s escalators are always closed off with “escalator out of service “ signs. At a station I frequent one escalator has been out of service for the past two months!

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