Rowan does not make music. Rowan conducts séances.
From a studio in Dublin that smells of old tape machines and rain, she builds corridors of sound — haunted 80s analog warmth crushed beneath doom-weight guitar, synthwave pulse colliding with gothic dark. Her sound is what happens when nostalgia and despair share a room and refuse to leave until they’ve written every song the night has room for. Every track a corridor with no light at the end. Every lyric a thing you felt but couldn’t name.
They call us misfits because we don’t fit their containers. Good. We were never meant to be contained — we were meant to be the fire that shapes new ones.
SEVENTEEN — the debut LP — is a love letter to the years that almost killed us. Ten tracks, each one named after a thing we did at seventeen: the nights we owned, the parking lots we confessed in, the girls we couldn’t save, the drives that felt like the last exit before the world ended. The production merges synthwave nostalgia with gothic metal weight — bright melodies that know exactly how dark the world gets. Casio tones layered under crushing rhythm guitars. Reverb-soaked vocals drifting over blast beats. The sound of a teenage bedroom where the posters on the wall were both a prayer and a warning.
“Saturday Night (We Own the Night)” opens the record with the promise that the next four minutes and fifty-three seconds belong to no one but you. “Mean Girls” is five minutes of fury directed at everyone who made you feel small before you understood that small was a weapon. And the title track — “Seventeen” — closes the album at four minutes and fifty-nine seconds with something that sounds like the last night you were young enough to believe it would always feel this intense, and the first morning you realized it already didn’t.
Rowan’s palette is a theology of violet: deep violet, funeral black, bone-white highlights. Every visual she touches carries the temperature of the moment just after sunset when the sky has not yet committed to night. She joined Misfit Mindset as Creative Director in 2023 — not because the brand needed polishing, but because it needed someone who understood that aesthetics are not decoration. They are architecture. They are armor. And she knows exactly how dark the bones have to be before the light becomes visible.
