Romy Hoffman has found herself at more than her fair share of crossroads after more than three decades in music. The front woman of self-described “pastiche post-punk” band Agender has previously navigated the worlds of hip-hop, electronica, and alternative rock across various projects. She also started her life anew in Sydney, New York City and Los Angeles. But when she formed Agender in 2011, it marked a far more significant new beginning. “I had just gotten sober, and I felt like I was going crazy,” she recalls over a Zoom chat with CONE, visiting family in Sydney before heading back to her current home of L.A.
“I had all these new thoughts and feelings running around my head, and I didn’t know how to process them,” she continues. “Sorting through all of them through the medium of punk music ironically felt safe and comfortable. It’s the kind of music where you’re allowed to be messy and sloppy, rather than contained and concise.”
In 2011, Agender released their debut album, Self (En)Titled: a bedroom project written, recorded, and performed entirely by Hoffman. The band expanded into a power trio in 2013, releasing their sophomore album, Fixations, and touring in support of it the following year. The latter half of the 2010s brought a shift. Hoffman shelved Agender to focus on making electronic dance music under her own name.
It wasn’t until the new decade arrived that Hoffman felt called back to Agender. She assembled a new lineup—bassist Christy Michel, keyboardist Sara Rivas, and drummer Christy Greenwood. And in 2022, the band released No Nostalgia, a dark, synth-driven album. Now, Hoffman and company keep the flame burning with Berserk, a fierce, riotous record packed with rough-and-tumble rock and rabble-rousing energy.
Despite the shifting circumstances behind each Agender release, Hoffman sees a clear thread connecting them all. “The through line is always trying to make sense of the world,” she explains. “It’s my wounds and the world’s wounds coming together. When I write, I write about abandonment issues and attachment issues. I’ve done a lot of work, though I’m cautious to say that. It’s this constant final frontier for me. If you look at a song like ‘Action Reaction,’ that’s a good example of trying to fix my wounds in a wounded world. It’s social commentary, but it’s broader than just that.”
The album closer, “I Need A Break From The USA,” carries a message that feels especially relatable to everyone in 2025. For Hoffman, the sentiment comes from an even more unique perspective, given that she is originally from Australia. Coming from a country that banned firearms in 1996 and where abortion is legal, Hoffman still finds the climate of American politics to be a culture shock—no matter how long she’s lived there.
“I’m definitely aware of the unique voice and perspective that I have as an outsider,” admits Hoffman. “I moved to L.A. 11 years ago, and obviously things are very different now. As a queer woman, everything that is going on affects me and my friends and my community. She suggests the band is a vessel for unfiltered expression and critique: “What we’re doing as Agender is our own kind of gonzo journalism. We’re commenting on the world. It’s something we take seriously. When it comes down to it, there is no real distinction between the political and the personal.”
Hoffman merges Agender with the sound of her previous hip-hop project, Macromantics, on the rapid-fire vocal delivery and raw energy of Life Is Acid. Meanwhile, the aptly titled Dissonant Disco infuses dance-punk with a gothic edge, and Jeans channels the spirit of punk legends like the Buzzcocks and the Ramones.
“I’ve always treated Agender’s albums like these kind of punk-rock mixtapes,” she explains of their musical evolution. “I feel like we live in a world that kind of suits that approach. We really seem to be in a post-genre landscape in a lot of ways. A lot of what’s popular seems to be a mishmash of everything, and that really works for my style of writing. When I’m writing, I’ll do something like write three pop-punk songs in a row, then two minimalist post-punk songs, then two crazy synth songs. They all just tend to write themselves. With Berserk, I wanted it to sound like a collage, or maybe a newspaper you’d flip through, where each song has its own headline and its own sound.”
Hoffman began her music journey in 1995, at just 15 years old, when she joined the Sydney band Noise Addict as the lead guitarist. Though her time with the group was brief, the experience set her on a lifelong musical path. Now in her mid-40s, she reflects on whether songwriting still excites her as much as it did in her teens and 20s. Her response is layered with both passion and struggle.
“It’s very hard being motivated to make music as you get older,” she admits. “No one is making any money in the streaming climate. I barely made enough money to put this album out. Then again, I barely had any money when I was making music as a teenager either. At that age, you just picked up your instrument and you kept going. It’s life or death to express yourself when you’re that young. And when part of me wants to boycott the industry entirely, I just remember what I fought for in order to have this outlet. There’s still something exciting and something magical about creating something out of nothing.”
That magic is alive and well within the 23 minutes of Berserk, which is a testament to Hoffman’s enduring power. But she’s not entirely sure where that magic will guide her next. Could we get another Agender album? Or maybe a solo project? It could even be something entirely unexpected. If it turns out to be Agender’s fifth album, Hoffman knows the weight it carries. She’s keenly aware of the responsibilities that come with making punk music in the US. This is especially true with the current presidential administration looming overhead. “There’s almost too much to say in the era of Trump,” Hoffman says, her voice tinged with exasperation.
As she reflects on the future, the weight of the political climate becomes increasingly clear, creating a tension between her desire for creative freedom and the responsibility she feels as an artist. “Part of me wants to make dance music that doesn’t have to be something bigger by design. It’s more about the body,” she explains. “I’m feeling the calling to explore that, once we’ve done shows in support of this record. The idea of writing an Agender record through the second Trump era feels scary. The world is in such chaos, and the magnitude of it feels bigger than last time.”
She takes a deep breath, and looks ahead—both literally and metaphorically. “All that to say, whatever needs to come out will come out,” she concludes. “Whatever needs to be said will be said.”
Lead photo credit: Lindsey Byrnes
Byline: David James Young