If I die young, promise to smile at my funeral
Mac Miller
Recorded in 2014 and released on the 17th of January this year, the album is Miller’s second posthumous album following Circles from 2020. Unlike this first project, which was originally intended as a companion piece to 2018’s Swimming, to create the Swimming in Circles project, Balloonerism doesn’t pretend to be a polished farewell to a much-loved artist, but instead a raw, unedited gift from Mac to his fans, giving them the opportunity to resonate with his music once more.
Released alongside a short film directed by Samuel Jerome Mason, the album is both a return to the archives and a poignant reminder of where Mac was at this time of his career. Following the success of his frat-day rap on K.I.D.S it was a time of introspection and experimentation, which eventually brought us Macadelic and Watching Movies with the Sound Off. The lyrics on Balloonerism offer an insight into the pondering of the young Mac and his very existence at this time in a way that is now eerily prophetic. The rapper tragically passed away from an accidental drug overdose in 2018 before he was due to embark on his next tour.
A large portion of Balloonerism had already been leaked on SoundCloud, with many fans clinging to unofficial releases as a way to feel closer to Miller and his music. In many ways, this release gives the album the proper platform it deserves and allows fans to convene once again in celebration of his life in music. Importantly, the producers of the album made a conscious decision to leave the tracks largely untouched with no reinvention or heavy editing. The roughness of some of the album is no mistake or coincidence, but rather a crucial part of its production and charm, a gift from high above the clouds if you will.
Musically, the album leans into simple beats and a relatively sparse production, allowing the lyrics to take centre stage. They are harrowing, and reflect the troubles that Miller experienced with substances even in the early stages of his career. There is an underlying playfulness, wit and wordplay characteristic of Miller’s style, but with an undeniable weight to other parts, which are only heavier now following his passing.
The album closes with the almost haunting 11 minute track, 'Tomorrow Will Never Come', a piece that leaves listeners with the uneasy silence of an unanswered answerphone. Ringing out until the last notes of the song, it is a heartbreaking reminder of the fragility of the album’s core and it’s creators' struggles and the tragic echo they leave behind.
Posthumous releases are always complicated, often treading a fine line between honouring an artist’s legacy and exploiting it, but Balloonerism avoids the latter and instead serves as a powerful glimpse into the brilliant mind of Mac Miller. Whether or not any more of Miller’s unreleased work will make it to the light of day, this album alone stands as testament to his artistry, openness and his long-lasting legacy.