In the ruins of Los Angeles glitter – where stars collapse quietly behind tinted glass and dreams are chewed into twinkling pulp – DeathbyRomy has carved out a shrine. Her name, whispered like an invocation in the basements of dark-pop and the cathedrals of underground fashion, rings louder than ever with the release of her latest offering: HOLLYWOOD FOREVER.

It’s not just an album. It’s a reckoning, a reclamation of her independence as an artist.

“I’ve been writing songs since I was five. Raised by music lovers, I was musical from birth… the first time I saw Hannah Montana, I instantly knew what I wanted to do with my life and my dream never shifted.”

Even in her introduction, there’s a kind of beautiful dissonance – the innocence of childhood awe rubbing up against a catalog of songs that roar like a battle cry from the edge of oblivion. That tension forms the marrow of HOLLYWOOD FOREVER, a record as seductive as it is scathing, dancing on a knife’s edge between fantasy and fury.

At its heart stands “The Manager,” the album’s cover character – a grotesque idol of greed, consumerism, and those who sink their fangs into young artists under the guise of mentorship.

“The character on the cover is called ‘The Manager.’ The character embodies greed, consumerism, and the all the terrible men and women in this industry who prey on and take advantage of young artists with a dream. I was manipulated and used by my first manager, this album tells a very deep story that took place between when I was first discovered and where I am now.”

To listen to this album is to walk that razor-straight line between pain and euphoria, between being preyed upon and rising to prowl.

Sonically, Romy describes her music with a wink: “Heavy electronic pop music… Listen to ‘little dreamer’ or ‘xxxhibitionist‘ first.” But HOLLYWOOD FOREVER is more than a genre. It’s emotional architecture – crumbling churches of synth, neon alleys of bass, lyrics sharpened into blades.

From “LA LA LAND“‘s venom-laced critique on Los Angeles’ serpentine glamour, to “PRAY TO ME“‘s gothic swoon of haunted devotion, to “YUNG & RICH“‘s scream-drenched takedown of inherited excess, this is Romy at her most operatic. Her voice – sometimes shattered glass, sometimes whispered confession – commands with the grace of someone who no longer seeks permission.

“I’ve not needed anyone’s permission for anything for years now. The most rewarding part of this freedom is the fact that it’s worked. My music has never been bigger and that’s all thanks to me, trusting and listening to myself only.”

Yet independence, like all revolutions, carries cost.

“Honestly just the funding aspect. The creation process flowed freely and with ease. I was very lucky to have signed with OneRPM for this album, they helped with funding the whole roll out. However, I fund my tours on my own, and pulling off this headline had me and my whole team losing our minds.”

Behind every velvet lyric is a woman running her own machine – one hand on the mic, the other dialing logistics, coordinating visuals, planning flights. This is pop music stitched from torn couture and second chances. And when asked for her personal favorite on the record, Romy doesn’t hesitate.

“‘Little Dreamer!’ It feels like an accurate embodiment of what pop music from me should sound like. It’s so fucking catchy. We put crack in that one.”

Beneath the smirk lies sincerity. This album is a love letter to herself – the past self, clawing through contract chains and manipulation, and the present one, howling freely into the night.

“I just hope this album feels like a cathartic and euphoric release for the listener, like it was for me to write and complete it.”

For what feeds the beast? Where does Romy’s shadow-lit inspiration grow?

“I feel most inspired when I’m alone. My mind is a wonderful, colorful and terrifying place. It’s actually hard to just tune in and listen to it unless I’m alone. I find planes, or that place you lie between wake and sleep to be the most inspiring.

And the future? Like any oracle, Romy doesn’t blink – she only strides forward.

“Well… Next, we’re coming to Europe TWICE… My friends can expect me to never stop. What I give to them they give right back to me, and I owe them for life.”

If HOLLYWOOD FOREVER is a funeral for the old Romy – the managed, the manipulated, the girl told to dim her shine – it’s also a rebirth. A resurrection lit by synth fire and rebellion. She doesn’t just haunt the pop landscape now – she owns her place in it.

And the underground? It follows.

“I think because of the underground, pop music has been given permission to be cooler than it’s ever been. That’s what I hope for at least.”

Catch her while you can – DeathbyRomy is on tour now, bringing her sonic exorcism to select cities in Europe after completing an expansive North American run. Come dressed for catharsis. Come ready to howl.

Because in Romy’s world, the ghosts of Hollywood don’t rest. They rage – beautifully.