Wrené Nova is a producer, sound design artist, songwriter, and vocalist between the Toronto and Montreal creative scenes. Since 2019, she has independently written, produced, and released music that exists outside of conventional lanes. Her latest release THE INTANGIBLE sits at the intersection of avant-pop, electronic art music, and contemporary balladry. Released as a physical vinyl, the project is an intentional act  – a commitment to depth, patience, and human presence in an era increasingly shaped by digital replication and algorithmic flattening.

“I’ve always been interested in what can’t be seen – the emotional undercurrents, the things people feel but don’t articulate. As an artist producing my own work, I wanted to escape into something that honoured that invisible space – bringing an unexplainable sense of ‘heaven ‘- or even a peaceful ‘undoing’ into my physical world through heavy times. Pressing the record on physical vinyl makes that desire all the more palpable, and hopefully, closer to being real.

“THE INTANGIBLE is my attempt to make the unseen audible. It’s an electronic album, but it isn’t cold. It breathes – built from vulnerability, distortion, restraint, and release. It’s about losing faith in the external world and slowly learning to build it within yourself instead.”

Intimate yet expansive, the record explores fragmentation, longing, wavering faith, defiance, and self-reclamation. THE INTANGIBLE constructs a textured sound world designed for intentional listening. It is not built for passive consumption, but for immersion. We asked Wrené to do an in depth track by track breakdown of THE INTANGIBLE for us. Read it below.

Archangel

‘Archangel’ opens the record as both homage and confrontation. Inspired by and sampling Burial’s Archangel, but with added lyrical narrative- the production leans into organic drum samples, fragmented atmosphere, and emotional restraint- echoing the UK underground textures that shaped its DNA.

It explores the oscillation between light and shadow in intimacy- in relation to others, as well as one’s self. Lyrically, it voices that figurative angel and the devil on one’s back when feeling love. It’s a bit of an anti-romance song: less about connection, more about navigating the complexities of projection, distortion, and self-sabotage. It’s when you’re unsure what is real- and so you choose simplicity instead. Ironically enough, most people’s response to this track in particular is sound focused and surface level. All this angst, but in a danceable song- the perfect image of denial. The substance underneath is not overt- It’s almost hidden within its own shadow.

No Flag

A cover of Visions of Trees’ ‘No Flag,’ this track anchors the album in longing and escape. The repeated line- “I’ve gone too far, now it’s too deep.” and “Don’t point your finger at me.”- becomes a confession of displacement and defiance. An expression of I DON’T BELONG HERE.

Within the arc of the album, ‘No Flag’ represents exile. The character stands isolated, imagining another life beyond the borders of their current limitations. It is the moment of looking outward toward a psychedelic, vast elsewhere- or the potential of colour, before taking the risk to move towards anything.

NSATW

‘NSATW’ marks a plunge into starkness. The title evokes a nervous system exposed- like a tree with many branches, all of its nerves stripped bare in cold air- at least, that was the image that inspired it! Sonically and emotionally, the track embodies isolation and a wavering faith, with the repeated phrase “too long, too long” reinforcing the feeling of being trapped in a psychological loop.

It is the moment where longing meets reality- colder and more surreal than imagined-yet there is defiance in it. Even stripped down and vulnerable, the figure faces the wind with bare skin anyway. It is the first emergence of the “No Skin Against the Wind” concept in the arc of the album.

The Depths of Your Insolence

Influenced by collaboration and title inspiration from avant electronic producer Kaleidokitty, this track erupts in rage and clarity. It captures the breaking point-the moment of realizing that someone has chosen comfort over truth, avoidance over authenticity. And the grief of inevitable separation that follows.

It feels like shouting across a void: calling someone to wake up while you yourself are falling. It is a confrontation with denial- both theirs and your own.

No Skin Against the Wind

The full return of ‘No Skin Against the Wind’ appears here as a stripped-back piano ballad, featuring contemporary pianist and composer Sam Fortin. Where ‘NSATW’ was distorted and fragmented, this version is clearer, spacious, and grounded.

It represents revisiting pain with awareness. The exposure is still there, but there is more room to breathe. The distortion has cleared, revealing strength beneath vulnerability. It is not escape- it is integration.

brightyellowlightwillweevermeet

This track acts as a threshold. The dream you have before you wake. Abstract and ambient, the dream-state functions between collapse and reconstruction – it’s the final breath of Side A before the sunrise of Side B.

