W: Aurora Blake I: Julia Agnes.
Six bilingual guys, two cities, and a refusal to play background music. Austin and Montreal-based rock outfit Chukwalla are rewriting the rules of modern rock by pairing tight pop hooks with wild, multi-key improvisation.
Split between the sun-baked live music capital of Austin, Texas, and the cultural hub of Montreal, Quebec, Chukwalla are far from your average rock band. First and foremost, they know how to cook well. Secondly, they operate on a simple, uncompromising mandate: they do not make background music. Their sound is catchy but constantly evolving, packed with twists, turns, and unexpected surprises that make it nearly impossible to relegate to study noise.
“We like making rock music that’s catchy but constantly evolving... it probably isn’t the best music to study to.”
Forget the standard three-to-four-minute radio edit format. Chukwalla intentionally occupy the extreme ends of the spectrum, favouring either ultra-concise two-minute blasts or sprawling eight-minute-plus explorations. On the shorter tracks, the goal is to make every single note count and get out before the welcome wears thin. On the longer pieces, the band takes the listener on a genuine journey filled with shifting key signatures, improvisational tangents, and soaring instrumentals.
Ask most bands about their backstage prep and you will hear about cold lagers or quiet stretches. Ask Chukwalla, and things get a bit more primal. Before hitting the stage, the band observes the ancient festival of Thesmophoria, complete with fasting, agricultural magic, throwing decomposed pig remains to praise Demeter, vocal warm-ups, and a shot of mezcal. That raw, chaotic energy translates directly into their new EP, 'July 2026', a project tackling the subtle horrors of modern life like melancholy and anxiety. Rather than wallowing in sad acoustic balladry, the band channels these heavy feelings into high-energy rock.
“There’s some fasting, a little agricultural magic, and we throw decomposed pig remains around. It’s a good way to praise Demeter.”
A standout example of their thematic approach is the track 'No Way Out', which documents the disorienting nature of a panic attack. To mimic the internal time dilation of severe anxiety, where moments feel simultaneously rushed and frozen, the band constantly shifts speeds and dynamics throughout the song. The track captures the emotional spectrum of the experience, moving seamlessly from a nuanced, slow-building piano solo by Vithou into a chaotic, intentionally noisy guitar shred-fest.
Having met while working as session musicians for other artists, the group possesses a rare level of technical fluency. They recorded the EP almost entirely live with minimal overdubs, catching the band on their second or third take, right at the peak of collective discovery. While most scenes force artists into a box, either tight pop songwriting or noodle-heavy jam band territory, Chukwalla bridges the gap. They draw equal inspiration from the bulletproof melodic songwriting of Oasis and Thom Yorke and the exploratory freedom of Phish or Pat Metheny, proving that catchy tunes and open-ended jams can live in the same song.
“Why can’t you have a catchy tune with a great melody and serious lyrics, but also let the band go off and explore a song and see what happens?”
If you dig into the music theory behind their tracks, you will find complex arrangements disguised as accessible anthems. The band routinely writes songs where the intro, verse, and chorus exist in completely different key centres, a deliberate constraint designed to keep the listener in a subtle state of flux. On 'Song 5', for example, the track moves between B major, C minor, and A-flat major in the first two and a half minutes without ever sounding like a maths exercise. They pair harsh, sinister tritones right alongside bright, celebratory chord progressions to keep the listener cycling through tension and release.
“You’re gonna hear the ugliest riff you’ve ever heard followed immediately by a super happy B major chord.”
Despite the physical distance between Texas and Quebec, the band’s chemistry is locked in. With plans already brewing to write and record more material into 2027 and hit the festival circuit, Chukwalla are proving that high-concept rock music still has plenty of room to stretch its legs. Whether you are in it for the singalong hooks, the three-minute piano solos, or cinematic mountain-driving anthems like 'Something Sharper' (which they imagine scored in a Denis Villeneuve film), Chukwalla are carving out a lane that is entirely their own.
'July 2026' EP is streaming now