The release of “Balloonerism,” Mac Miller’s posthumous album, was met with a mix of anticipation and skepticism.
Posthumous records often have a reputation for being cash grabs, more concerned with exploiting an artist’s legacy than preserving their true essence. As a longtime fan of Miller’s work, I approached this album with hesitation, unsure if it would be a fitting tribute or another opportunistic release. But within the first few tracks, I was surprised that “Balloonerism” was neither of those things.
It was an emotional, raw and deeply personal reflection of Miller’s life, not only honoring his memory but providing a window into the artist he was becoming.
From the very beginning, “Balloonerism” shows its heart. The album’s honesty is its most striking feature.
A few tracks sound rough around the edges, where the production is incomplete or lacking the polish of a finished project. But rather than detracting from the experience, these unfinished moments offer a unique intimacy.
Songs like “DJ’s Chord Organ,” which features SZA, are a perfect example of this. They allow us to witness where Miller was in his creative journey, showcasing hazy, lo-fi quality type tracks.
This record would have been recorded long before SZA’s debut album.
It captures a moment of transition in his career where he continued to push the boundaries with new sounds and collaborations, yet his verse for the track was unfinished. These imperfections only add to the album’s authenticity by showcasing the rough drafts that might have been.
Many of these tracks were recorded when Miller was working on Faces, one of my favorite projects from his discography. And if you’re a fan of “Faces,” “Balloonerism” will feel familiar, almost like an extension of the mood, the lyrical introspection and the hazy production that defined that era of his music.
It’s clear from tracks like “Transformations” that Miller was shifting towards a more experimental, exploratory phase in his music, blending different genres and once again pushing the boundaries of his sound.
Tracks like “Stoned” and “5 Dollar Pony Rides,” are filled with melancholy as Miller wrestles with his inner demons and the complexities of fame. The vulnerability is almost tangible. These songs also feel less like final products and more like glimpses into a mind still in flux, grappling with addiction, mental health struggles and a sense of existential uncertainty.
For anyone navigating similar challenges, the album feels like a companion, one that speaks to the importance of opening up about the struggles we all face, especially when so many of us are learning to cope with our demons.
But it’s not all heavy. Tracks like “Funny Papers” and “Shangri-La,” show Miller’s ability to blend introspection with a playful, almost whimsical side. These moments serve as a reminder of his versatility. He could go from deep contemplation to carefree joy, all while remaining authentic to himself. This emotional range made Miller’s music so powerful during his life, and this album does an incredible job of carrying that legacy forward.
One of the most intriguing aspects of “Balloonerism” is the return of Miller’s alter egos. His music often embodied different sides of his personality, at times playful, other times introspective and even self-destructive, which I can relate to.
On this album, these alter egos come through in full force, particularly on tracks like Shangri-La, where Miller grapples with different facets of himself. These personas were central to his artistic process, allowing him to experiment with various emotional tones and themes. In “Balloonerism,” they’re not just creative devices, they’re symbols of his struggle to reconcile the different parts of his identity.
Perhaps this is what makes “Balloonerism” such a significant record. It’s not just a collection of songs; it’s a snapshot of a man in transition, evolving both as an artist and a person. We are fortunate enough to witness Miller’s final creative steps, and while the album might not be fully polished, it’s deeply telling of the direction he was headed. More than anything, it reminds us of Miller’s complexity, humanity and the universal themes of self-doubt, growth and redemption that many of us face.
“Balloonerism” doesn’t just cement Miller’s legacy, it enhances it. After hearing this album, it’s clear that Miller was on the cusp of an even greater artistic evolution, and “Balloonerism” is a testament to his ability to connect with listeners on a profoundly personal level. It doesn’t feel like a cynical cash grab; it feels like a final gift from an artist who wanted to share his journey, pain and moments of clarity with the world.
For those of us who were fans of Miller, “Balloonerism” serves as both a closure and a celebration of a musical legacy that will endure long after his passing. The album is not just a farewell, it’s an invitation to keep the conversation going about mental health, self-expression and the importance of vulnerability. Miller was always about being real, and “Balloonerism” stays true to that mission, even in his absence.