Once described as “a hardcore Kate Bush” or “five people having a panic attack,” Visibly Choked bottle up the collective anxieties of 2021—runaway climate chaos, a tainted drug supply killing thousands, housing out of reach for almost all young people, neoliberal austerity leaving our social programs in tatters, plague rats shutting down hospitals, and a not-so-shocking uptick in white nationalism—and throw it against the wall. 

What sticks is a debut EP stacked with zeitgeist that could pass for the latest shit-hot band out of Melbourne, Austin, or London. Discordant guitar melodies not unlike Institute or Shame with ‘bendy notes’ that aren’t quite whammy bar driven like The Hecks, vocals that range from talky ennui à la Dry Cleaning to panicked and shrill like Gouge Away, and a tight rhythm section that drifts effortlessly from no-wave to noisy post-hardcore, creating an intoxicating combination of toughness with despair and vulnerability.

In the age of the algorithm, it’s difficult to decipher how much influence the above bands had versus a more urgent and organic approach that may or may not have developed from a specific city scene. When asked if it was a conscious decision to adopt this playing style and whether it was a reflection of a new borderless world, the band is thoughtful in their collective response: “The ease with which we can access music through the internet can lead to similar sounds among bands. No one’s music is created in a vacuum and similarities in sounds may be due to the general zeitgeist. These bands are all great but any perceived influence/inspiration is incidental/not intentional. We just try to play as hard (physically) and intuitively (brain) as we can,” before adding that classic Montreal snark, “we base everything on Neil Young.” 

The band’s debut single, “Mother Tongue,” is a deeply personal narrative about the Arab diaspora, fitting into white supremacist colonial outposts of Canada by avoiding the use of “the mother tongue,” impossible beauty standards, and things left unsaid to one’s parents. Singer Gabrielle Domingue’s seemingly classically-trained vocals (what she calls “pretty screaming”) are on full display as the song hinges on a hypnotic and jangly chord progression that builds in tension and tempo, forming a visceral crescendo of immediacy and passion.