It’s a hell of a time for solo projects. As we collectively watch the world literally and figuratively burn through the tiny frames of our phone screens, it’s hard not to ruminate on the concept of entropy–to recognize it all around us on macro and micro levels–and it’s hard not to crave a protective pulling inward. A safe place to hide. A cocoon we can crawl into and hope for a transformation. In ourselves and in the world outside.
But we’re humans, not bugs, and transformation doesn’t happen in a vacuum, it happens through connection and creation and reaching out. Sending little signals across the void in the hope of finding someone else alive out there who’s transforming too, despite the inevitability of an ending.
This is the water that Michael Smyth is swimming in with his new solo project, Silk.
“I constantly feel like I am rushing towards the inevitable infinite oblivion. Further exacerbated by the marking of years spent circling the sun. To that end, it’s important that I fill the time remaining with joyous, creative acts. The sharing of ideas is an essential part of that, which brings us to Silk.”
Used to channeling a more punchy, energetic and vocal-forward sound with his main project Virgins, left to his own devices he’s loosened things up. Where Virgins takes studious notes from a laundry list of heavy hitting shoegaze, power pop and 90’s alt outfits of yesteryear, Silk is through and through a one-person show, and his focus is consequently more narrowed when pulling from the canon. The resulting sound is more classically shoegaze: wide, encompassing and expansive. The reverb and chorus are turned up, the fuzz is engaged, and the lyrics are soothingly unintelligible, like hearing someone you love talking quietly in the next room as you fall asleep. According to Michael, “the sound of Silk exists in the purgatory state of half awake-half dreaming”
The debut single Faze allows the vocals to sit back and wrap themselves protectively in the mix, letting the loose harmonics of the guitars weave themselves into clearer, more shimmery layers. The ringing, repetitive riffs echo the cyclical nature of existence and the inevitability of entropy, while at the same time celebrating it. An ecstatic circling of the drain. That feeling of spiraling weightlessness is buoyed by long decays and quiet reverberating melodies that almost feel like a question answering itself.
“Will we be okay?”
“I don’t know”
It’s a hell of a time for solo projects, and Faze feels like a balm for the moment. If this is a taste of things to come on a full album from Silk, I am 100% tuned in and ready to receive the transmission.
Written by Jenn Pellerin

