"Andy From 5 to 7" is one of those rare podcasts that doesn't just fill time — it reshapes it. Andrew (Andy) brings a kind of textured introspection that feels both deeply personal and quietly universal. Each episode unfolds like a conversation you didn’t know you needed — unhurried, intelligent, and emotionally alive.
There’s a humility to the way he observes the world, yet his insights often land with the quiet force of something revelatory. Whether he’s weaving through memory, yelling at Romeo (OJ), or fleeting moments of daily life, Andy holds space for complexity without ever reaching for pretense.
To listen to Andy From 5 to 7 is to momentarily slip the noose of linear time. Here, the hours between 5 and 7 cease to be mere numbers on a clock — they become a metaphysical condition, a liminal space where Andy, like a postmodern flâneur, wanders the boulevards of thought, irony, and occasionally, unbrushed sincerity.
The podcast is less an audio program than a phenomenological experiment: What happens when a man speaks — not to the world, but near it? What unfolds when jokes are made with the tone of prophecy, and digressions are the main event?
Highly recommended for scholars of Being, fans of silence interrupted by speech, and anyone who's ever looked at a sunset and thought, "This reminds me of a bit Andy did in Episode 4."
