Review: Paris Paloma — The Fatal Flaw

Paris Paloma
The Fatal Flaw
Plum Tree Music
Street: 09.04.2026
Paris Paloma = Florence + The Machine x Orla Gartland + AURORA

Paris Paloma rose to glory when her 2023 single “labour” spread like a wildfire across the internet —  you probably remember women singing along with her in rage and passion. Paloma now returns with her second album, The Fatal Flaw, which both connects to her roots and extends to new, rich ground. Every track is gorgeously crafted as Paloma explores many facets of relationships — with herself, with art, with society and with other people — all accompanied by thundering drums, shimmering strings and sonorous vocals.

“Miyazaki” instantly gut-punched me with the emotions of being an artist in the current day and age. Referencing Hayao Miyazaki with the title, Paloma expresses her own unshakeable resolve to create. “I’m not a violent person, but I make things with aggression,” she sings. “I’m not a violent person, but my art is one exception. / I won’t let you take it from me.” This hit me so close to home that I had full-on tears running down my face by the time Paloma sang “I do it unpaid, unseen, unthanked. / It’s worth more than anything that I have.” I would like this anthem stamped on my heart, please.

“Rothko” has such an epic slow build that peaks with fanfare-like drums as Paloma sings of seeing love from the outside and longing to feel it as she stands “in front of the Rothko / They say that it makes people cry.” These epic slow builds are a recurring pattern throughout The Fatal Flaw, but they don’t get old. They’re heartstopping every single time.

Paloma continues her established affinity for catharsis with the beseeching “Stem the Flow” and the menacing “Silhouette on the Hill.” She’s not one to shy away from either raw rage or raw pain — nor cinematic imagery. “Bleeding Part of Me” speaks to a desire to be injured in order to then be saved, adding a battle setting of scorched fields, blood and arrows. I love when musicians are able to create such a tangible scene and atmosphere with only sound, and Paloma is a master of this skill.

“Pre-Raphaelite” is an ode to feminine beauty and aesthetic attraction, referencing the muses immortalized in Pre-Raphaelite paintings. Haunting strings and harpsichord underscore the entire song, and now I wish more artists would use harpsichord in their music. This song is a flowing, enchanting reverie that reverberated in my head even after it ended.

“Good Girl” opens with the line, “Heaven is a fed girl,” which leads a repeating chant through the song. Paloma grieves with the line, “For God’s sake, how can I even begin / to clean up the mess of this relationship / with my body.” Paloma expresses that she would chew off her leg to escape the trap of this society, where women go under the knife to become “normal” and “evergreen,” women starve under the pressure to be thin, and women live as objects rather than people doomed to “always look and never be.”

In “Pyrrhus (you go where I cannot),” Paloma sings to the Greek king Pyrrhus of Epirus from the perspective of his mother, Phthia of Epirus. She asks him if all of the bloodshed he wrought was worth it and expresses the pain of a mother watching her child grow up to turn his back on her as he transforms into something terrible. “Good Boy” continues this line of questioning as Paloma sings to the powerful men running the world to the ground. The lyrics call out the fact that men may think they’re free, but they too are collared and chained by this patriarchal society and “working exactly as intended,” to the detriment of themselves and everyone else.

The concluding song, “I Cry in Front of Paintings,” starts a cappella before quiet instruments add one by one, volume building to a crest as Paloma sings, “I cry in front of paintings now / but not the ones I thought.” The cascading harps and angelic vocals leave you wishing the song would go on forever — so there’s a sense of heartbreak when it ends.

The Fatal Flaw has such thematic depth and musical richness that it’s difficult to put into one little review, especially after only a handful of listens. This is music to be savored, not “content” to be consumed thoughtlessly (I’m so tired of people reducing art to “content,” so no wonder “Miyazaki” made me bawl my eyes out). I want to stand in this album for hours and let the music seep into my mind like honey. Maybe this is the essence of The Fatal Flaw: like all art, it’s meant to be basked in and treasured until it becomes a part of your soul. —Rebekah Bowman

Read more reviews by Rebekah Bowman:
Local Review: Kamden Freeman — SEABREAK
Local Review: Jesse Lovelock – Jesse Lovelock and The Velvet Voices

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