Launching the tape unfolds the longest river still unfounded and outlines new forms in the flood, forms of passengers gone ‘toobing’, doing the dead man’s float, eyes shut, internal visions drifting, camping nowhere near the Amazon. Starting the tape launches into home video memories scored by the warblin’ coffee shakes of a fluttering acoustic guitar. The guitar is called the home warbler. As good as any name. Energy and power, the kind you can hang on a magnet on your refrigerator, while shading the eyes, with your hand as visor, from the incoming of the rising sun through the blind slats and spotty window. Another slow day. Brass organ, accordion, sticks, foot pedals, sand in the shoes - otherwise, another slow…