Alexander Wren has set out to resurrect the classic American song.

"My artistic lineage is what my father handed me—songs written for the commoner by the commoner. And for the first time, I'm accepting and celebrating these roots," the artist remarks. Hailing from the midwest, then relocating to Nashville, he wanted to blend into the crowd, fitting that sad folk singer stereotype. But things are changing. In the summer of 2023, Alexander released his debut LP, To Whom It May Concern. Addressed to a God, a woman, and an audience unbeknownst to him, the album resembles an artistic Frankenstein—an amalgamation of the best selections from his 550+ song catalog. The result is a peculiar soundscape that feels timeless yet somehow nostalgic—as if it emanated from an entirely unplaceable era. Following this monolith of an independent debut, Alexander partnered with OurVinyl TV to release a live session featuring one-take acoustic versions of the songs from To Whom It May Concern


Now living in the Manhattan borough of New York City, Alexander emphasizes, "Many artists can out-sing me and outplay me, and these same artists even make pumping out exquisite tracks look easy. But when you start to strip away all the smoke and mirrors, you are left only with a song. That is my specialty." This fall, he will release what he deems the start of his sophomore album with singles 'Internal Jukebox' and 'Big Rig Blues.' Both draw from and explore the simplicities of traditional American songcraft: colloquialism, storytelling, and wit, to name a few. These will then be followed by a first for Alexander, a short documentary where he and his 95-year-old friend, Wayne, are starring. With Wayne being a retired Broadway producer and gallery owner, the motion picture strives to capture the joys of friendship, their mutual love for New York City, and the responsibility and inherent mysteries accompanying the creative existence. 


In a world dominated by algorithms, trends, and instant gratification, Alexander is searching for something different. And these days, when he's not at his Wurlitzer electric piano, he mostly wanders the streets of the Upper West Side and drinks decaf at the neighborhood diner.


When you start to strip away all the smoke and mirrors, you are left only with a song. That is my specialty.