My Streamline tour rolls out in a few days: old school: pushing the Big Lincoln over the hump of the Great Lakes, and onward, onward to the Pacific Coast. Tours like this used to be a rite of passage for Canadian musicians. Where are they now- the ones I used to meet in truckstops up and down the line? There's a whole lot of blues DNA spread alongside these roads. A whole lot of stories. Mill towns with boarded up windows. Ghosts and dust. More than a few dark secrets.
Now it's big spaces between small places across this map. But I'm not done yet: I know where the neon still spins its cool magic. Three chords and the Truth. My name on the battered marquee outside: the Blues is back in town. It's about letting go entirely, and being sucked down the strange vortex of this highway. You: you have no idea what joys I have lost to the storm. I'll tell you a story sometime, sometime.
Sisters, not twins. Working girls. Rough and tough and ready. In Covid times, we're riding a greatly diminished tour across Canada. Venues have restricted numbers. Politics are playing a role province to province. I was hoping that restrictions would be lifting by now, but it seems that the front end will be tight. Who knows what the numbers are going to do? I'm fully vaccinated, and I'll do everything I can to cooperate with each venue in every region to see that my shows are as safe as possible for all of us. Distancing. Restricted numbers. Masking where appropriate. Let's take care of each other.