Steve 'Flash' JuonPolearm has at least three names — the one he uses on “Therapy,” the similar Lil Polearm (as if there aren’t enough “Lil” rappers) and Halberd. The Apple Music listing for his album describes his style as alternative rap although if I was the one assigning categories I would have gone with “emo.” He sings and/or cries his way through his high pitched vocals on “AFRAID OF YOU,” trying to suck in enough helium to float above his Soundcloud stylings.
By the time you’ve got a handle on this style and Polearm’s presentation, the song is over. It’s exactly one minute long. It feels a little bit silly that the next song is called “DROPDEADINTERLUDE” when it too is also 60 seconds. An interlude should be some sort of breather between tracks — a skit, a short snippet, an instrumental. This is just another song with Polearm’s vocals going even higher thanks to some pitch shifting digital manipulation.
The truth is every song/interlude/whatever on “Therapy” is a minute long. In the right hands that could be an interesting idea for an album. In the wrong hands it’s just enough time for an aspiring emo rapper to imitate all of the more established singers of the genre. Listen to “EYES/HOME” with your eyes closed without paying careful attention and you might believe you had stumbled across a cross between Lil Lotus and Post Malone.
What I’m trying to say politely here is that Polearm doesn’t have a lot to offer in either substance or originality. His songs aren’t long enough for him to form ideas that differentiate him from the artists who both inspire him and who he winds up imitating accidentally or on purpose. He commits the sin of being entirely banal and easily forgotten. He’s neither good enough to be your new favorite or bad enough for me to completely shit all over him. “Therapy” was released as the global pandemic was disrupting all of our lives so he may deserve some grace for that, but nothing here is memorable after multiple listens.