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It starts with the voice. Before you notice the words, before you detect the gently curling melodies tugging them along, this is what hits you first: It's warm and rich and touched with a soft Southern twang, as likely to swing down into its earthy lower register as arch upwards into a hopeful trill; it's steady and sure but flecked with a certain weary sadness that stops you dead, draws you near. It's beautiful. It knows something.
This voice is Jill Andrews, who's been singing her whole life: as a little girl, as a camp counselor plucking out three chords on an acoustic guitar under swaying pine trees, as one-half of The Everybodyfields—and, since 2009, as an increasingly formidable singer/songwriter making her way on her own.