I have little idea if Logan Jackson is truly from Logansport (consider it your idea of Pawnee if you must, though geographically that’s more akin to Bedford if you want a lesson in Indiana) but its certainly draped within Beauty in Belief. Not because of any supposed wholesomeness within a Butternut state but because of the simple, idyllic ruminations of Jackson’s sweet ambient swing. This is why I turn to Ginjoha batch after batch—a manner of drone both contemplative and salubrious. This is a palette cleanser for big city living and current transgressions (however defined). Logansport is angelic, uplifting without the booming prophetic doomsday voyeurism of preachers invading small campuses (I can’t count how many times I encountered this during my days at generic state Indiana college). We are all absolved in Jackson’s confessional booth, without prejudice or judgment. Hell, there is no sin to be found no matter your home. We’re all just trying to do the best we can for ourselves, our loved ones, and the community. At least Logansport would have you believe, and it’s worth believing in.