'Peak' by Choker is like if Frank Ocean's 'Blonde' and 'Endless' release had been a trio

No artist really wants to be compared to another, but if the forebear in question is Frank Ocean then it's essentially a case of godlike by association.

Back in May, a 21-year-old from Michigan named Chris dropped a debut album that burrowed under the radar. It wasn't until late summer when I was recommended it (by a producer Frank works with as it happens), and I've since been responsible for a probably sizeable amount of its fairly minimal Spotify plays. Peak by Choker (the artist name alludes to old metal bands; "I wanted a name that clashes with the type of music I make," Chris told Pigeons And Planes, one of the few outlets who didn't sleep on him) is an absurdly well-crafted, polished, furnised and decorated first album, which explodes modern R&B out into an astral expense. Suffuse with undulating reverb and overlapping vocals, each song has an orbit-like pull to it but is indistinct enough that it ends up feeling more like a gravitational slingshot, propelling you into the next song and the new environment that awaits you there.

The similarities to Frank's work - particularly Blonde and Endless, to which Peak could easily be a relative - are clear right from the opener, 'Mango - Mountain Version', and Choker isn't going to front like he doesn't see them. "Of course I'm inspired by him," he said in the same interview, "I think any kid putting music on the internet in this current climate would be lying if they said Odd Future wasn't an influence in some way, shape, or form."

open image in gallery

Choker's inflection, scattered-thought lyrical style and use of instrumentation (particularly guitar) definitely evoke Ocean but aren't diminished by this major comparison. They stand up.

Self-produced and with no guest features, Peak shows a crazy amount of talent at every level, from the vocals, which dance between slurred, dual octave confessions and falsetto yells, to the moreish drum beats you'll be slapping out on your thighs on bus rides, and salted caramel chorus melodies.

Choker admits that song structure's not particularly important to him, and often tracks on the album feel like they're unravelling as they roll along, only a for a bonafide, punchy hook to hit out of nowhere.

The soulful, two-part 'Diorama' has the quality of a metal car hood gleaming in the sunlight. 'Lush' is up there with any final-thoughts album closer's put out in the last few years. The insanely catchy 'El Dorado' straight-up deserves to be a hit single, Billboard charts and everything.

Lyrically, the album is top-to-bottom excellent and engaging too, with Neo Yokian pseudo-philosophical conversations...

...Rubbing up against reminiscence of the fiendish innocence of childhood...

Before Choker performs tongue backflips to work in architecture:

Confidence radiates from him. Hell, at one point ('Tape: Side A') he gives a standalone verse a refrain, speaking the lyrics back to you just to make sure you heard them.

All this and he's yet to even perform live or release a music video. If he keeps the focus and there's more cosmic fuel in the tank, this kid could be huge.