What captivates me the most about being a supporter of up-and-coming artists is when you find one like Choker, one who you just seem to know is going to be someone someday. I felt the same way about Kevin Abstract, when I first saw the beautifully blunt music video for “Empty” back in late 2017 for the first time. I sat in my freshman dorm room with my jaw dropped because I had never seen such an unabashed display of queerness from a rapper before, never mind the stunningly well-produced tune and video that went along with it. Now look where Kevin and the rest of Brockhampton are. I believe Choker (A.K.A. Chris) will one day be in the conversations people have about today’s biggest sonic influencers, and the “few widely known and established artists that constantly charge toward the unexplored,” as Chris stated in a 2017 interview with Complex. And he consistently continues to fuel the fire that he’s created.

Each Friday of the past weeks, the 22-year-old, LA-based singer, rapper, writer, and producer from Michigan released one of three short EPs from a project he labeled Filling Space: A Miniseries (2019). Mono No Moto (2019), the first of said EPs, features the lush single “Petrol Bliss,” which strangely contains more song structure and trap-induced drums than most of the tracks from the entirety of his first two full-length projects, Honeybloom (2018) and Peak (2017). Nonetheless, the track features some of his trademark pitched, layered crooning, which sound ever so smooth over the unlikely instrumental of knocking drums and flowing synths. The confident verses are sharply rapped between aggressive and sing-songy flows, and they’re reminiscent of brief, rapped moments from his past work, like short verses on “Moksha” and “Drift.” The song’s earworm of a hook leaves me humming the tune of “confidence in my life” for hours. I don’t even care that I don’t know what he’s saying for like, half a verse, because this track sounds good as hell. For the following two tracks, Choker does what he does best: blend genres in a way that’ll never allow him to be placed in any sort of box ever. He goes from the carefree, heavily harmonized “Lily”– which is the most out-there song on the project — to the soft-spoken, colorfully catchy and rhythmic “Gradient,” which takes an unseen turn into funk-pop during its final moments.

On the 1st of February, he dropped Dog Candy (2019), which ventures away from the electropop elements of the nostalgic, disjointed Mono No Moto, towards a more nuanced R&B palette. Choker commented in an interview with Paper Mag that he wanted to take “abrasive textures” and make them more accessible with this project. We hear this immediately, as the first sounds of the first track, “Dualshock,” are Chris harmonizing with a pulsing synth that grows louder at each go. However, this transitions into a dreamy, quiet couple of verses, both coming from each side of a seemingly toxic relationship. The music video leads the listener to assume that the vocal modulations of each verse signify the gender of each party of said relationship. The song is as sweet sonically as it is flat-out depressing in its reflective lyrical content, which consists of Choker making references to devices that control different kinds of technology as an analogy to the controlling nature of their relationship, hence the title. “Master P” has sort of a neo-soul, The Internet quality to it, which is foreign to anything I’ve ever heard from him. However, he executes it well, unsurprisingly enough. At this point in the project, I think it’s okay to just stop and ask yourself if there’s any sound this guy can’t tackle. “Kiko” is a moody vibe track with infectious melodies and some of the most standout lines of any track of the three albums. I love how introspective he gets with, “I’ve been feeling so much better with my eyes closed / Let my mind hold what my body won’t / And Let my body hold what my mind won’t.”

The soundscape of the final installment Forever and a Few (2019) is a much more acoustic outing than its predecessors. I wouldn’t be surprised if this EP came about from him taking a quick glance at his guitar for inspiration one day. In a Billboard interview, Chris explained that his inspiration was plant-life and organic matter, hence the stripped-back, acoustic arrangements. The opener, “Guava Tea,” sees Choker begging for support from someone until he decides that no one needs him more than he does. Honestly, as interesting as this song seems upon analysis, with its unpredictable, scattered melodies and structures, I find it just fades out almost as soon as it comes on; nothing holds me as much as other tracks here do. Though I guarantee this will change with time, this and “Lily” are probably my least favorites of the trilogy. That’s okay though, because the next track, “Lucky”, is a really pretty fuckin’ song: the intricately woven harmonies sound angelically innocent over the guitar and buried synth; the lyrics and melodies are quite charming and catchy. This is definitely one of my favorite tracks from him, and I can’t help but smile when I hear it. The bittersweet ballad “Guppy” serves as a good send-off to three straight weeks of new music. The slow-moving keyboard and guitar, along with Choker’s beautiful vocals, make me feel like I’m driving down the highway next to the beach with a sunset breaching the horizon.

To say that Choker is a talent to look out for would be an understatement. He sincerely deserves the success that will inevitably fall in his lap. Within the span of these nine tracks, he shows more sonic dissimilitude and artistic character than many artists do in their entire careers. With his thoughtfully tight lyrics and the quality of his sound to often feel so loose, yet so calculated, I absolutely get the impression that he is a perfectionist who tries to hone his craft as much as he can. Even my least favorites of each of these EPs exhibit that he has a rare connection to creativity and experimentation. I told myself I would try not to compare him to Frank Ocean in this review (because people do it way too much), but he and Frank are some of the only artists that break the boundary between telling their own personal stories and making me feel feelings and relate to them. That’s special. And I can’t wait to hear what’s next.

Article by Anthony Vega