Enzo Nebula Searches the Stars for Something Real on “Galaxy of Ours”

New York City dance-pop artist Enzo Nebula returns with “Galaxy of Ours,” a self-produced single that transforms questions about love, loneliness, and destiny into a vibrant Y2K-inspired dance track. Released August 28 alongside a music video created with longtime collaborator Marcelo of Veemagic Productions, the single follows Nebula’s breakout release “Desire,” which earned radio play across Europe and South America and is now finding its way onto club dance floors in New York City.

There is something strangely intimate about looking into an impossibly large universe and wondering whether one specific person is somewhere inside it. Nebula turns that childhood thought into glittering escapism, blending late-’90s and early-2000s European techno influences with a deeply personal story about searching for a soulmate.

Written on the subway and produced from his living room, “Galaxy of Ours” explores the uncertainty of never knowing whether the person you are meant to find is actually out there. Beneath its euphoric electronic production are questions about worth, connection, and whether two people can somehow find each other across an impossibly large universe.

The track also introduces Nebula’s philosophy of “productive delusion," the belief that sometimes you have to believe something extraordinary is possible before you can achieve it. That idea is central to his artistic identity and his music “for aliens,” which transforms the experience of feeling misunderstood into a celebration of individuality.

The song’s creation was equally personal. After initially mastering what he thought was the finished track, Nebula returned to it after a vacation and ultimately remixed it from the ground up, determined to capture the exact feeling he experienced while looking at the stars.

Visually, the accompanying video expands the concept into an abstract Y2K cosmic universe. As Nebula continues to hear his music played in New York clubs, “Galaxy of Ours” feels like a fitting evolution: a song about searching for connection that is increasingly finding its audience.

“Galaxy of Ours” comes from a question you have carried since childhood about whether your person is somewhere out there. How did you translate something so personal and existential into a dance-pop record?

My creative process is about finding empowerment in discomfort. When I let myself sit with the things that make me uncomfortable, I like to turn those feelings into something beautiful… and a dance-pop song felt like the right place for that to live. Vulnerability is powerful. I think we can all relate to that sense of relief when we finally face something head-on instead of pushing it away.

You describe your creative philosophy as “productive delusion.” How has believing in seemingly impossible outcomes shaped the way you approach your music and career?

I first learned the power of delusion as a kid, making music just for fun and posting it all over the place online. I decided for myself that I was a music artist, and I didn’t give myself time to worry about what people would think. Somehow that led to my music being played in clubs in Brazil. That experience taught me that when you put yourself out there, magical things can happen. As of now, my music is playing on radio stations across Europe and South America… and that’s all thanks to being delusional. The world likes to stay rigid in its thinking, so I create the space to let myself exist too.

You initially had the song mastered before deciding to go back and remix it entirely. What were you hearing that felt wrong, and what finally made the finished version feel complete?

When I listened to the song after coming back from vacation, I found myself obsessively stuck on a ‘muddy’ part of the chorus. My focus was completely hijacked from enjoying the song because of how “off” this part felt. That, plus all the processing on my vocals, was all I could think about, so I had no choice but to go back and change everything. I stripped a lot away and felt so much relief. But it’s the panning details that really gave the song a life of its own. I was back to the feeling of relief! It’s really important to me to have the sound feel like the vision. 

Your music is made “for aliens,” especially people who have felt misunderstood or out of place. When did alien imagery become the clearest way for you to express that part of yourself?

I remember growing up with a little book about aliens and the universe, and I thought it was so cool that there was a possibility of beings out there we know nothing about. I felt that way about myself too… I often wondered if there were other people out there like me. For people who don’t really know where they fit in. Looking up at the stars at night with these feelings, it just felt like the most natural, obvious creative path for me.

Enzo Nebula actually started out as a 3D modeling character I created for myself during lockdown in 2020, and that character was already deep into celestial, outer-space themes. Eventually I realized I was channeling my own reality through it, so I adapted the name for myself and let myself and my music exist visually instead.

After hearing your music played in clubs in Brazil, you are now getting messages from friends hearing your songs in New York City clubs. What does it feel like to watch music made in your living room physically enter the nightlife around you?

When it happened again last weekend, I was speechless. I heard about it at 1 am, and I didn’t know what to do with myself… I just let myself feel it, the excitement and the tears. I still haven’t experienced it in person, but when that day comes, I don’t think I’ll be able to hold it together. Before, I don’t think I fully processed what it meant that my songs were playing in clubs in Brazil. Now that it has happened here in New York City, I appreciate it so much more.