“I wonder, what does death feel like?” confesses Mac Miller in “Rick’s Piano,” the 13th track on his second posthumous studio album, Balloonerism. From beyond the grave, Miller reminds us of the difficulties of the human experience: pain, confusion, and suffering. Though it may seem dark, he challenges us to consider how we bear this burden. His music doesn’t just dwell in sorrow, however, it prompts introspection. Rather than simply expressing pain, Miller’s work explores how we navigate it, cope with it, and find meaning in it. This unflinching exploration of Miller’s struggles can be particularly powerful for listeners who feel alone in facing similar challenging circumstances.
Mac Miller, a beloved rapper, musician, and artist, left a lasting mark on the music industry with his lyrics and an alternative hip-hop and jazz-blending sound unlike any other. Throughout his career, he was open about his struggles with depression, addiction, and substance abuse, using his music as an outlet to express his pain, emotions, and personal battles. After a relapse in 2018, he died from an accidental drug overdose at the age of 26. Even before his untimely death, Miller seemed well aware of his struggles, and referenced his eventual fate on albums like Faces and Balloonerism.
Balloonerism was recorded in 2014, nestled between two of Miller’s most musically diverse pieces, Watching Movies With the Sound Off and Faces. These albums marked a significant change in Miller’s artistic approach, signaling the transition from a carefree rapper known for his feel-good anthems to an artist unafraid to explore the complexities of his mind. Earlier in his career, Miller’s songs were largely positive, upbeat recordings that dominated the house parties and skate parks of the early 2010s, with tracks that radiated youthful optimism and the thrill of coming-of-age experiences. However, as he matured and became more open with his struggles, his music followed, shifting toward a more vulnerable and unfiltered expression of his struggles with addiction, fame and self-doubt. It was as if his songs transformed from crowd-pleasing hits into personal diary entries, capturing his battles and reflections.
Balloonerism remained unreleased until January 17, 2025, five years after the release of his previous posthumous studio album, Circles. With 14 songs and a total of 58 minutes of listening, Miller revealed the weight of his heart and soul, weaving a deeply personal narrative that wrestled with themes of death, drug addiction, and depression. Each track feels like a window into his personal struggles, offering listeners an unfiltered look at the emotional turmoil that shaped his thoughts. Tragic as they often were, his sentiments were incredibly honest.
Compared to his earlier albums, the difference between moods and lyrics in his music is particularly evident in Balloonerism. Most songs on the album are built around piano, bass, drums and Miller’s vocals, with the soft beats preserving an element of lightness even through the dark lyrics. On the song “Shangri-La,” Miller raps in a low-pitched voice, “If I’m dyin’ young, promise you’ll smile at my funeral.” He follows this with, “Live your life ’cause you can lose tomorrow.” The song’s free-flowing, unpatterned background drums, floating synths, and ethereal instrumentals create a sense of detachment from reality, almost like a hazy memory that no longer feels real. Whether the listener perceives it as nostalgia or regret, the way the song was produced provides the impression of a memory being reshaped.
Miller’s existential curiosity about death seems to loom over the album. It’s impossible to listen to lyrics like “God is like the school bell, He gon’ tell you when your time is up” without getting a lump in your throat, given Miller’s eventual fate. His tragic passing adds a layer of heartache with every note, and this unintended posthumous lens makes the music even more vulnerable. What was intended as a raw, artistic exploration of existential thoughts now feels almost predictive of the artist’s fate, transforming the album into a bittersweet farewell.
Balloonerism turns into more than just a collection of songs, but rather, a piece of his untold story — one that speaks to the pain of addiction and the challenges of navigating fame while struggling with substance abuse. “Okay, I went to sleep famous and I woke up invisible/Rich as fuck and miserable,” Miller sings on “Do You Have A Destination?” These lyrics capture the contrast between external success and internal emptiness, reflecting the emotional toll that his sudden stardom took on him. On “Mrs. Deborah Downer”, Miller reflects on the difficulty of quitting his drug use and resisting a relapse, as well as finding social connection while struggling with addiction, saying, “Started smokin’ weed again, started tryna read again,” and, “Clean myself up, now would you be my friend?” In his lyrics, Miller expresses his deep internal struggles: wanting to quit yet falling back into old habits, and yearning for social support and acceptance despite his addiction.
The release of Balloonerism adds to Miller’s legacy by providing fans with a deeper connection to his personal struggles and resilience. It stands as a strong reminder of the many things he faced both in his career and his mental health, and the everlasting impact of his music. The album serves as both a celebration of his artistry and a reflection of his evolution, offering listeners an intimate look at his creative process during a difficult time in his personal life. Balloonerism honors Miller’s journey by ensuring that his voice continues to resonate, inspiring reflection in longtime fans and new listeners alike.
