Oklou Sings Hymns For The Digital Age on “Choke Enough”
Graphic by Monika Krueger
By Bennett Himmel
Oklou’s debut album has been a long time coming. I remember first listening to her breakout 2020 mixtape Galore, awestruck by how effortlessly she mixed meditative ambient music, sticky pop hooks, and classical piano melodies into something nocturnal, pastoral, and completely, utterly singular. For years, all I wanted was another full-length Oklou project, but the French singer and producer is nothing if not elusive. After a stint opening for fellow pop weirdo Caroline Polachek, she all but disappeared from the internet, occasionally poking her head out of the sand for a funny tweet or a collab with EDM powerhouse Flume. But here she is, five years later with Choke Enough, an album that evolves upon the sound she created on Galore– she takes us out of the forest, leads us to the door of the club, and leaves us outside to soak in the sounds.
The lead single, “Family And Friends” feels like the perfect bridge between the dark of Galore and the blinding blue light of Choke Enough. Over an insistent marimba, Oklou begs the forces above to let her “forever lie in bed, blessed by family and friends.” The song feels like a hyperspeed hymn for the digital age. It has all the reverby quietness of Galore, but it takes place at sonic daybreak. All over Choke Enough, Oklou sings of a need to feel free, to know all there is to know. On the highlight “ict,” she repeats a chorus that feels almost nonsensical: “Strawberry dancer, vanilla summer, driver pull over, ice cream truck.” Despite the general free-associative nature of Oklou’s lyricism, she gestures at feelings perfectly.
What makes Choke Enough different from the near-constant stream of avant-club albums coming out right now is that the clubbier it gets, the quieter it becomes. On the title track, one of her finest songs to date, the lyrics are buried under trancey, beep-boop synths. The song gets bigger and bigger, but never explodes. In the hands of a lesser artist, this would leave the listener feeling unsatisfied, but Oklou elevates the evergreen feeling of “crying in the club” to something bigger and grander than what it is on its surface. “Harvest Sky,” a collab with hyperpop wunderkind Underscores is the closest thing to a straight-up banger on Choke Enough. Despite the danceable beat, the lyrics tell the tale of pure anxiety in the club, a concept I’ve never heard a song about before. “When I watch from the balcony, I feel alright,” Underscores groans before a drop. It’s the best case we have for Oklou as a pop star.
Choke Enough’s more gentle moments are no less fascinating. “Take Me By The Hand,” which features sadboy supreme Bladee, brings back the more ambient vibes of Galore for a true love song. Bladee and Oklou make such a natural pair (they both make hazy, pop-adjacent music), I would love to see a Bladee album produced entirely by her. The closer, “Blade Bird” is stunning and unlike anything else on the record. “You’re so cute / my blade is on the bird / I’ll be the one who ends up getting hurt,” she sighs over a digitized, gently plucked acoustic guitar.
Choke Enough is a brilliant pop record, but as a whole, it feels less urgent than Galore, which is one of the most transformative 30 minutes of pop I’ve ever heard. I understand that it’s unfair to expect an artist to constantly improve upon their sound, or worse, deliver the same thing twice, but there’s a part of me that wishes the lyrics on this thing were stronger. They’re more singular, sure, but they’re also more opaque. Songs like “God’s Chariots” and “Unearth Me” off of Galore were completely universal love songs; the ones on Choke Enough feel less accessible, though nevertheless rich with emotion. The main theme of Choke Enough is how feelings can take over our entire body and send us into a trance-like state. While Galore was mostly a collection of nocturnal love songs, Choke Enough is made up of blinding declarations of feeling alive. “Is the endless still unbound?” Oklou asks on the opener. On Choke Enough, it is.