7 Songs, 39 Minutes

EDITORS’ NOTES

There’s a bittersweet undercurrent to Cherushii and Maria Minerva’s self-titled EP of synth-pop and leftfield house. “Call me when you feel like talking,” sings Minerva on “A Day Without You,” a wistful love song about “wondering what it would be like to be alone again.” That line hits hard: Cherushii (Chelsea Faith Dolan) was one of 36 people who died in the Ghost Ship fire, which leveled an Oakland warehouse in 2016. Dolan and Minerva were friends, tourmates, and labelmates; these tracks are the result of their nascent collaboration. Like many 100% Silk records, the vibe is carefree, the colors shimmery, the sounds rooted in the 1980s: “A Day Without You” summons the Pet Shop Boys’ sparkle, while “This Must Be the Place” taps the moody minimalism of deep-house innovators like Larry Heard. But what mostly shines through is the duo’s own unique style, with brightly colored synths billowing around propulsive drum programming and starry-eyed vocals. It’s a moving testament to Cherushii’s talents, and a haunting suggestion of what might have been.

EDITORS’ NOTES

There’s a bittersweet undercurrent to Cherushii and Maria Minerva’s self-titled EP of synth-pop and leftfield house. “Call me when you feel like talking,” sings Minerva on “A Day Without You,” a wistful love song about “wondering what it would be like to be alone again.” That line hits hard: Cherushii (Chelsea Faith Dolan) was one of 36 people who died in the Ghost Ship fire, which leveled an Oakland warehouse in 2016. Dolan and Minerva were friends, tourmates, and labelmates; these tracks are the result of their nascent collaboration. Like many 100% Silk records, the vibe is carefree, the colors shimmery, the sounds rooted in the 1980s: “A Day Without You” summons the Pet Shop Boys’ sparkle, while “This Must Be the Place” taps the moody minimalism of deep-house innovators like Larry Heard. But what mostly shines through is the duo’s own unique style, with brightly colored synths billowing around propulsive drum programming and starry-eyed vocals. It’s a moving testament to Cherushii’s talents, and a haunting suggestion of what might have been.

TITLE TIME