
In this interview, we talk with Leah Wrenne, a soul-folk-pop singer-songwriter from Philadelphia. She shares the story of her early connection to music, the importance of mental health, and the powerful link between music and healing. With a voice that soothes like a warm cup of tea and lyrics rooted in vulnerability, Leah blends soul, indie folk, and pop influences into a sound that’s uniquely her own. Her upcoming release, a collaborative track titled Out of Time, is just around the corner.
I’ve read you started your musical journey at just eight years old. Can you share a bit about that early spark and what drew you to music?
Definitely. I would say it really started when I was five years old—that was the first time I got really interested in music. I grew up in a family that was super involved in church, and they were like, “Yeah, everyone’s going to do something,” so we were in the choir. And I loved it. I told my dad at five, “Build me a stage because I’m going to sing,” and he did. I was really determined to do music in some capacity. I loved listening to music, singing music… And then when I was eight, I started struggling a bit with anxiety. It was hard for me to be seen and heard by people, but music gave me a space where I could do that. That’s when I started writing songs.
Your sound blends soul, indie folk, and indie pop. How would you describe your music, and how has your style evolved over the years?
I’d describe my music as kind of like taking the first sip of hot tea on a cold day—it’s soothing. A lot of my songs are just me processing emotions. I’m not writing music thinking, “I want to put this out into the world.” I’m just trying to understand what I’m feeling or thinking. My style has definitely evolved over the years. Growing up, I mostly listened to gospel—that’s what my parents played. I loved the soulfulness of it. Then I got into pop and was drawn to what they were able to do lyrically. I also used to be obsessed with Rascal Flatts! At one point, I told my sister, “Girl, we’re going to be a country duo.” That didn’t happen, but I really loved country music. Then I started listening to The Oh Hellos—they’re this indie folk group with Irish vibes, banjo, violin… just a lot of cool instruments that make you feel like you’re being transported in time. I love that. I also listen to The Paper Kites; I just love how mellow and soothing their music is. For me, folk music is about storytelling. I think a lot of music out there can feel empty—it might have a beat, but it doesn’t say anything. I want to make music that tells a story and has purpose.
Mental health is a big theme in your music. How has your personal journey influenced your decision to speak out about it through your songs?
Yeah. I started struggling with anxiety when I was eight. I didn’t have the words for it—I just knew my heart was racing, I was sweaty, trembling, clammy… I didn’t know it was anxiety, I just felt sick. Later, when I was 11, I began dealing with depression too. Having music as an outlet was really helpful. I eventually went to Temple University to study psychology because I wanted to understand what I was going through. I remember my school guidance counselor actually walked me to the counseling center because I was too scared to go by myself. I didn’t think I needed it—there’s such a stigma around mental health, and I thought getting help meant I was admitting I was struggling. But that really changed my life. I started therapy, and then later medication, and it truly changed my world. I could actually participate in life. Before, I couldn’t even go to the mall or out to eat without being riddled with anxiety. It just wasn’t enjoyable.
What first drew you to Make Music Day? Was it a local event, or did someone invite you to participate?
I think I saw someone on Instagram talking about it—they said you could just sign up and play in different places, and I thought, “That sounds cool.” I really love using my platform as a musician to also talk about mental health. I work for a mental health nonprofit called NAMI—the National Alliance on Mental Illness—and part of what I do is teach youth how to use the feelings wheel to write songs, poems, and raps about their emotions. So when I performed at Make Music Philly, I also handed out flyers. Because it shouldn’t just end with one day—we should be making music forever. Music lets us tell our stories, and our stories deserve to be told.
How was your experience performing at Make Music Day? How did it feel to connect with the community?
It was awesome. I performed at two different places, and it was really cool meeting other musicians. But it was also really great to meet people who didn’t necessarily think of themselves as musicians—they just liked listening to music. It felt special to connect with people based on our shared love of music, even if our tastes or styles were different. I think it’s important not to stay stuck in one genre. Music gives us the chance to experience all kinds of feelings, and I love that. This was my first year participating, and I’m so glad I did.
What’s next for you musically? Any new projects coming up?
Yes! I’m releasing a collaborative song with a friend on April 26th. It’s about procrastinating and feeling paralyzed when you’re overwhelmed. It’s called Out of Time, and it’ll be on all streaming platforms.
Last question—what advice would you give to someone just starting their musical journey?
I would say to just keep going. Just keep going because I think a lot of times I have felt discouraged, for example by things that people have said that were not very kind. I would just say keep going. Ignore the naysayers. You should be in this for you. It’s not about what you can do with it or how far you can get. It’s healing for you. And then, in that way, it can be healing for other people.