Lodged between a heartbreak and a smoke break, Kathy Heidemans Move With Love wandered off I-5 somewhere just south of Hungry Valley State Vehicular Recreation Area and broke down. At its dusty roadside, cheap truck-stop java flows over plaintive coffeehouse tunesconcerning Bob and Need. Her session hands lanky, echo-laden guitar mightve twanged a bit strong for the typical sandal-shoed hitchhiker, whod have fell harder for Dylanesque grandeur on The Earth Wont Hold Me. More Bakersfield than Laurel Canyon, and set to walkingin 1976 by the one-off Dia imprint in a plain-Jane, black-on-white sleeve, Heidemans lone LP suffered the geographical misfortune of having ripened in the presilicon orchards of San Jose, California, far from more marketable realms‚ÄîEmmylous backyard, say, or Joni Mitchells summery lawn. Heideman herself faded out thereafter, packing her shaken, singular voice into a rustic suitcase, moseying on, and leaping into the moving sun.