Though she’s based in Los Angeles, the folk-pop musical artist The Wren draws her name from the official bird of Arizona, her home state and one of clear resonance to her identity. Falling into the blanket of profound lyrics and calming soundscapes, The Wren is a singer-songwriter that like most attempts to use her music to tell stories that give voice to her innermost thoughts, reminiscent of talents like Dodie and Orla Gartland whilst distinctly her own. Her newest and second release ‘december’ continues her theme of storytelling with a depth, telling her own darkened tale amidst a sound you can’t help but find a home in.

Dainty acoustic guitar strums lead into the wispy experience of ‘december’, creating a dynamic that can’t help make you feel like you’re floating amongst the warm tones and seeping emotion. At first complemented by just The Wren’s vocals, the track soars in a subdued minimalism, melting the lower guitar timbre with a delicate, slightly higher vocal performance that interweaves a natural rawness in every word. Picking up in percussion as you journey through, ‘december’ adds subtle beats, ambient synths and haunting backing harmonies that all together feels so gracefully light but profoundly powerful in its impact. Becoming more dominant towards the end of the release, the acoustic guitar carries an animosity in its more vigorous strums and a tension rises in the raising beat, carrying the listener through a true experience of love and loss, as well as letting go simply through The Wren’s diverse sonic fluctuation. What started in ‘december’ as something safe and slow for you to rest within quickly becomes a mountain of apprehension, mirroring its storytelling and making sure not a moment of this five minute adventure could lose your interest for even a moment.

With such a tender sound, there’s no doubt that the equally heart-wrenching narrative that ‘december’ wields is a perfect fit for such intimacy, lyrically opening up on how The Wren ended a relationship by removing her rose-colored glasses of infatuation and came to her senses to see her partner as the heartbreaker they’d been all along. Boasting a message of self-love in singlehood, ‘december’ speaks to those who need to hear that the bad behaviour and red flags they’re overlooking aren’t worth the pain. Lead in by a profoundly thought-provoking question, ‘what version of you does she get?’, The Wren spends these mesmerising five-minutes divulging into the character of her past lover with detail that can’t help but remind you of how human we all are beneath the skin. Little nods like relating them to a ‘broken little kid’ almost see The Wren bearing sympathy whilst she’s still well-aware they’re quite the toxic partner, capturing the double-edged struggles of letting go of someone bad for you when in your heart you still wish to come to their aid. Although ‘december’ spills out like an observational release watching from afar and seeing someone new make the same mistakes she once made, there’s a sense that it also delivers like a warning from the future with The Wren talking to her past-self through every concerned line and newfound realisation. From the fast-paced romance, ‘i bet she thinks she’s really in love’, to the questions The Wren finds herself asking, ‘does she know that you like to lie? … does she know you like to change your mind?’ , ‘december’ seems to jump between the stages of a relationship and the shattering of reality that came with taking a step back from the whirlwind romance to see it for what it was. If you find yourself relating a little too hard to The Wren’s powerful lines, then don’t forget to play ‘december’ loud and search for your own guidance within it.

Check out ‘december’ for yourself here to truly appreciate the sonically built journey of sound that The Wren has captured, as well as a story that’ll linger on your heart for long after listening.

Written by: Tatiana Whybrow

Photo Credits: Ursula Bowling