Music and the Brain

The link between human language and our appreciation of music has often been explored, as far back as Darwin and his hypothesis of a musical protolanguage. If, as it has been shown, that music and language share processing locations in the brain, then what is the consequence, if any, of being tune deaf on language ability?
We have previously posted and pondered on the condition, amusia, also known as tune deafness here at the Bayblab. Essentially amusia sufferers have difficulty following pitch changes in music. You have probably heard sufferers of this condition at Karaoke night, and you can take this very interesting test to see if you too are tune deaf and have made others suffer on Karaoke night.
A recent study has found that indeed amusia has consequences for language processing. While the importance of tune in music is obvious, tune is also important to communicate an emotional quality to spoken words. Pitch changes in language can indicate sarcasm, irony, irritation and other emotions that are independent of the words that are spoken. As you might guess, according to this study, it is the interpretation of these emotional tonal cues of language that are deficient in sufferers of congenital amusia. Of course, this doesn't mean that sufferers can not interpret body language or other cues, however the deficit is significant enough that some sufferers are aware of their difficulty in this respect. I have been looking for any information on amusia in people who speak tonal languages as I imagine it would be very debilitating. In any case, next time someone you tell someone how fantastically frequent Bayblab updates have been recently, and they agree, don't let them sing at Karaoke night.

Foreign Accent Syndrome

Foreign Accent Syndrome is a rare condition that can occur after brain injury. With this condition, a patient speaks the same language, but with a different regional accent (for example, a person from the American midwest may adopt a British accent). Recently at McMaster University, and published in the Canadian Journal of Neurological Sciences [press release] a Canadian case was reported. In this instance, a woman from Southern Ontario suffered a stroke and began speaking with a Newfoundland accent, which continues even two years after the original brain injury:

"Rosemary's speech is perfectly clear, unlike most stroke victims who have damage to speech-motor areas of the brain," says Humphreys. "You wouldn't guess that the speech changes are the result of a stroke. Most people meeting her for the first time assume she is from out East. What we are seeing in this case is a change in some of the very precise mechanisms of speech-motor planning in the brain's circuitry."

Tom-a-to, Tom-ah-to

Above is a map of regional use of generic terms for soft drinks in the US (curiously, 'soft drink' doesn't make the cut). I find the use of 'coke' as a generic term kind of interesting. It's sort of like kleenex, except if you ask for a kleenex nobody is going to complain if you get a Scott tissue instead of a Kimberly-Clark.

"I'll have a coke please"
"What kind?"
"7-up"

To see what classifies as 'other', or for Canadian statistics, go here (Massachusetts calls it 'tonic')
[h/t: Gene Expression]

Tongue-tied: The evolution of speech

This comes from an old conversation that I was reminded of recently. Compared to the rest of the animal kingdom, humans fall short physically in a number of ways. Eyesight isn't as great as some, hearing and sense of smell worse than others. I could go on. Yet humans have dominated the face of the planet, and this is in no small part because of language. Sure, the ultimate reason is intelligence, which means we don't need to rely as strongly on pure physical assets. But what good are plans and ideas if they can't be communicated. An evolution beyond primal vocalization (grunts, growls, etc.) has allowed for the sharing of ideas, coordination of effort through communication and dissemination of knowledge and information. But when did the skill of speech being to arise?

In the 1970s, using human and chimpanzee models, the larynx of a neanderthal fossil was reconstructed leading the researchers involved in the study to conclude that neanderthal was incapable of human speech. This reconstruction was disputed based on the placement of they hyoid bone (which was unlike the position in newborn or adult humans, stillborn chimpanzees or adult chimpanzees and positioned on the basis of ability to swallow) and whether neanderthal man could speak remained uncertain.

In 1989, new neanderthal fossil evidence - a well preserved hyoid bone identical in size and shape to modern humans - indicated that indeed at least the skeletal structures and morphology necessary for speech were present at this stage in human evolution, and has changed little in the past 60 000 years. Of course, this alone doesn't prove that Neanderthal man was capable of speech, but along with other evidence - adequate brain development, and social organization that would necessitate some form of higher communication - certainly suggests that this was the case.

More recent computer simulations based on models of neanderthal vocal tracts demonstrated that if the larynx was posistioned like that of humans, the voice would have been extremely low and difficult to communicate effectively with. If it was positioned like that of a chimp, the words would be "slushy and difficult to understand."

The problem with any model of the vocal tract is that the ability to speak is dependent on the larynx, tongue and other soft tissues that don't fossilize well so their size and position in neanderthal man is speculative at best, but with evidence both for and against neanderthal speech a consensus in this debate is unlikely to be settled soon.

On the other hand, there may be a genetic answer to the neanderthal speech question: FoxP2. This highly conserved gene is required for some of the developments necessary for speech and tracing it's evolution could give answers as to when language developed.