fen., project of 24-year-old singer-songwriter Adrian Gibowski, explores the journey of growing up, human relationships, and emotions through heartfelt, deeply human alt-pop music.

Growing up in a small town in northwest Germany, fen.’s musical journey began at a young age as he learned to play various types of guitars and immersed himself in the nuances of fingerstyle sound. From the very beginning, he turned personal experiences and observations into music, using it as a form of inner dialogue that gives space to the unspoken.

Raw and grainy, fen. draws inspiration from artists like Jeremy Zucker, Charlie Burg, and the band Pinegrove. His music is a conversation between vulnerability and growth, blending his small-town roots with the emotional depth he has explored through years of traveling, songwriting, and producing. Through his heartfelt alt-pop, fen. offers an open ear for those navigating through the complexities of relationships, emotions, and the path to adulthood.

Some years don’t break in half. They unravel slowly, thread by thread, until you barely notice you’re holding on to something that’s almost gone.

For singer-songwriter fen. (Adrian Gibowski), The Product Of Growing Up was born in the winding paths of his early twenties — when rooms felt too empty, familiar faces faded, and the road ahead blurred. For three years, he left more places than he could ever arrive at: another sublet flat, another flight booked in secret, no one waiting on the other side.

These six songs are the map he brought back. They chart the space between closeness and absence, the ache of words left unsaid, the fragile warmth of people who almost mattered, and the joy of creating something that is not temporary.

Produced alongside Jonathan Bourdick and Joe Styppa, the EP balances gentle melodies & exotic sounds with moments of raw honesty. Each track feels lived-in — carrying the dust, light, and weight of real memories.

The Product Of Growing Up doesn’t pretend that change is clean or simple. It gathers the mess, the stillness, the small sparks that keep you moving — and leaves them in your hands, to see what you might make of them.

"Dream on…"