by Leslie Galvan-Torres

Music connects all things whether it be someone singing, a piece they wrote and performed, or the little happy sounds of a plant next to your window sill. Music is embedded within us for expression, or if you are that plant, simply just existing. Today we shall discuss an artist rooting for social change with her voice and metaphors hidden underneath the tales and loops of words along with her visuals in a select few music videos which speak to her larger work. Although at face value they may already seem interesting, my goal is analyze Paris Paloma’s art of expression for all to understand the mastery she has over her craft.

Paris Paloma is an English singer-songwriter and guitarist who began a rise to international attention with her 2023 single “Labour” and whose debut album “Cacaphony” was released in 2024.  She credits Florence + the Machine, Grimes, AURORA and, in particular, Hozier as “massive” influences on her wordplay and storytelling, and will embark on a 15-city tour of the US in 2025.  What follows is an analysis of Paloma’s music and lyrics in their relation to the female “voice,” also embodied in her powerful music videos, three of which are highlighted here.   

Video one: “As Good a Reason”

Visually, the video for the song is simple black, white, and red beginning with a catchy tune. Paloma sits in front of an older woman in red lipstick questioning her about her success, claiming her face was “lined like spiderwebs,” referring to how she is basically a red herring for the opposite sex and how easily she can have her prey lured into a sticky situation. Paloma asks, “How can you be so in love with yourself?” The screen flashes women’s faces with eyes covered with a red light responding to the question. Success for a woman is an old man seething, leaving spite as good a reason to take his power. She continues, stating that hating your own body is letting that very man win as he counts his riches dropping a bit of rage into his wine as poison in his drink, although Paloma sings, “but be damn sure you don’t mix it up with mine.” Alluding to supporting each other as women, building each other up instead of thinking of ourselves as competition, division within the same group will always line the old man’s pockets full of cash as he sits in his ivory tower.

The first time I heard this song, it came to me as a slowly building rage realizing that every action is the result of the culture women have to grow up in, instilled into our very bones, and stirred a reflection on my own actions. It’s no different despite believing that what I do is by my own free will. I still have such a toxic influence in my actions. I still try to abide by the rules of the game this society has built from the very beginning, those old rules that no longer correlate to me. As a barely forming generation, the new thing for us now is independence and newfound power. It wasn’t long ago that we never had the privilege to develop our own opinions in fear of being relegated as “hysterical” or being severely critiqued by the opposite sex. Although back then they might have had the stream running in circles, women today have managed to carve the earth towards a new direction.

Video two: “Labour”

Labour is one of Paloma’s most famous songs, and her breakout single from 2024, going viral for its heavy visuals and simple, lyrical meaning about the work women have done throughout many lives as mothers, maids, and objects for trophies. The music video begins immediately revealing a man sitting down at a table and Paloma placing the final dish of the feast onto the table.  She leaves, setting down a pie, panning to the man’s empty plate before setting down another pot. Sitting down from across the table she begins to light a candle singing, “If our love died would that be the worst thing?”

Again, the camera moves back to the man’s empty plate before sliding across, above them revealing the several plates she had prepared for him doubling down on her role in the video. Her husband now piles his plate with food as she sits there and waits clearly frustrated and annoyed about the behavior he is exhibiting – he eating freely and as he wishes, while Paloma’s lyrics describe the standard between men and women from obedience to authority.  Paloma’s voice soars, speaking to the “weaponi(zation)” of “false incompetence, its dominance under a guise,” as he continues to eat making eye contact.   For me, this visualizes how much the man at the table truly is taking from her, as Paloma simply sits there unable to handle the audacity, yet still managing to show restraint, as women of the era (and too often in ours) are not allowed to express distaste or discomfort. All around them are candles which I believe express the balance of chaotic life in their home together. The risk of simply walking past could easily set flame to anything near, as it is easy to set a flame the man’s anger in the video. In the beginning Paloma had lit one single candle from another beside her before setting it down on a candle holder symbolizing how she would ignite a strong feeling: anger. The man in the video then messes with his wedding ring, which Paloma in turn does as well, as if contemplating the marriage – but the difference is he believes he has her on a leash from which she can’t escape. Moving closer to the video’s end, the man is finished with his meal and taps his cup.  Paloma begins to stand changing her mind, as the lyrics begin to list what women have been to men all these years —  the camera panning to her hands settled on the table moving up towards the food that had been eaten, destroyed, and left in shabby scraps. Picking up a pomegranate she stabs her thumb into it, the red juice spilling all over her white blouse possibly referring to the lost visual purity the man had of his wife as she continues to break the fruit open, eating its insides in a hungered state.  As if she has not eaten in ages, the fruit begins to look like blood dripping from her mouth and drowning the plate, with Paloma forgetting to use any utensils in an animal-like state, smiling up at her husband who can only return the smile before expressing disgust and anger, refusing to continue looking at her. No longer willing to passively listen to his rants about the amount of labor she has to do for him, Paloma disappears, escaping his gaze, the lyrics echoing, “You make me do too much labour.”

