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Emerging UK pop artist Mauro Brenner is an 18-year-old singer-songwriter from Winchester whose music blends pop-rock hooks with confessional storytelling. His debut single, “No Bad Blood,” introduces his approach to songwriting: bright, guitar-led pop rooted in the experiences and emotions of late adolescence.
The track centres on an unexpected encounter with an ex during a night out he nearly skipped. Rather than revisiting old conflict, the moment becomes a reflection of personal growth, with the song framing closure as something calm and even humorous. With its upbeat tempo and chantable chorus, “No Bad Blood” positions forgiveness and moving forward as its core themes.
As Brenner begins releasing music in 2026, his writing draws from a range of pop and pop-rock influences across different eras. In the latest edition of Stereo Six, he highlights six albums that helped shape his songwriting instincts, from the confessional pop of Olivia Rodrigo and Taylor Swift to British guitar-pop acts like The Vamps and McFly, alongside chart-pop staples from Pixie Lott and the Spice Girls.
Mauro Brenner ‘No Bad Blood’ Single Artwork
1. Olivia Rodrigo – GUTS (2023, Geffen Records)
“GUTS was the first album that made me want to take songwriting seriously. Every time I listen to it, it takes me straight back to starting sixth form at sixteen and playing it from start to finish when it first came out. What I love most is the emotional whiplash, going from the self-aware chaos of all-american bitch to the frustration of a ballad of a homeschooled girl, and then landing somewhere reflective with pretty isn’t pretty and teenage dream. It feels messy in the most honest way.
Sonically, the punchy drums and sharp guitars feel raw without ever sounding dated. The way Olivia blends confessional lyrics with a rock-leaning pop production is something I’m really inspired by in my own music. Seeing it live at The O2 in London on the GUTS World Tour in 2024 made it hit even harder — it proved she’s far rockier than people sometimes give her credit for.”
2. Taylor Swift – Fearless (2008, Big Machine Records)
“A lot of the Fearless songs had a resurgence on TikTok during lockdown, which is probably where I first properly heard them, especially around the time Taylor released Fearless (Taylor’s Version) in 2021. Knowing she was only 17 or 18 when she wrote it makes it even more impressive. The way she takes really ordinary teenage moments and makes them feel cinematic is something that’s always stuck with me. Even though it’s branded as a country album, the pop structure is so clear, simple verses, massive choruses, and that’s what makes it timeless.
That idea of turning small-town stories into something universal really shaped how I write. A lot of my songs lean into specific nights, specific places, specific people, but told in a way that hopefully feels bigger than just my own experience. Fearless showed me that confessional songwriting doesn’t have to be complicated, it just has to be honest.
I somehow managed to get a ticket to the Eras Tour in 2024, and one of the surprise songs that night was “Change,” which felt full-circle. The chorus still hits: “Because these things will change / Can you feel it now?”
It perfectly sums up that mid-to-late teenage feeling, frustrated but hopeful at the same time. I didn’t have the best view for the surprise set, but after queuing for hours, I got barrier for the main show… and I’m still convinced she waved at me during “22”!”
3. The Vamps – Meet The Vamps (2014, Mercury Records)
Meet The Vamps was one of the first albums I ever owned when I was about seven, and if I’m honest, I never really grew out of being a Vampion. Even now, I still think it holds up as one of the best pop albums of that era. Acoustic guitar-driven pop tends to age well, and this record is no exception. Of course, parts of it are very 2014, but that almost adds to the charm. For me, it’s everything a good pop album should be, catchy hooks, strong melodies, clean structures, and, most importantly, a chantable chorus.
I’ve seen The Vamps twice, first at Kew The Music in 2023, just after finishing my GCSEs, which felt like a coming-of-age moment in itself. By then, the band were in their late twenties, no longer the wide-eyed teenagers from the album cover, but the songs still landed the same. I saw them again on the Meet The Vamps 10th Anniversary Tour in Bournemouth, and it really proved something to me. Yes, they were often overshadowed by One Direction, and they might never have another number one, but their fanbase shows up every time. That taught me that a loyal audience is far more powerful than vanity metrics, it’s the people in the room who matter.”