It imagines a golden presence: perhaps a person, perhaps a future self, perhaps something divine or imagined. The longing here is subconscious-less desperate, more visionary. It is the liminal space between day and night, between despair and the warmth that becomes so palpable in that dream.

Tomorrow Will Come (Drip Drop)

Opening Side B, this track rises like sunrise- with the possibility of warmth carrying through in a way both rich in colour and weightless . Driven by deep 808 rhythm, it shifts the album’s emotional temperature toward hope and self-trust, charged with an ‘afterglow’ from the dream, or the trip that happened on the previous track

The lyrics, such as “If you break, I’ll cradle every damaged piece” introduces a new theme of nurturance, not in fantasy but in grounded resilience. It feels more embodied and forward-moving. The will to live fully, once abstract, begins to stabilize- an evolved perspective from since the beginning of the story.

Unconditional

A stripped-back piano ballad, ‘Unconditional’ delivers a quieter but sharper clarity. With Sam Fortin’s performance acting as it’s pulse- It explores the painful revelation of where love has been poured into places that could not hold it. This is the song of “unseeing” -the moment where illusion dissolves and truth becomes undeniable. It is both devastating and liberating.

whatyougavemightneverreturnbutyouwilltransform

Originally conceived as an earlier, electronic version of ‘Unconditional’, this track fit more appropriately with the context of the rest of the album as a transitional soundscape- bridging the raw piano clarity of ‘Unconditional’ into a more digital and electronic terrain. It exists now within the arc of the album as a contemplation of the track before it, and changes its temperature.

It represents the moment after acceptance: the recognition that while something given may never return, transformation is inevitable- or unavoidable! The emotion becomes less narrative and more atmospheric -a shift from confession into integration.

NO FLAG REPRISE

Structured like a theatrical reprise, this track revisits earlier themes as they begin to dissolve. A big theme overall on this album is the dissolution of self- The intensity of ‘No Flag’ reappears in shortened, immaterial form -like memory losing its sharpness, blurring into a distant abstraction. The lyrics from its earlier presence are cut, stretched, and manipulated- almost how your mind paints or is selective of what was ever said before.

It mirrors how experience becomes abstracted over time: what was once heavy and overwhelming softens into feeling without language- and becomes almost warm. Like how juvenile memories that were complex at the time are softened into being almost charming, out of sheer nostalgia. This is the sense that the story is nearing its close -not through resolution, but through integration.

I wander…

One of the album’s most expansive moments, ‘I wander…’ emerged organically in collaboration with Sam Fortin (who contributed his brilliant and expressive piano performance on all of the earlier tracks) during a long, immersive session. Unlike the heavier conceptual tracks, this one was more of a discovery.

Warm, groovy, and horizon-facing, it carries the energy of summer light, emotional openness, and psychedelic flow. Positioned later in the record, it offers relief – a reminder that joy and movement exist alongside depth. With rhythms and melodies that are repetitive, with an arc of progression- It feels like breathing again. There are no lyrics, only vowels are expressed, which suggests a peaceful silence away from words or thoughts carrying so much weight and edge and pain.  

There Are No Angels Born From Filth

An ambient meditation on doubt, this track confronts the fear of unworthiness. It explores the sudden spiral of believing one may never “arrive”-that heaven, transcendence, or redemption might be unreachable. Or simply the fear that a life worth living is somehow ‘not meant’ for you, maybe because of how you were raised, or what environments you were born into, or the separation of class. Essentially however one might be ‘othered’ in their life.

The title challenges purity narratives. It sits in the discomfort of questioning whether one can rise from perceived ruin. Rather than resolving the fear, the piece lets it echo — abstract, dissonant, and searching.

COME TO ME

Closing the album with a reinterpretation and cover of Björk’s ‘Come to Me’ brings the journey full circle. The song’s sensual warmth and maternal undertone feel like a long-awaited embrace.

After conflict, exile, rage, clarity, and doubt, the ending offers tenderness- not from an external savior, but from within. The longing that began the record resolves into self-held comfort. It is the mother’s hug earned that the self earns through continued survival.