(White Reeves Productions)

Get me of this plane, I’m not kidding. Man is not meant to fly – we place our trust in a machine made by humans, a species prone enough to mistakes that there is an actual term, “human error,” to account for it. Add that human error to a distance of, like, fifteen hundred miles (or thereabouts) straight up in the air, and you’ve got a very very fast date with a solid surface of a planet you should never have left in the first place.

I hate flying.

But I’m not that crazy. I will if I have to. Which means I need an aural sedative, a valium and white wine ear cocktail. Enter Forest Management, aka John Daniel, whom I’ve written about before. Naturalism and wonder are his forte, served up in meditative slabs of synthy drone. This is perfect for my headphones any time I find myself in one of those ungodly flying machines. All I have to do is shut my eyes, and I’m drifting off on a transcendent journey no one can disturb me from. The three tracks on Shifting form cloud banks of psychological solidity, soft, ambient formations that envelope and support. In fact, if I allow enough time to pass, I’ll probably forget I’m on a plane to begin with. Even if I crack an eyelid, I’ll only bear witness to the cloud formations beneath me, the curvature of the earth, and the sun in the sky. Great – looking just fine. I’ll just have to make sure this C24’s on repeat, otherwise it’ll run out too quickly.

--Ryan Masteller