Frontwoman Kat Moss talks green eyebrows, Scowl’s cathartic new music and her love of bugs and trash
Until recently, I’d never spoken to someone with green eyebrows. Perhaps that’s a sign that I need to broaden my horizons a bit, or maybe Kat Moss is just bolder than most people I know.
Moss, calling from her bedroom, has hair to match her eyebrows. If you squint, she almost looks like she could have stepped out of a Japanese anime. She’s unapologetically loud, brash, and totally unafraid to speak her mind. In fact, there’s a certain Siouxsie Sioux-like energy about her. An ebullient nature that just makes you want to spend more time with her.
“It actually just comes out of me like this,” she says of her eyebrows, laughing. “It’s a medical anomaly.” She’s naturally a brunette, but she plans to return to her original roots someday. For now, she’s happy to be green.
Unlike her eyebrows, Scowl, the band she fronts, is no longer green to the music industry. Formed in 2019, the band includes Moss, guitarists Malachi Greene and Mikey Bifolco, bassist Bailey Lupo, and drummer Cole Gilbert. After releasing their debut album How Flowers Grow in 2021, Scowl is back with their sophomore effort, Are We All Angels. And yes, before you ask, the title is missing a question mark. That is no accident.
“We were very intentional about leaving out the punctuation,” Moss explains. “It’s both a question and a statement we’re throwing out there. We want the audience to decide how they interpret it.” That sense of open-endedness is something Moss really leans into.
“Lyrically, I’m diving into themes of grief and abuse. Those things are personal, but they also touch on bigger cultural, governmental, and political issues. ‘Are we all angels?’ is this big question—asking others what they bring to the table.”
Throughout the creative process, Moss found herself increasingly fascinated by the idea of angels. Those pure, divine beings supposedly tasked with holy duties by God. But as she digs deeper, she’s left questioning the violence angels often commit on God’s behalf. “It’s a funny dichotomy,” she says, “because angels are supposed to be holy, but they’re often doing violent things for God. What are they really committing? That’s something I want others to explore within themselves.”
On this album, Moss says she’s laid herself bare more than she has in the past. This time around, she feels truly vulnerable. So, I ask her how it feels to expose such raw emotions, to pour her heart into her music and have it dissected by the world.
“I wake up some days with this heavy feeling in my chest,” she says, her voice tinged with something deeper. “But at the same time, I’m excited to perform it—to bring it to life on stage. That’s the beauty of it. I can use metaphor and melody as shields, giving me space to be vulnerable without completely exposing myself.”
A wave of self-reflection passes over Moss as she pauses, her face tightening slightly, eyebrows lowering, and eyes focused. “You know, maybe it would be a cool challenge to write a song that doesn’t convey such intensity.”
Her face softens into a grin. “But I don’t know if Kat Moss can do that,” she laughs with a tinge of self- awareness.
For this record, the band worked with producer Will Yip, who’s known for his work with acts like Turnstile. “Will’s an incredible producer,” Moss says. “He’s like the ultimate hype man, and he has this swagger that I really vibe with. When I walk into the studio, I’m sweating, and he made so much space for me to just be bad. It felt like permission to experiment.”
In terms of visuals, Scowl had a very specific aesthetic in mind. What they ended up with is a blend of two things that were swirling in Moss’ mind during the creative process: bugs and angels. “I wanted to find a way to bridge the gap between these two ideas,” she says. “I think this album captures that fusion.”
Moss is always accompanied by a Pinterest board for inspiration, though she has increasingly found herself trying to pull back from spending too much time online. “I’ve started going outside more, picking up trash,” she says with a hint of seriousness. I’m not sure whether to take her literally.
“Really?” I ask, unsure as to whether she is being serious or not.
“Oh yeah. I collect rocks, shells, and—yeah—trash. My handbags are full of it,” she carelessly admits to my amusement.
As for what the rest of the year holds for Scowl, Moss quickly says: “Tour. We’ll be playing shows in the U.S., Europe, and elsewhere.” The way she said the word ‘elsewhere’ leads me to believe there is more to the story than Moss is letting on.
“Is Australia included in that?” I inquire.
She winks in response. Make of that what you will.
Are We All Angels drops on April 4, 2025, via Dead Oceans. You can pre-save the album here.
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