“Blast off time everybody!” the man with the guitar hollers. He’s known as Tiger. A southpaw, he wears a slide on his right pinky. He plays a note and shakes the slide along the string. His smile broadens. No question, he loves what he’s doing. And Tiger isn’t the only one smiling—so is the bass man, the drummer and most everyone in the audience.
“And now ladies and gentlemen,” Tiger announces, “Mississippi Millie!” A small woman takes the microphone. She starts singing, quietly, drawing y...