PollyHill on ‘Post Humorous’

Words by Hannah Powell. Images Daniel Vieviorka.

Yo Vocal had a chat with Tāmaki Makaurau-based MC PollyHill. A month after the release of ‘Post Humorous’, we sat down with the artist to talk about her EP, her journey of sound, and being a female hip hop artist in the underground scene.

Let us introduce PollyHill, aka Paloma Schneideman. A filmmaker, rapper, and multi-instrumentalist, Tāmaki Makaurau is where she calls home. 

Paloma’s second EP, ‘Post Humorous’, came out in late May. Featuring five tracks that touch on personal experience and social commentary, the EP was a bit of an exercise in healing, too. Paloma agrees it’s her most vulnerable work to date. 

“The whole package is kind of meant to be the end of self-deprecating and the end of pretending like I didn’t care about the music,” she says. 

A filmmaker first, the music was always a bonus for her. Entering in with an air of no fucks given, she never thought it would be received well enough to continue on. The universe thought differently, and she saw enough signs to push on. Making ‘Post Humorous’, Paloma wondered if this was the end of self-sabotage.

The EP is intended to be listened to from start to finish and has been described as a journey from one feeling to another. The first line begins with ‘I’m not a joke’ and ending, most pointed, with ‘post-humorous’. 

“Traditionally, the music’s always been quite boom-bap simple loops, and the lyrics came first,” Paloma says, “The production on this one was supposed to be more of a journey – more emphasis on storytelling, I guess”. 

PollyHill began when Paloma met Olli Jones. Working at AS Colour together, they started jamming soon after. The duo performed at house parties before featuring on 95bFM. Their new band’s feature led to a showcase, then a gig. However, Paloma and Olli gracefully parted ways. They’re still good friends now.

“I was very addicted to the music, very kind of obsessive with it,” Paloma says. Their drive was misaligned, she says, but their creative chemistry was great.

PollyHill went solo. I ask Paloma what it’s like to be a female MC in the industry. 

“I definitely came in with a preconception that no one would fuck with me,” she says. She’s been shown a lot of kindness but admits there’s definitely a “masc-dominated” inner circle to hip-hop. 

“Women artists and women rappers are celebrated until they get to a point, and then if it’s at all threatening, or they’re growing in a different direction, or evolving, sometimes there’s a hesitance to fuck with you.” People don’t want you to outgrow them, she says. 

Paloma’s never felt tied to NZ, never felt like an inherently Kiwi artist. She always thought the sound would be better received in other places. But the people here have certainly got behind it. Playing Twisted Frequency, Splore festival, Others Way, and Laneway, she’s opened for New York MC Wiki too. 

“That being said, there’s a wonderful community that I really fuck with. They gas me up, and I gas them up too,” Paloma says, enjoying the underground more than commercial success. Success to PollyHill looks like smaller communities with the right people, rather than more people. She describes her community as those who are looking to break boundaries and make their own lanes. 

Going back to the music, I ask about the last track on ‘Post Humourous’, ‘Unloveable’. Paloma describes the track as her own exercise in healing, a song for herself. 

“[But also] like a fuck you,” she says. “I know exactly how people want to position me. I’ll lean into that for as long as it serves me, but don’t think that I don’t know that I can tick a box.” 

Though touching on vulnerability and tokenism, the song ends hopeful rather than hopeless.

“People in the industry like what’s topical at the time, and I can see like a young, queer women rapper I can probably do some of that box-ticking”. But she says she’s more than that, too. 

Inspired by lyricists such as MF Doom and Earl Sweatshirt, PollyHill’s wordplay is clever and witty. But as for what’s next, the MC wants to let the music speak more for itself. Think expressing through a soundscape and evoking her sound without compromising the essence of PollyHill.