What do you say when the word goes by through a window? How do you talk about home when the ground always seems to be shifting under your feet? John Calvin Abney answers this throughout the narrative weaved on Tourist. With this album, you get the feeling of going home to the same landscape and piece of nostalgia, but there is also a layer of deja vu or perhaps a sensation of the uncanny valley. Nothing is different, yet somehow nothing is the same. Also an expression of a life lived passing through towns from one stop to the next. Two themes somehow juxtapose to a single sentiment that’s difficult to put into words, unless you're John Calvin Abney, who somehow knows exactly how to do just that.