Late at night, with only the soft patter of rain outside as accompaniment, the PlayStation softly hums, whirrs. The room is pitch dark, except for the glow of the blue-tinged television screen. Eyes fixed, you lounge, not uncomfortably, hardly ergonomically though – captured, comforted.
choke enough captures an intimacy with digitalism that's bracingly honest. Wide-eyed with wonder and possibility, dead-eyed in a trance; allured into the constant and slight edge of unpredictability. Eyes closed, headphones on at the back of the bus, wires fluttering gently against your chest with each bump on the road. A promise of escape into another world.
Avoiding saccharine Y2K revivalism, French artist Oklou instead strips this era down to its barest component parts. It’s a hypnagogic take on hyperpop – where that genre resuscitates past pop trends with unironic maximalism, choke enough instead captures their echoes over time; bare skeletons arranged delicately and gracefully. It’s stunningly constructed art pop, made impactful by its deliberate use of space. A relatively drumless record, choke enough is built largely on a series of twinkling synth arpeggios, Oklou’s vocals burrowed snugly within. Listening alongside her hushed, autotuned confessions, you too are the ghost in the machine.
– but still here, among us. choke enough is arguably ‘nostalgic’ for a certain ‘era’ and its sonic and visual aesthetics. But Oklou’s more overwhelming nostalgia is one for specific memories, based squarely in the physical realm: the trumpet call of an ice-cream truck on ‘ict’, frolicking around neighbourhood streets on ‘family and friends.’ Thus there’s an understanding that while the internet and technology have irrevocably changed our lives, neither have fully replaced it. As do we, Oklou holds both realms in the palm of her hand – why can’t a cheesy trance arpeggio be the soundtrack for a medieval harvest festival? choke enough has vision: not of total technological sublimation, but endless possibility.
Words by Lindsay Riley