Connor Nelson Spirals With Style on “Paranoia”

There's a saying, "I love you." And then there's saying it, hearing silence, and spiraling into emotional chaos. Connor Nelson captures that exact moment. Raw, unsettling, and all too familiar in his latest release, "Paranoia." The track, co-produced with JUNO-nominated producer Nathan Chiu, is a moody, synth-fueled descent into romantic anxiety, laced with glitchy vocals, shimmering darkness, and emotional honesty that cuts like a knife.

The Tsawwassen-born, Vancouver-based artist coined his genre for moments like this: Midnight Pop. It's cinematic, self-aware, and emotionally unfiltered music that doesn't flinch. On "Paranoia," Connor leans into his most vulnerable storytelling yet, facing rejection head-on while letting the production echo the mental spiral that follows.

Built on a bed of pulsing synths and layered vocal distortion, "Paranoia" doesn't just talk about overthinking. It sounds like it. Every beat feels like a heartbeat skipping a beat. Every glitch is a racing thought. The tension is deliberate, relentless, and incredibly relatable.

"Paranoia amplifies the moment when you put your heart out there and don't get the same thing back," Connor explains. "You start spiraling, wondering what changed, replaying every word, every silence. We leaned into that feeling and made it the heartbeat of the song."

It's not heartbreak. It's the aftermath of the psychological torment that turns into questioning your worth, retracing conversations, and trying to decode what went wrong. That inner monologue becomes a storm of sound, and Connor doesn't shy away from it. He weaponizes it.

With "Paranoia," Connor Nelson proves he's not just a pop artist. He's a storyteller with range and intention. His sound is polished, but his emotions are raw and genuine. And that contrast is what makes this track hit harder than your usual break-up song.

If you've ever laid in bed, staring at your phone, replaying every word someone didn't say, this song is for you. And if you haven't yet, play "Paranoia" loud enough, and you'll feel like you have.

“Paranoia” feels incredibly personal. Was there a specific moment or experience that inspired the track?

The song was inspired by an experience I had with unrequited love. I realized, through my partner’s actions, that there was a clear imbalance—I cared more deeply than they did. I never voiced how I felt, and eventually, everything unraveled, just like I described in the song. The twist is that I wrote it from the perspective of actually telling them how I felt, which I never did in real life. It was my way of exploring what could’ve happened if I had spoken up, even knowing the feelings weren’t mutual.

You call your genre “Midnight Pop”—can you explain what that means to you and how it shapes your sound?

I write and produce all my music at night. That’s where “Midnight Pop” came from. Every song I write lives in this space that feels like eternal nighttime—quiet and a little lonely but honest. I started creating at night because I was working three jobs, and it was the only time I had to be with myself. One night, my dad was watching a documentary and told me (according to the documentary) that “during the day, we think and feel with our minds, but at night, we think and feel more with our hearts.” I think that’s why I’m more emotionally open when I write at night—everything clicks together seamlessly.

The production on this track is so immersive. What was the creative process like working with Nathan Chiu?

Thank you! Working with Nathan was a seamless and natural process. I’m grateful to be able to collaborate with someone who not only respects my vision but also brings his unique taste to the table. We’re both super detail-oriented and not afraid to throw everything at the wall—seriously, everything—to see what sticks. I came in with an entirely written song and demo, and Nathan built on that foundation, keeping some of the original elements while layering in his production ideas. Midway through working on it, I realized it needed a bridge—it didn’t have one originally—so I went home and wrote it separately. We ended up finishing “Paranoia,” along with every song on the Red Mountain Light EP, in just three sessions each—about 15 hours total per track. It all came together really quickly.

This track explores rejection and emotional spiraling. How do you personally manage those feelings outside of music?

Great question. I think one thing that helps me is zooming out—remembering that I’m just one tiny molecule on a tiny planet floating in this massive universe. It puts things in perspective. When those heavy feelings arise, I try not to let them overwhelm me. I see them as fuel for the next song, not something to dwell on. Like it’s okay to glance in the rearview mirror, but if you stare too long, you’ll miss the wide-open road in front of you. I’m also fortunate to have an awesome support system of people who remind me of my worth when I forget it. Taking care of my body helps a lot—going to the gym, getting outside, and playing my favorite video games, as well as doing things that reconnect me with myself and feed my soul.

With your debut EP, Red Mountain Light, on the way, what do you want new listeners to know about who you are as an artist right now?

I want people to know that I’m an artist who’s deeply involved in every part of the process—writing, producing, visuals, rollout—everything. I write and co-produce all my songs, and I care a lot about building a world around the music, not just releasing a track or project. I love creating something immersive and tangible—something you can step into. I’m an artist who stays hungry. I’m always looking to grow, challenge myself, and raise the bar with every release. Red Mountain Light is just the beginning.