Dream Big

Yaka slips into the APPX catalogue a hi-def 8 part narrative. Coated in silky sonic camouflage the Philadelphian sound designer, producer, and apparent amphibophile, conjures an aquatic instrument-rack straight out the estuary, and re-engineers it into a kind of amphibient-bass eco-system: part poolside bio-luminescence, part Severn-side subsidence. Welling with emotion ‘Dream Big’ is a joyride with your favourite frog-sage homies. It’s devotional, yes, but with a wink. Orchestrated by a bayou-mystic who’s just as likely to kiss the ring-modulator as they is to throw a shaka from his boogie board as they carves a line down stream.

The opening track “chrysalis of peace” builds like a choral summoning, beckoning you outward. “blubstep” shakes itself off and stretches into scattered breaks, sprinkles of underworld energy flickering beneath the surface. On “la pari,” the daemons find their stride in a huge leap into bass, punctuated by vocal satire, kitschy melodic fun, and an Amazonian sweat capable of humidifying any dancefloor. “miss that beach” slows the A-side into a thoughtful drift on a lilo, the distant sounds of cousins playing while wind lifts leaves overhead.

Flipping the disc, “buggged” arrives as a beat you can imagine bounding out of a Timbaland studio, tiptoeing in and out of 4/4 club jack. “back at the pad” breaks stride with a halftime depth that keeps you poised, like the surface tension of a water droplet in zero gravity. “weavin’ web” threads ascending melodic patterns over raised nodules of rhythm. Closing the album, “secret dream” dissolves into a private horizon — something half-remembered, half-invented — left for the listener to discover on their own.