Nights like this always come back to me—the throb of a club floor under my boots, the taste of whiskey still sharp on my tongue, and that look I throw at a guy when he tries to test me. I know how I like it, and I’m not afraid to let anyone know; that honesty is the kink, and I live for the reaction. Estella Dawn’s ‘I Like It Rough’ soundtracks it—the chaos, the heat, the messy grin you wear as you’re grasping someone’s hair and pulling them down. It’s dark, dirty alt-pop with its nails dug in, and it makes me want to leave the lights low and the volume loud until my head spins.
She lays it out from the jump: “Mommy’s little rockstar, black leather jacket, with the Dr Martens, eight eyed.” I picture myself strutting out of a bar in boots like that, mascara smudged, middle finger raised, daring anyone to push back. Estella doesn’t polish herself down for anyone. Biting, scratching, turning her flaws into flexes—that’s her style. “Got a couple bad habits, take a look at my regrets.” The line lands because I feel it—I’ve got my own catalogue of bad habits, the men, the drinks, the aggression that both bring out in me. They’re fuckups, but they’re mine, and hearing her spit it makes me want to embrace them instead of hiding them.
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Her delivery is venom and velvet all at once. When she snarls, “Give me something to bite on, something I can respect,” you hear the force of someone who knows she’ll get it. That’s sex with teeth marks, figuratively and literally, the kind that leaves you wrecked and grinning. It’s a challenge for for anyone to push back, to try and tame her, even though she’s untamable. “If I look bored you know what’s coming next, I’m a very busy woman, Imma exit stage left.” Savage! The kind of clap back that leaves a man staring at the door she just slammed in his face.
Born in New Zealand, now tearing it up in San Diego, Estella isn’t waiting for anyone to hand her a throne. She writes, records, and produces everything herself—pop, soul, hip-hop, rock, all bleeding into each other. Her catalog already has over seven million streams this year, with tracks like ‘514 Denim’ and ‘Locked In’ proving she doesn’t miss. She’s building a body count in hits that rivals anyone trying to box her in.
The chorus claws at you: “I like it rough, the more you tear me down, the more it hypes me up.” That’s the heart of it—pain turned to pleasure, hate flipped into fuel. She doesn’t rush it; the production lingers, giving her space to sneer the words before the beat drops back in. You can almost hear the crowd in her head, booing, judging, and her voice cutting back louder, sexier, stronger. It’s the sound of a woman who thrives on your doubt. Every stomp against her feels like bass under her feet, rattling long after the line lands.
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And then she twists the knife deeper: “Please, tell me how ugly that you think I am, how many rules I used my body to bend.” That’s the kind of line that shuts a room up. She knows the whispers, the slut-shaming, the side-eye from people pressed about how much attention she gets. Instead of shrinking, she spits it back in your face and smirks through the sting. There’s nothing mid about it—she slays because she flips the insults into fuel and throws them back harder. The delivery feels drawn out, letting the venom seep in before she moves on.
When she belts “Cuz I am iron woman, catch me in the sky like a jet plane,” it’s bigger than the bedroom. It’s survival, rebellion, revenge, and yeah—it’s hot as fuck. The arrangement lifts, airier but still sharp, making the line feel like both a warning and a victory lap. That mix of dominance and vulnerability is girlboss energy and a power fantasy in stiletto boots colliding, and she’s savoring it.
Estella Dawn is a woman getting it – all of it – exactly the way she wants it. She’s kicking through the glass ceiling, leaving shards behind, bleeding confidence for the next girl. ‘I Like It Rough’ is the soundtrack to drinking too much, kissing whoever you feel like, and raising eyebrows and breaking hearts while you’re at it. It’s dirty, it’s defiant, and she does it her way all along. Rough.
