She can’t help it: as soon as she gets her hands on an instrument, she has to tame it, decipher it, she must learn to play it. After a first experience in a band, Débora Umbelino became Surma, a woman-orchestra of a quarter of a century of age who juggles with notes and arrangements. Here and there, she puts her eternal child’s voice on songs that give pride of place to electronics and, with a dreamlike dimension, cultivate mystery and let the imagination wander. Elusive, unclassifiable, Surma declines with her lips a light and dark pre-pop, drawing a universe where intimacy and beauty go hand in hand.