Week 613: “Sand That Moves” by Animal Collective

The Sahara desert is moving.

Or rather, it’s growing.

The estimates vary, but over the past 100 years the world’s largest hot desert has grown by something like 10 to 18%. This is a desert, don’t forget, that’s already as big as the entire United States.

Scientists think that the Sahara has cycled through periods of lush vegetation and arid desert over the millennia, as a result of slight changes in the tilt of the earth’s axis. It should eventually be green again one day, but – surprise! – the effect of humans on climate might prolong the current dry period.

But even though humankind’s number one talent seems to be “messing things up,” our second greatest skill is “trying to make up for it.”

Exhibit A: the Great Green Wall.

Deserts grow when dry spells prevent plants from holding the soil in place, and so an enormous project is underway to build and maintain an 8000km “wall” of greenery along the sahel – the semi-arid region just south of the Sahara – to stop the desert from reaching further south.

It’s a project that would be unbelievably ambitious even if it were being undertaken in a part of the world that wasn’t already struggling with food insecurity and government corruption, but the website documenting the project claims that it is on track, and CNN reported that the project got $14 billion in funding early last year…so it’s possible. Perhaps if some space-obsessed billionaires could be convinced to spend their money down here on earth, we could really build this thing.

Animal Collective’s moody and evocative soundtrack for the documentary Crestone is perfect desert music. Having read the description for the film, I probably won’t be watching it, but I would happily listen to the entire album while watching drone footage of deserts.

What makes this a beautiful song:

1. The harsh sound at the opening, a crossfade from the album’s previous track, grabs your attention like a face full of sand in the wind.

2. The harshness disappears quickly, replaced by softly plucked guitars. But the percussion and long reverb maintains the arid atmosphere.

3. As everything else fades out, just one instrument (a mandolin, maybe?) remains. Awash in reverb, it sounds small and delicate, with the bravery of a small plant holding its ground against an advancing desert.

Recommended listening activity:

Watering the plants while (optional) whispering words of encouragement to them.

Buy it here.