The spiritual vision of Brennan Wedl

Brennan Wedl loves supervoids; they’re not easily definable, but evocative and true. “It’s the absence of what we are taught to learn, or socialised to think is there,” she says. For some, God - or music, or love - can feel like a supervoid. On her self-titled second LP, the Nashville-based singer-songwriter is anchoring themself in the supervoid we call life, despite all its ambiguity.

Wedl has lived several musical lives - a DIY punk rocker, a folksy acoustic strummer, and a pioneer of the newly coined “grungtry” subgenre (you do the math). She grew up on “rambly, talky singers,” like Bob Dylan and Tom Waits... and Ingrid Michaelson. “At that age, in middle school, I was like, ‘These older dudes can do this. Ingrid Michaelson can do it. I’m clocking Taylor Swift doing this. I can do it!’”

On our call, she proudly holds up a CD that is sitting beside her computer. The cover is a pop art image of a tweenage Wedl, and I’m looking at her first solo project. “My dad would harmonize a lot and just sing along to the radio,” she says, exposing her to music at an early age. “I remember a lot of harmonies to Rush.” All fathers are the same, evidently. 

Wedl was raised in Minnesota by a devout Catholic family. “I grew up going to a convent quite often because I had some family members that were nuns. One is still cooking up there - she’s doing good,” she laughs. “They were always singing acapella in very echoey rooms, so it was very dramatic.” Wedl was fascinated by the use of music as a storytelling device - to connect people to past versions of themselves, their audiences, and in some cases, a higher power.

Religion remains a big part of Wedl’s life, in her “own special flavour.” “I just love the theatrics of the Catholic Mass, and so I, kind of, apply that to my own spiritual practices,” she says, on finding God in candles and tarot cards. Wedl’s first solo record, Holy Water Branch, explores her relationship with religion through classical guitar picking and confessional lyricism. “My heart was very exposed, and I was just feeling it all,” she says.

In college, Wedl’s music was much less pious. While studying at Berklee College of Music in 2016, she formed queercore band Dazey and the Scouts with classmates Lea Jaffe, Otto Klamer, and Austin Corona. Wedl wistfully reflects on her time in Boston, when she was 18 and always curious. “It was a very creative, explorative time, and we were all experiencing that,” she says. “And to be in a band with no plan besides writing songs and playing shows - there was no pressure for it to be anything but what it was.”

Dazey and the Scouts’ first and only mini-record, Maggot, is unbridled, angsty, and absolutely magical. Raunchy glam rock anthem “Wet” did numbers on TikTok in 2021 - three years after the band quietly disbanded. Still, some of Wedl’s fondest memories were spent performing with the Scouts and their outlandish stage props - an animatronic Mrs. Claus with fishnets and loads of fake blood.

In 2019, Wedl moved to Nashville after graduating college. “I came to the conclusion that songwriters go to Nashville,” she says. And she was correct. “You always have a shorthand with people … you’re like, ‘How’s the writing going?’” Wedl released Holy Ghost Water that same year, then EP Sleeping With Jeans On in 2021.

“It was deep COVID-y times, and I just wasn’t really talking to a lot of people,” Wedl says. “We were just in our social bubbles of quarantine - and [Sleeping With Jeans On] was my testament to Miss COVID. That bitch!” She leans into themes of yearning and nostalgia, citing Gillian Welch and David Rawlings as influences.

First track, “I Wanna Be Your TV,” is one of four songs that have been re-recorded for Wedl’s upcoming record. The song is light and airy musically, with lyrics that teeter between romantic and obsessive: ‘Oh honey we can be so carefree / Sittin’ round just you and me / Turn me on, and you’ll see.’

The desire to be someone’s TV is like the desire to crawl inside their skin. Sometimes, love is so overwhelming that nothing else will do. “There have been times when I’ve wanted to be with someone so much that I would be like - I didn’t say this to them, but just pondering in my journal - what if I was the TV at their apartment, and could be there all the time,” Wedl says.

