Amma

Have you ever felt nostalgic? Ever felt that way about a place you've never been? Well, beGun can show you how, as his debut album evokes a longing for the entire African continent; having been there personally is not a prerequisite. Gunsal Moreno (aka beGun) has always taken specific locations, extracted their essence, and filtered them through his own lens. His reach knows no bounds; he's targeted cities including San Francisco, Mumbai, and Shanghai in the past. Every track has a distinct quality that reflects the perception — or more specifically, his perception — of the city it's been named after. His production style keeps it consistent; his sound sits somewhere between Gold Panda and Flume, the latter's likeness coming from Moreno's reliance on bass and his hip-hop-leaning beats; there's enough buoyancy to serve any live audience, festival and club alike. However, much like Gold Panda, his complex percussion, shimmering synths, and emotive approach suggest a much deeper experience.

On Amma we find Moreno exploring the ideas on his initial EPs to a much greater extent, to the point where you're not entirely sure where on the African continent you're supposed to be transported to — although the consensus is the sub-Saharan climes of West Africa. It works purely because the theme of nostalgia is so universal. Nostalgia is really just romanticism in reverse, and when poured into something as expressive as music we can easily empathize, investing in romanticism or nostalgia depending on whether we have our own memories of the places Moreno depicts. It's an emotive punch that Moreno knows how to pack, and never more expressively than on a full-length record. Opening track "Yoko" works full-tilt to that effect, setting a glittery midtempo pace as the vocals reach out from deep in the mix, brushing past as if overheard in passing. The first few tracks follow that formula. They swirl around you, replicating the intangible nature of memories. Lead single "Dora" represents a slight shift in that respect, as flickering synths are brought to the forefront, guiding you to the breakdown in the latter half of the track. The intense joy and clarity on "Dora" signals a particularly memorable moment, re-created by Moreno for the listener.

Amma often features African instrumentation, even if it gets a little buried at times. However, there's a noticeable difference in how "Mobasi, Pt. 1" allows for a sprawling kalimba to stretch to full effect, while the bass takes a back seat. Amma's four closing tracks represent the weaker side of the album; it becomes hard to differentiate them from everything else. At best they glide past; at worst they play up to declining attention spans, tempting the listener to move on to something else. If nothing else, Moreno knows how to capture the spirit of travel, the rush of exploring a location without staying long enough to notice any negatives. Is the album itself too long? Quite possibly. But you might remember it in a more positive light by glossing over the forgettable ending and reminiscing over its finer moments. Such is the nature of nostalgia.