Connor Wren, despite only having released music this year, is no stranger to the music scene. Having spent a decade shaping music behind the scenes on blockbusters such as Spider-Man: No Way Home and even being credited on artist recordings for pop icons such as Olivia Rodrigo and The Weeknd, Wren is finally stepping into the spotlight with his debut album, Second Adolescence.
Right off the bat, it’s evident that Wren’s found his signature sound. Reminiscent of the ‘90s and early 2000s boy bands, Second Adolescence establishes itself as a modern competitor to those trailblazer boy bands on the first track, “Skyline Heart.” The song, with its catchy chorus and open lyricism, serves as a strong album introduction, setting high expectations for the rest of the LP. True to its name, the music video for “Skyline Heart” features Wren in front of the skyline of Los Angeles. While the video effortlessly showcases Wren’s palpable confidence as a solo act, I do wish there had been more of a storyline woven into it. Wren’s lyrics themselves are incredibly narrative; the visual element could have enhanced this, which seems like a missed opportunity.
Moving through Second Adolescence hits the listener with hit after hit: “Out of Character” boasts a movie montage-worthy chorus, while the titular track kicks off with a vocal riff that even Mariah Carey would be floored by. The latter leans into Wren’s pop sound, with heavy allusions to those early 2000s inspirations, like Gwen Stefani’s 2004 solo debut Love. Angel. Music. Baby.
Second Adolescence’s shortcomings manifest in the form of onlineisms. Following an earwormy homage to toxic masculinity in “Soft” (where Wren sings, “They say a man should be tough / Rough and tumble, hard and gruff / So obsolete, that frame of mind / Leaving the best parts of yourself behind”) comes “POV: Dissociating.” This is the weakest song on the album, as Wren’s genuinely superb musicality is overshadowed by semi-cringey lyrics that take the listener out of his nostalgia-based sound. The combination of early 2000s sound and mid-2020s lingo lands less like a nod to modernity and more like an attempt at TikTok soundbite virality. “Body Language” brings listeners right back on track with earlier songs, making “POV: Dissociating” function more as a last-minute palette cleanser than anything else.
“PhD in Therapy,” the eighth song on the album, had me bracing for a similar vibe as “POV: Dissociating,” yet I was pleasantly surprised by both the rhythm and the lyrics that, coupled with a Sabrina Carpenter-esque outro by Wren, show that this song is the “Espresso” of Second Adolescence — lacking seriousness but nevertheless a fun tune to dance to.
The ending third of the album is where Wren slows down and demonstrates that his talent is not all just synths and flaunting vocal riffs. In “Walls,” Wren’s vocality shines, enhanced by the backing of a cinematic orchestral arrangement that adds weight to his vulnerability. “Your Sunrise is Coming” listens as an emotional love letter to Wren’s younger self (“You won’t find love being someone else”), whereas “Boys Like Us” is then a love letter to the queer community as a whole. Both, however, illustrate Wren’s self-assurance not only in his own sexuality but in his ability to advocate for others who also identify as part of the LGBTQ+ community.
Second Adolescence—a title that surely refers to Wren’s own reclaiming of his past—is a powerful debut for Wren. He naturally produces a timeless sound that doesn’t need to make itself relevant through references to online slang, since the album occasionally stumbles when it leans too heavily into internet-era lyricism. By letting his talent take the center stage, Wren can undoubtedly solidify his solo career in an industry where he’s previously established himself as background support. Nostalgic without feeling stuck in the past, Second Adolescence marks the beginning of a solo career for Wren that feels not only promising but rather already solidified.