4. McFly – Room on the 3rd Floor (2004, Island Records)
“The next natural step after The Vamps was to go one stage back in the British pop-rock pipeline and land on McFly. I like to think I can look at albums that came out before I was born and take a slightly more objective view, and to me, there’s something really charming about Room on the 3rd Floor. It’s playful, it doesn’t take itself too seriously, and it feels unmistakably British in tone — even if there are slightly cheesy lyrics about surfing and LA, as though most of it wasn’t written in a rainy London hotel room.
Though “Saturday Night” is an interesting one. Lines like, “And if you wanna have a drink / There’s some bottles by the sink,” capture something very specific about teenage British house parties. Ask most sixth formers what song defines that environment, and you’ll probably hear “Mr Brightside” or “I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor,” not McFly, which makes sense culturally. But there’s something understated about how “Saturday Night” frames it, less mythologised, more matter-of-fact. It feels closer to the slightly awkward, fluorescent-lit reality of it all.
There’s a lot I try to take from McFly’s songwriting into my own music. Be a bit cheeky. Don’t be too full of yourself. Don’t try too hard to be cool, because artists who try to be cool usually end up having the opposite effect. I’ve always thought it’s slightly unfair that McFly weren’t taken that seriously when they first broke through. In hindsight, “Five Colours in Her Hair” has aged far better than a lot of the indie guitar bands who turned their noses up at them.”
5. Pixie Lott – Turn It Up (2009, Mercury Records)
Okay, pure recession pop territory, or so you’d think. Yes, a lot of this album screams prime-time television, Cheryl Cole on The X Factor, financial crash-era Britain. But dig a little deeper, and you hear the 1960s undertones woven into infectious pop production. It’s glossy and confident, but it’s built on proper songwriting. It proves that not everything has to be overly confessional to feel personal. Sometimes sharp lines and strong melodies do the work just as well:
“I get your emails, you just don’t get females, now do you?” (Cry Me Out)
There’s an attitude there, but it’s playful. That balance really stuck with me. Turn It Up is probably the closest to my own lane, a young British solo artist holding their own in the pop space, finding that sweet spot between heartfelt and chart-friendly. Maybe it’s not completely timeless in a critical sense, but it captures a moment so well that it almost doesn’t matter. And if a pop record can soundtrack a specific time in people’s lives like that, then it’s done its job.”
6. Spice Girls – Spice (1996, Virgin Records)
Ginger, Baby, Sporty, Scary and Posh aren’t usually thought of as “album artists”, and yes, undeniably, the Spice Girls are more cultural icons than revered songwriters. On paper, Spice is the bubblegum pop translation of platform boots, Union Jack dresses and “girl power” slogans, packaged neatly for the late-90s British high street to stand out like a sore thumb next to the brooding Britpop albums of its day.
Get past the branding exercises, though, and this is a ruthlessly efficient pop album. Just under forty minutes, ten songs, no indulgence. It’s a reminder that sugary pop can easily overstay its welcome, like eating too much chocolate and immediately regretting it. Spice knows exactly when to stop.
I won’t pretend that this is some confessional masterpiece. This isn’t Swiftian diarism or indie poetry. But that almost misses the point. Spice works because it understands pop as theatre. Each member is a caricature, yes, but also instantly legible. The songs don’t strain for credibility; they aim for clarity. Hooks first, meaning second.
There’s also something distinctly British about it. Beneath the gloss, they feel less like untouchable pop deities and more like five personalities you might overhear in the corner of a pub: loud, opinionated, slightly chaotic. That accessibility, that lack of mystique, is arguably what made them so effective. Modern pop can often feel hyper-curated, globally neutral, sanded down to fit every algorithm. Spice is very much of its place and time, unapologetically so.
As someone who leans towards more confessional writing, I’m aware my instinct is often to over-explain a feeling. Spice is a useful counterpoint. It reminds me that sometimes directness is more powerful than depth, that character can be as important as vulnerability, and that a well-constructed chorus with a clear point of view can cut through just as effectively as any diary entry.
Sometimes a chorus and a point of view really will do. “I wanna really, really, really wanna zigazig-ah.” (Wannabe)