“I have something to say,” the opening line of Paris Paloma’s raw, visceral, and powerful sophomore album The Fatal Flaw, is a colossal understatement. It’s unfortunate that portraying a world through the female gaze, glaring down on misogyny, superficiality, and capitalism, is considered radical. Paloma knows that the only way to crumble power structures is to face them head-on, and if that’s radical, then she welcomes the label with open arms.
The Fatal Flaw celebrates art, stuffed to the brim with allusions that cement Paloma’s role at the intersection of pop, intellect, and humanity. The songwriting is adeptly concise and eloquent, often reading more like a short story collection than an LP. It’s resoundingly successful in…

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