A weird, wonderful and all around worthy addition to the late songwriters catalogue.
Posthumous albums can be a gamble. Growing up as a 2Pac and Biggie fanatic, it was clear to see the best of their discography lied in their earthly years. The Big Picture by Big L and The Shining from J Dilla are solid works, but the latter’s demoes and drafts have been bled dry into beat tapes that he might not have thought about releasing. Recent drops from XXXTENTACION, Pop Smoke and Juice WRLD have come around to semi-positive/mixed reviews. Sometimes the gathering of unfinished material without guidance from the creator’s hand can lead to spotty results.
One exception to this average is Mac Miller. He was a prolific musician, dropping 5 albums and 10 mixtapes/EP’s over the course of his career. Circles did justice to his artistry, maturity and growth – his discography is one of evolution, from college party kid to a serious songwriter, unafraid to wrestle his demons and bare his soul in front of us. Completed by Swimming collaborator and producer/film-scorer Jon Brion, the tracklist was packed with reflections on mental health and prophetic musings on mortality, an extra weight added in the context of Miller’s tragic passing. Both musically and thematically, there were no loose ends – if that was the last we heard of Mac Miller, we went out on a beautiful high note.
And now, we have Balloonerism. A body of work recorded around the same time as sophomore album Watching Movies With The Sound Off, and psychedelic mixtape masterpiece Faces, ultimately shelved in favour of alternate projects. It’s been familiar with his fanbase for years. Lucky enough to be going in with fresh ears, when I saw the animated teaser and its insane humanoid world-building and swirling, atmospheric music, I was hopeful. This wasn’t going to be a half-hearted legacy lap. Maybe another piece as polished as the last one.
Musically, the project taps into the rawer, darker side of Miller’s style. His beats and flows can have a certain charming clunkiness to it, whether indifferently slurring syllables together in his raps, or beating odd echoey drum patterns with lurking basslines on “Friendly Hallucinations”. His subdued delivery compliments the trippy pictures he paints, as if you’re in the room sharing a joint while he tries to find an existential meaning to his stoned tangents. The dissonant, off-kilter instrumentation can sound like a slightly jazzier take on Earl and Tyler’s earlier albums. They collaborated a few times during this era, and you can hear their collective’s rugged spirit bleed into Mac’s production choices.
The stories sometimes meander around vague portraits of troubled females and drug trips, like on the murky, mellow funk of “Stoned”. There’s no sacrifice of lyricism, but his spaced-out, humorous rhymes seem to take a backseat, letting the unorthodox instrumentals be the driving force on the album. Still, he does share some poignant observations about the fortune that fame brought, and the innocence he lost for it. On “Do You Have A Destination?” he humbly brags “Rich as fuck and miserable/At least I did Kimmel and Arsenio, my mom got it on video”. Another cutting contemplation comes on “Mrs Deborah Downer”, where he speaks about his money and habits alienating a close friend, as “he always got the chills/when he saw a room full of rolled up hundred-dollar bills.”
More captivating moments come on “Excelsior”, a fleeting track which features playground stories over a pensive piano loop, pondering the youthful freedom and fascination “before the world tears apart imagination.” He’s great at marrying the comic and profound, on the same track rapping how the kids “only enemies are brussels sprouts and spinach”. His infectious personality shines through at the start of “Rick’s Piano”, hearing him excitedly joke with his audio engineer. Which makes the ending chorus of “What does death feel like? Why does death steal life?” hit your stomach so much harder. It’s like a glimpse of the guy we all loved, followed by the thoughts that eventually consumed him.
Weighed against his other projects, it feels like this album doesn’t 100% know what it wants to be, flitting between the bizzarro psych-rap of his Faces years, and the thoughtful musicianship and serious nature of his later work. This contrast can be felt even in the first proper track, “DJ’s Chord Organ”, where a stunning, swirling Flying Lotus-esque introduction is followed by trollish accordions that sound plucked from an RPG soundtrack. It’s still one of my favourite tracks, but the clash of styles is noticeable on first listen.
But maybe that lack of a fixed identity works to its advantage? Some highlights of the record conjure up memories of different stages in Millers career. “5 Dollar Pony Rides” is an elegant neo-soul number, with Thundercat providing a plucky bassline that would have absolutely crushed at their beloved Tiny Desk performance. “Transformations” revives the mischievous menace of Delusional Thomas, the “psychopathic thinker, hyperactive drinker”. Another standout track is “Funny Papers”, a Beatles-inspired cut with pretty pianos and a melancholy mood that would fit perfectly in the closing half of Swimming.
Altogether, this is another worthy addition to Mac’s discography. While lacking the conceptual focus of his best releases, it’s still a more cohesive offering than most will see released once they pass. An experimental listen with enough enjoyable moments for his fans to dissect, and a time capsule showing his coming metamorphosis from off-the-wall acid raps to the brilliant, brooding tones of his later work. Maybe those refrains on “Rick’s Piano” can relate to his growing talents, as well as a positive affirmation he was trying to hold onto – “the best is yet to come”.
RATING: 7.5/10