Minimalism is like a warm gun. So sayeth the debut from Oberlin Conservatory alumni Travis Johns and Dan Mintz, whose collaboration as Fighter Pilot is as much an experiment with sound as it is a chill-out manifesto. If you can hear anything at all on this high-tech, lo-fi debut, it's the sound of two men guessing. So much of the album appears unplanned and unrehearsed that I'm inclined to say it was a lucky accident that happened to take place while the mics were live. That's when I notice that the album's elements are separated into "phases", and I begin to suspect there's some scholarship at work here. But regardless of the disc's roots, its contents are well worth a spin.

Perched primarily in the upper register, Fighter Pilot is a collection of drones interrupted, of ethereal chimes and counterpoint bass, of keyboards conspiring to lull one another to sleep. It evolves and exists without agitating or causing a commotion. Sometimes it's barely even noticeable; I drove in my car for forty minutes and nearly changed the radio channel twice because I forgot I had a CD playing. But to complain about the album's non-impact is to miss the point. Saying "nothing happens" on Fighter Pilot is like saying nothing happens when a flower opens -- it's all a matter of perspective.