I have to thank my inexorable attachment to my phone and the apps inhabiting it for paving a path to the most empowered, peculiar, and memorable artists I’ve ever listened to.

Tapping through Instagram stories late one night, pushing away my untouched homework, “Birdsong” by Rosie Lowe flashed across my screen; I continued to mindlessly tap through, seeing snippets of humans, when something pulled me back to the song. To the story that posted this song. Maybe it was the album art, maybe it was the title, or maybe it was the name of the artist that tugged at my attention like a child pulling on their mother’s cardigan.

I acknowledged the attention-grabber and clicked on the song, leading me to Rosie Lowe’s second album titled YU. “Birdsong” ensued, the third track into the 13-song album, and in the first few beats, I was instantly enraptured.

Lowe’s underwater-sounding voice, the funky beats, and the lovely lyricism made for such an enchanting and enthralling opener to this obscure solo artist. The ear-catching chorus where Lowe’s ethereal voice sings “it’s as simple as the sight of you” rang through my mind for days on end–and I was not at all annoyed by it.

My attention, yet again, was captured.

And my attention switched to empowerment when the basement-sounding beats of “Royalty” boomed through my speakers. The melody and rhythms were simple; it was the lyrics that held a profound depth—a profound sense of independence and empowerment—to them.

In her melodically muffled voice, Lowe belts “I wasn’t looking for love, looking for loyalty / no, I’m not looking for love, I’m not your royalty” in the chorus, and that paired with the simplistic yet salient beat was so unbelievably powerful. “Royalty” was only the second song I heard from Lowe—just the dip of the toe into her two-album discography—but I immediately got an overwhelming sense of female empowerment to it.

And I absolutely adored it.

And I adore Lowe’s electro-pop sound that carries through every song. Even if the tone of the song wavers, the funkiness never fades—just one aspect of Lowe I love. In “Mango,” “Valium,” and “ITILY,” the wavy beats and Lowe’s hushed voice move through each song; they’re all soulful songs that rise and swell. But I won’t compare them to the foam of the rolling tide, the peeling of a banana, or the surprising swirl of wind from quickly opening a door.

“Pharoah” goes hard. I’ll just say it straight. The epitome of empowerment, Lowe chants “I have power in my arms, power in my legs, power in my mouth, power in my imperfections that make me” in the chorus, and wow. This song is simultaneously a deep breath and a scream; that seamless juxtaposition is also just wow.

Rosie Lowe is my new icon; I love her lyrics, I love her sound, I love her style, I love her funk, groove and power. I want to live by the words she sings, always, because they are inspiring and uplifting and empowering. Her music packs a powerful punch–not only with the sound but with the lyrics.

If I’ve gathered one thing from Lowe’s lyrics, it’s that women are strong, able, and powerful. Lowe conveys this in every single song, and I will sew her words in my back pocket for whenever I need a reminder that I am strong, and so is every other woman.