There’s something quietly defiant about Sophia Warren. The 21-year-old Austin-based artist makes music that doesn’t scream for your attention—it beckons you in with a whisper, then pulls you under with a gravitational weight that feels entirely her own. With the April 30 release of her sophomore EP Adesso on the horizon, Warren unveils its second single, Grin a scuzzy, guitar-laced meditation on self-doubt and the strange performance of confidence.

Grin at its core is imposter syndrome and self-doubt. The idea that no matter how much effort I put into anything I will never be good enough.

But what begins as a confession quickly builds into something more kinetic—an exorcism of fear, delivered with a clarity that comes not from the absence of doubt but from learning to live with it. The track lurches forward with a grunge-tinged pulse, echoing early-era Hole or even the rawest corners of Sharon Van Etten’s catalogue, as Warren pushes through her own internal noise.

At the heart of Warren’s music is a desire to make the internal external. Adesso—a title that translates to “now” in Italian—feels like an intentional declaration.

It’s about releasing past heartbreaks, finding strength in lessons learned, and embracing who I am. Even when the path is uncertain.

That tension between uncertainty and resilience plays out across the EP, shaped by the atmospheric hand of producer Chris Coady (Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Beach House, TV on the Radio). Coady’s production is lush and immersive, layering hazy synths and spectral strings beneath Warren’s voice, which can both cut through the fog and melt into it.

It’s in that space—where fragility meets force—that Warren’s voice becomes most powerful. You hear it not just in the songs, but in the story behind them. At twelve, she underwent surgery to remove her thyroid after a mysterious illness disrupted her formative years. A thin scar across her throat remains—a quiet symbol of what she’s endured and the voice she nearly lost. 

With Adesso, Sophia Warren isn’t just offering up songs. She’s extending a hand to anyone who’s ever doubted themselves, ever put on a grin to hide the ache underneath. And in doing so, she’s making space for a different kind of confidence—one that’s built not in spite of your scars, but because of them.