In the social sciences, the liberal and the fine arts, our favorite cross-disciplinary concept is that of Determinism. The basis of the principle is that environment (or a collective set of sequences or experiences), rather than biology, is the dominating influencer of our make-up on a emotional and behavioral level. It spreads its fun everywhere, from gender and self-identification studies, to (our favorite) language. In Linguistical Determinism, the theory goes so far as to claim that language (the collective set of sequences and experiences) drives thought, and not, as we might expect, the other way around.

So, taking the most popularized and generally misunderstood application of this theory, an Eskimo does not have many many more different words for snow that we do because she is always around snow, but that the need to communicate different aspects of snow (such as wetness and density) as part of the process of staying alive has actually created a greater granularity of distinction between individual characteristics in her mind. It’s not that there are more words for snow (though there are), it’s that the utility for each is sufficiently silo-ed from one another to create a greater number of distinct categories in the lexicon than there otherwise would be. This is the opposite of, say, how Frogger views motor vehicles; there is no distinction between vans and cars and trucks from his perspective – they are all automobiles attempting to massacre him. THAT BLOWS OUR MINDS.

We’ve always wanted to see (and perhaps there is an enterprising ethnomusicologist out there who has already, unsung, performed such research) some empirical examination of the role of environment in creating some of the more prominent music scenes in the last 30 years (punk started 30 years ago folks. 30). For example, what role, if any, did the long Minnesota winters have in the creation of Minneapolis punk/hardcore’s (bands like The Replacements and Husker Du) distinctly un-LA or DC sound? Can we create a line of influence between the region’s largely Scandinavian heritage and aspects of their mother tongue to the somewhat poppier, mellower and relaxed content of those bands when compared to their coast-originating contemporaries? Why is the leading factory for the assembly line manufacture of the Country and Western Music Industrial Complex music located on the other side of the Mississippi?

And what is it about Houston’s near and far East Side that has led it to be such a dependable source of re-imagined Americana over the years? From Janis Joplin to ZZ Top to current burners like Buxton and News on the March? Does the ‘March’s Glory Be EP (the first recorded with the full band) sound as though it was recorded in a room with the shutters tightly sealed and only kerosene lamps to light because East Siders dwell in a world where Hurricanes are a psyche-influencing reality (so much so that, after the album was recorded but before it was submitted for pressing, the roof of their studio and practice place was peeled off by Ike’s careless hands)? Is it the chemical plants that mar the vistas of their bayous’ banks that causes their take on country music’s pastoral side to mix so much guile within the glee?

And yet, in spite of these shadows, Glory Be is ultimately a joyful record, one that smiles on the high road with compositions that are catchy without being particularly hooky and grounded in an experienced realism without being hokey. It’s sipping tea on a porch while planning a picnic, even though the clouds tell you otherwise. Though it may be the dead-horse of their many praises, the vocal melodies/harmonies here are a stunning throwback to a time of taken-for-granted vocal prowess long since discarded in favor of affectation to avoid a gap in ability. Album closer “Clappin’ Good Time,” with its kiss of horns and sing-along closing has been a delicious counterpoint to the drat that has been crashing into our lives lately. And isn’t that the role of good music, to be antidote or accompaniment of the particulars of an environment to counterbalance the wave of woe or catch the wave of wonder? Glory Be is good medicine indeed. Recommended.

Glory Be is available at finer record stores around town, including Sig’s Lagoon, or you can pick up a copy at their show tonight at Rudyard’s with Lonely Dear and Alkari.  To hear tracks from the album, visit their MySpace.