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I've decided that I like Sweden because of the dirty secrets that lie beneath its graceful, streamlined output; like an Ikea escritoire gilded with Nazi gold. Anna Ternheim is an East Village (by way of Sweden) singer-songwriter whose delicate yet severe tone leaves her sounding like a victim only playing hurt as the mechinations of revenge are set in motion against he who has done her wrong. It's been some time since coming across an artist who so deftly balances the pastoral and the direct, and I'm kinda angry that I missed her [...]
















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