POLLARI’s sphere of influence expands exponentially in all directions, not unlike the universe we inhabit. Since last summer, the seed of his ✞ lil llàri world ✞ mixtape has swollen into a full-fledged galaxy. On his newest effort, llàri’s still orbited by his usual cast of satellites: three-headed trap trio Larry League, sensei’s twinkling synth-pop production, and corporate-icon-cum-punk-rap-deconstructionist Lil Yachty.
The molecular composition and physics of POLLARI’s plane of existence remain the same — only the scope has changed. His autotuned, giggled delivery is as weightless as ever, bounding in zero-gravity atop tufts of radiant keyboard. Bumping the tape’s like living out the old cliché of frolicking through the fields of flora, only in your case, the flora’s the heavenly bodies and the field’s the breadth of the cosmos. While most trap seeks to attain some semblance of grit — of tangible realness — llàri strives for the unreal, intentionally waxing cornball about ancient mythos and atmospheric phenomena. On soon-to-be-classic single “Lil Elroy Jetson”, he imagines himself as the Sun itself, sunglassed gaze fixed on the rainbow that beckons from below. He’s no human, no animal, no robot — just some supermassive object, inspiring awe just by occupying sonic space, spraying cyborg melodies like UV rays.