Gloriously sunny but full of energy, anchored with Cape Verdean rhythms but always looking afield for inspiration, it was one of those ‘of the moment’ records for world music. Inevitable comparisons were drawn with the original Cape Verdean diva, Cesaria Evora, but in truth, the voices and life experiences of these two women set them apart from the off. Andrade’s tastes are more international (like her upbringing, which took in Cuba, Germany, Senegal and Angola) and she weaves Brazilian, Cuban and other European and African influences into her songs. However, unlike a high percentage of Cape Verdean people, who live abroad, Andrade’s is not music in exile. She sings principally in the Creole language of Cape Verde and her music is rooted in the song forms of the Atlantic archipelago.

Given the success of Navega and considering her youth and beauty, there was always the danger that Andrade’s record label, scenting easy money, would point her towards a too-smooth or easy-listening second release. In a funny way, this has happened. Stória Stória is an even more approachable listen than Navega: the production is fuller and the melodies are perhaps more even-keeled. But fear not, the new album has the stamp of Andrade and her closest collaborators all over it. Any reservations come with the caveat that the new album reveals a more mature artist working at greater depth. In short, it’s a more sophisticated offering.

That remarkable, smoky voice is given space to breath by Brazilian producer Ale Siqueira while the frequent brass, wind and string accompaniments are perfectly pitched - not intruding on the swing of a song but adding texture and emotional weight. The string arrangements especially (by well-known - again Brazilian - cellist Jaques Morelenbaum) add languidly but lustrously to the atmosphere, as on the beautiful ballad ‘Morena, Menina Linda’ and also ‘Odjus Fitchádu’, the results of a recent Andrade collaboration with Israeli artist Idan Raichel.

Other stand-out tracks include ‘Stória Stória’, in which Andrade’s poetic tune develops into a slinky chorus sung by a children’s choir; the call-and-response cool of the percussion-led ‘Nha Damáxa’; the one French number, ‘Mon Carrousel’, which Andrade composed with Portuguese accordionist Celina Da Piedade; and the final song, ‘Lembránsa’, a Cuban-style morna with a delicate cameo from regular partner, Roberto Fonseca.

Stória Stória proves Andrade is a serious and thoughtful artist. If she continues to surround herself with such an eclectic crop of musicians, there is no doubt that as a singer, songwriter and lyricist, her star will continue to rise.