In 2024, Lindsay Jordan (Snail Mail) shared “I Wanna Be Your TV” with Katie Crutchfield of Waxahatchee, which led to a Substack shoutout and a serendipitous creative partnership. Crutchfield and Brad Cook (Hurray For The Riff Raff, Suki Waterhouse) co-produced Wedl’s upcoming record and Jordan played guitar on a few tracks. “[Crutchfield] and [Cook] have such a refined shorthand with each other,” Wedl says. “We were so creatively energised to make something together, and the collaborative energy was just so fun and uncomplicated.”

The other songs Wedl re-recorded for the album are “Two Dollar Pistol,” “Fake Cowboy,” and “Scorpio” - my personal favourite. “Scorpio” is a gritty, satisfying earworm, reminiscent of Liz Phair’s “Fuck And Run”. ‘Sock it to me / Say it nice and slow,’ Wedl proclaims in the chorus, over twangy guitar licks and cowbell.

In a 2024 Stereogum article, Wedl promised that these singles wouldn’t appear on her next record. When I mention it, she giggles playfully, caught red-handed. “I think at that time in my life, I was only seeing, like, three months ahead because everything was changing so quickly,” Wedl says. “... The standalone single versions are always going to be there, and I love them - it’s a real snapshot of who I was at the time. But these re-recorded ones, I wanted them to live in a group of songs and not just be stranded forever on the single side.” The re-recordings reflect Wedl’s maturation as an artist, living in the context of her self-titled world.

In lead single “Pretty Little Fantasy,” Wedl properly reintroduces herself. ‘I’m not your girl / I’m a freakazoid,’ she howls defiantly. Gender is a major theme on this record - the experience of feeling like a woman, sometimes. “Using she/they pronouns in my life right now, and using that as a vehicle in my songwriting and spiritual practices, has unlocked my heart,” Wedl says. “It’s unlocked my mind, and has just allowed me to heal.”

Wedl regards Prince as her “gender north star.” She sings the lyrics to “I Would Die 4 U” aloud: ‘I’m not a woman, I’m not a man / I am something that you’ll never understand.’ In the past, Wedl has felt pressure to name her gender identity. She has since realised that gender is an ever-evolving process - something that doesn’t need to be settled upon. “I think how we live day-to-day is gender expression,” they summarise.

Seventh track “Let’s Be Models,” is a summery girlhood anthem with 2000s Sheryl Crow flair. Originally, Wedl wrote the song to be around a minute long - with a 45-second punk version for live shows. “I wanted to write a short, catchy song that you want to replay right away because it’s so short,” she says. She’s since re-worked the choruses and added a third verse. The song's music video is a whimsical portrait of a perfect day with friends. “The girls are getting ready, we’re going to the mall, we’re going to get slushies,” Wedl says. “I wanted the music video to reflect the quick editing of an iconic movie montage.”

Crutchfield and Cook helped Wedl hone her vision for the record - one that combines her acoustic singer-songwriter roots and the rockstar she has become. “Both are so true to me, like loud guitars, distortion, big amps. And also, like, hushed, introspective fingerpicking on acoustic…,” she says. “So I brought that to [Crutchfield], and she was like, ‘There’s no reason that we can’t do both.’” They put together a reference playlist (“solid rock [songs] with good lyrics and interesting vocals”) - with plenty of PJ Harvey, The Breeders, and Courtney Love.

Wedl describes working with Crutchfield and Cook as “record-making school.” “They were teachers to me in the way of, like, ‘Humans are imperfect. Let’s make a perfectly imperfect album,’” she says. The “mutual music love” shared between Wedl, Crutchfield, and Cook is apparent on this record - one that arranges years of work into an earnest story of becoming.

As she anticipates the release of her second record, Wedl is “figuring out how to make the days count” at home in Nashville. “I’ve been reconnecting with friends, raking out my journal, going on dates with my boyfriend, and just trying to do life stuff,” she says. This summer is sacred for Wedl, bookended by travelling and tour dates. In the spring, she toured with Crutchfield and MJ Lenderman, and in September, she’ll join Jordan for the “Snail Mommy” tour with Soccer Mommy before a series of headline dates.