Like all of us, Mac Miller had no idea what he was doing. The rapper was just 19 years old when he released his first major album, K.I.D.S.—just aging out of childhood himself. In college, we often feel like twentysomethings, trying to push through growing pains, deal with complex relationships, and figure out who we really are. Six years after Miller's tragic death, we’re still mourning the loss of the artist who understood that feeling best.
Malcolm McCormick, known professionally as Mac Miller, started navigating the music world in 2007 from the big small town of Pittsburgh, releasing mixtapes like But My Mackin’ Ain’t Easy and The Ill Spoken: How High: The Mixtape. His first few tracks were raunchy, with very simple amateur beats, but if you listen closely, he has good flow in his lyrics. Of course, like most endeavors we pursue at 15 years old, it wasn’t all that great. However, in 2010, Miller signed with Rostrum Records, a smallish Pittsburgh label, which kicked off his eventual fame in the music industry.
When you’re in college, it often feels like you can see your whole life in front of you, but also your whole life behind you. Miller's music is nostalgic and allows us to reckon with the latter—he wants his listeners to know that his music is something they can find comfort in. His 2011 record Blue Slide Park shows the diversity of experiences and topics that Miller can rap about. In the title track “Blue Slide Park,” he raps, “Young and actin’ out, the topics that I rap about/Be varyin' from politics to bitches pullin’ asses out.”
Miller's artistry takes listeners on a journey through his hometown, starting on “English Lane,” passing “Blue Slide Park," and ending up at a “Party on Fifth Ave." You feel like you’re sitting right next to him as he claps back at his haters in “Smile Back." He demonstrates throughout this album his determination to contribute to music in a big way, but also remain true to himself and his fans. Miller expresses his humility while also asserting his destiny for greatness.
As we grow in age and character throughout college, we experience the highest highs and the lowest lows. Miller feels the same ups and downs in his own life as he tries to balance fame with normalcy. Although Blue Slide Park earned the number one spot on the US Billboard 200 during its debut week, it received extremely mixed reviews—leading Miller to turn to promethazine (Lean) to cope. In an interview with Complex, Miller says, “You’re 19, you’re so excited to put out your first album, you put it out—and no one has any respect for you or for what you did.” He took the reviews personally, which began his long and painful journey through addiction.
I was 11 when GO:OD AM was released in 2015, entering the halls of middle school and completely oblivious to Mac Miller’s existence. I had heard “The Spins” and “Diamonds & Gold,” of course, but that didn’t encourage me to consider him for a spot in my music rotation—yet. Enter GO:OD AM, one of his most authentic and skillful works, showing off not only his willingness to talk about drug abuse and mental health issues, but also his desire to try out a variety of musical styles.
In “Perfect Circle/God Speed,” he raps, "Everybody sayin' I need rehab/'Cause I’m speedin' with a blindfold on/It won’t be long before they watchin' me crash/And they don’t wanna see that.” The album pays tribute to the friends and family members that guided Miller through a rough period of his life. GO:OD AM tells the world that Miller knows how the rap industry sees him—a goofy white boy rapper. But he chooses to take that label as a compliment and continues loving his family, friends, and hometown, like any good boy would do.
Taking people’s thoughts and opinions about you with a grain of salt, continuing to nurture who you really are—those are the truths that Miller wanted his audience to live by. But reaching this level of self–awareness and honesty is difficult, especially as young adults who just want to fit in. Miller respects this fact in GO:OD AM, and shows that he understands the struggle of trying to balance belonging with being true to yourself.
Miller's 2016 album The Divine Feminine is self–explanatory: an homage to the women in his life. In “Congratulations”—one of Miller's best love songs—listeners are taken through the highs and lows of a relationship. For the rapper, loving someone is more than just roses and cuddling—it’s loving them when it’s hard, both financially and emotionally. Lyrics such as “Bought a wedding ring … guess I just forgot it" and "I'm the jealous type" demonstrate his anxieties about losing someone who has brought so much light into his life.
Although The Divine Feminine is Miller's shortest album, it explores love to great depths and shows the authenticity behind his art. Pop princess Ariana Grande was confirmed to be the muse of the song “Cinderella,” but also rumored to be the inspiration of the whole album. As we begin to explore relationships and sharing a life with a partner as we mature, there are many layers to loving someone that we can only learn through experience. Miller wants his audience to understand the complexities of love in the modern age and how beautiful it is to truly love another person.
His next album, Swimming, would also be his last, releasing a little over a month before his death in September 2018. As I listen to this album now, I get chills. In “Self Care,” he raps, “so like September I fall,” seemingly foreshadowing his sudden death. The record is truly a masterpiece that is nuanced in addressing Miller's addiction and mental health struggles. His storytelling is spectacular, using modes of symbolism like flight and water to reflect on his life. Miller's lyrics evoke feelings of helplessness, darkness, and loss. But he also reminds listeners of the hopeful light at the end of the tunnel. A particular standout for me is “Small Worlds”—if you intently listen to the lyrics, you can go past the song’s upbeat style and see how truly lonely and dejected Miller sounds.
I found so much comfort in Swimming as I navigated my high school years. I felt less lost and scared. I felt that Miller would be happy to listen to me if I ever ran into him. And when Miller passed away, I felt his loss deeply. Just when I began to see who he was and find peace with myself through his lyrics—he was gone. I sat in my rickety bed listening to every bit of his discography with my yellowed–wired earbuds, desperately trying to find more of the human being hidden throughout the music.
His first posthumous album, Circles, closed the loop of Miller's discography, complimenting Swimming’s somewhat rap–heavy style with more of his emotive singing voice. It’s not clear how complete this album was when he died, but it provides hope that Miller died fighting to break a cycle of destruction in his life. He shows strides in self–reformation and healing throughout the album. In “Good News,” he preaches, “There’s a whole lot more for me waitin’ on the other side.”
With the release of his second posthumous album Balloonerism, fans are reminded of the impact Miller continues to have in music. This album was allegedly created around the same time as Faces, and Miller's estate claims this album was very important to him. They believe that “ … the project showcases both the breadth of his musical talents and fearlessness as an artist.” Much of the album focuses on the relationship of man with death—in the song “Manakins“, he sings “But what can we do? What can we do?/’Cause I see the light at the end of the tunnel.”
Mac Miller produced an incredible amount of music—he fell in love with both making art and connecting with his fans. The connection audiences feel to his music is profoundly personal—some albums resonate more than others, be it Blue Slide Park, Swimming, or any of his countless other projects. As we live in a “post–Mac” world and find ourselves lost in our young lives without him, confiding in his music is where we can feel him again. Miller music will forever provide space for young people to feel understood and respected, hoping we can live the way he wanted us to.