I personally haven’t been in a relationship with such traditional views of marriage although I have lived with people who shout those traditions on top of rooftops until their lungs burst and it definitely did a number on me. My own mother fell victim to such a situation as most of the other women in my family, cooking, cleaning, transforming into baby machines, rushing to be clean and tidy just for their husbands. It’s a tough household to live in when a little girl wants to be exactly like mom, while she can only provide the embodiment of stale bread type of advice for existing. All around me as I grew older was judgement and pressure to shape myself, to be for someone else, which in turn only led to ‘rebellion’ as my mother called it. I refused to cook so she forced me to clean and babysit everyday since the age of nine, convinced I would have the same fate as her, never caring what I could be. My mother’s relationships that instilled those traditional views caused even more damage to our personal relationship as I was to blame for a lot of things, according to her. Similarly, Paris Paloma’s song isn’t just about a romantic relationship despite what the lyrics say. 

The reason I relate to the song and video is because the concept of the views of misogyny and forced roles upon women that belittle their entire existence are something that can be pushed by anyone to everyone no matter the age or experience they have. It’s ignorance when refusing to look at your own wounds.  It is stupid to stand in the way of a deadly beast instead of taking it down but it’s also cruel to blame the victims for their incompetence to protect themselves from the beast, if they were never given a weapon. Women never had the weapon.


Video three: “Last Woman on Earth”

Throughout this third and final video, Paloma wears a white flowy dress, a symbol of purity as if she were in a wedding perhaps, a virgin in ceremonial bare feet, or simply complying with social standards of purity.   Still, upon deeper reading, it appears that Paloma wears black clothing underneath this guise – which means, to me, there is an underlying darkness to her existence. For makeup, Paloma has a nice bright red on her lips along with an obvious circle of blush on her cheeks in a greyish blue setting with dark falling ash scattering all around. It seems gloomy with the slow music progressively getting louder as the lyrics make jabs at the historical acts men have done in life such as burying themselves next to or buying out a slot above a dead woman, or buying a lock of hair. Choosing beasts over men when it comes to her body, Paris Paloma states to leave her long enough to turn green and blue successfully being undesirable once more her words continue to have heavy meaning, clearly expressing that even if women are dead and no longer alive, men will still try to disturb them, as silence is still a desirable trait, no matter the rot on their skin. She chooses to be cremated and tattooed — to be considered ruined to be saved — before being unceremoniously disposed of into the waves.  Towards the end Paloma is finished yelling out her demands:  “I’ll take the flame over desecration … Promise you will make these arrangements. Don’t you dare think it’s overkill…” Clearly looking beyond the painted concrete walls of a building, in exhaustion as if almost in tears, her voice quivers slightly in her last few lines, and finally she stays in a self-made embrace breathing heavily in silence after singing her final lyric.  “For the first time since I drew breath, I’m undesirable again,” Paloma sings, before the camera pans to her in the corner of an open wall hugging her knees as the video fades. This shows how the acts of men in society are isolating to women, who may choose to be alone as to avoid being disrespected and violated, by simply existing.  The song’s name, “Last Woman on Earth,” brings the point home that if there ever was just one woman, the men would most likely try to find her grave, which is why Paloma makes demands to let her rot, cremate, and have her remains tossed into the chaotic waves of the oceans – her virtual erasure and undesirability still preferable to a life controlled.

This song reminds me of my anger when I was younger, when I was so unstable that I chose to break my room apart, paint the walls and windows to darken my space, break my glasses in half, and cry on the floor every time I was wronged by my mother or her partner. I would have these lyrics etched into my bones if I could. It all speaks to me on a profound level. I struggle even now to write about how I explain the desire to not exist yet be everything at once.  Every day I think about my own existence remembering how there are those with power destroying my rights little by little, throwing paint called fear onto the walls of homes and buildings in cities desiring control. It’s terrifying to think that maybe in a few years I will be nothing but a tool, just like they wanted –  so i sit in my chair staring out the window wishing I never existed at all.  Yet I continue my work;  I’m busy so those thoughts are reserved for breaks, even as I read the news about women being wronged almost everyday. What can we do anyway? Paloma’s is a touching song about wishing to be undesirable. I can’t help it if I want to be the same as well. I would also want to hide my grave. I would want to spread my ashes somewhere safe away from any eyes of man. Of course I don’t want my body to be dug up just for some sick play. No, I don’t want visitors stepping on green grass next to my tombstone. I refuse to share my grave, whether it be beside me or on top.


Paris Paloma has continued to grow and we can only watch as she gains more listeners to hear her voice of reason in a mess of a world where she is clear on where she stands. Her powerful lyrics, tales of the female experience and video imagery draw the audience into narratives of the character and into their lives. Paris Paloma uses her voice for the women who have been through or are going through abuse. The metaphors she utilizes add strength to her belief while letting the listener wonder about their own experiences or someone else’s as a way to deliver her message of change. It might not be the exact experiences but it’s all about interpretation, as we are different minds in the same dying planet.