Every city has its ghosts. In Los Angeles, they wear Gucci shades and fractured smiles. On Hollywood Forever, DeathbyRomy doesn’t just chase them — she dances with them in the neon graveyard, torch in hand, setting the illusions on fire.
This album isn’t some pre-fab pop dream factory record. It’s a living, breathing confession. Romy peels back the lacquered surface of the City of Angels to reveal the scars underneath. Dropping out, getting devoured, crawling back — her story is etched into every beat, every breath of these 13 tracks. It’s the sound of a dreamer who’s been bruised but refuses to be broken.
You hear it immediately on “LA LA LAND.” It’s a post-modern lullaby for the disenchanted, a cocktail of dirty bass, razorblade rhymes, and aching self-awareness. “Concrete cocaine, fake tits, migraines” — she spits the words like prayers at a broken altar. No judgment, no pity. Just truth.
“YUNG & RICH” is a bar fight with privilege. Romy teams up with Wargasm and bodyimage to blowtorch the fake luxury of the 90210 set. It’s a snot-nosed, stomp-your-boots rebellion against the kids who were handed everything while she clawed for every breath. The rage here isn’t mindless; it’s surgical.
Then there’s “Little Dreamer,” the album’s heart — tender, bruised, but still beating like hell. It’s Romy’s letter to her younger self, to anyone who’s ever been told they dream too much or love too hard. With a smoky vocal that feels both invincible and breakable, she wraps hope and heartbreak into one messy, gorgeous package.
The slow-burn seduction of “Pray To Me,” featuring Palaye Royale, slides in like a late-night fever dream. It’s all obsession and ache, love and lust, faith and fury — the DNA of every great rock ballad laid bare.
But make no mistake: Hollywood Forever isn’t just therapy set to music. It’s a resurrection. Romy doesn’t just tell her story — she owns it. She breaks the cycle, reclaims the narrative, and spits it back into the smog-choked sky with a grin. For every beat of darkness, there’s a counter-beat of defiant joy.
There’s a hunger in these songs, an unapologetic need to live — to scream, to dance, to fall, to rise again. You don’t just listen to this album; you feel it in your bones.
DeathbyRomy doesn’t want your sympathy. She wants your soul on the dancefloor, your middle finger raised to every gatekeeper and leech that ever told you to sit down and shut up. Hollywood Forever is for the freaks, the dreamers, the heartbreakers, and the broken who refuse to stay broken.
This isn’t just a record. It’s a revolution. And Romy? She’s leading the parade, black lipstick smeared, heart wide open, daring the night to try and swallow her again.
Long may she burn.
https://onerpm.link/hollywood-forever
Photo credit – Maytal Etehad
