What exactly is it that separates "A Collision" from the rest of the pack? Well, for starters, how many CDs do you know that were initially inspired by a science book? “It all started with this book my wife found while shopping at an antiques store in downtown Chicago where I was playing a show,” Crowder recalls. “It was "The Story of Atomic Energy" by Laura Fermi. She was a peace activist but also the wife of a famous physicist. For those who don’t know, the Fermi National Accelerator Laboratory, which is home to the most powerful atom collider in the world, just happens to be located outside of Chicago.”

Thinking it interesting that his wife would “procure this particular book” on a wintry day in Chicago, the self-proclaimed lover of “semiotics, symbols and iconography” was immediately captivated by the image on its cover. “It was this pale green book with the usual depiction of a nucleus with electrons swirling around it,” Crowder says. “As I looked at it, I thought it was so cool that this book about energy had a symbol that represented energy on its cover. It didn’t have any words, but yet I still understood that they were going to be talking about energy inside.”

And it was that literary find in a stack of used books that helped inspire the concept behind "A Collision." “When it comes down to it, this model is improper in its depiction of particular matter,” he adds. “We know that electrons don’t circle in elliptical paths around a nucleus. And this is why symbols aren’t always a correct depiction. They are always a little broken. And when I thought about it while freezing in the middle of a downtown Chicago intersection, this incomplete drawing helped me realize that this is what art really is. We are creating what ends up being broken containers.”

As he talks, there’s almost a giddy enthusiasm in his voice when he recalls that afternoon in Chicago that changed the course of "A Collision." Well, that, plus a little bluegrass thrown in for good measure, and a tragedy.

An Introduction to Bluegrass and Tragedy

Now if you’ve heard any of Crowder’s previous efforts, you know there’s nary a fiddle to speak of. He and his band were presented with a challenge, a triple-dog dare if you will, from the grandfather of one of Crowder’s band mates after a show in Dallas: “You boys should do a bluegrass number, as it is the superior variety of music!” And so began what Crowder calls “his eschatology of bluegrass.”

As Crowder became a student of the genre, he discovered that most bluegrass songs share something in common:  a yearning for heaven that is often referred to as “the sweet by and by” or “flying away to glory.” At first, Crowder was a bit disturbed by what he found. “It seemed there was this glaring, unbalanced doctrinal depiction of the kingdom of heaven,” he comments. “So I had this fear that this approach to Christian living has led many a person’s head into the clouds and allowed them to justify neglecting bringing the kingdom of heaven into the here and now.”