Andrea Silva hails from Bogotá, Colombia, where she roamed freely with horses and collected star dust in mason jars she fashioned out of glass from vacant shores. Somewhere in this combination of activities she formed a sound equal parts clean and dystopian. A sound she perhaps found by jiggling around restlessly an abandoned shoebox imagining it was a magic eight ball which would reveal a perverse and icy future. Instead she has thus excavated songs which are somehow dejected and reflect a vague hope to belong. 

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