Five years have gone by since the release of Mac Miller’s Circles, a profoundly gorgeous and hopeful record that’s become an example of how posthumous releases should be handled. It would be hard for the late Pittsburgh rapper’s second posthumous album to achieve the same reputation, and yet, far from a thoughtless cash grab, Balloonerism presents a collection of material – chunks of which fans have, one way or another, already been familiar with – in a careful and illuminating manner. Recorded between 2013 and 2014, during the same burst of creativity that produced Watching Movies With the Sound Off, Faces, and GO:OD AM, it dives into his struggles with mental health and substance abuse while also delighting in his versatile and spontaneous approach. Having made the leap from easygoing to darkly experimental hip-hop jams, where his career would go next was just one of the things in Miller’s mind. Balloonerism doesn’t just capture a moment in time but makes sure it doesn’t just float by, challenging as it may be.
1. Tambourine Dream
This half-minute tambourine instrumental sets the tone for the album, but it’s also a quick glimpse into the freewheeling sessions at Miller’s Sanctuary studio that produced it. Engineer Josh Berg revealed in a Twitch stream that it’s actually the same tambourine that was always used in Mac’s music and had its own makeshift stand in the studio.
2. DJ’s Chord Organ feat. SZA
Miller’s preciousness toward certain instruments becomes all the more apparent on this cut, which spotlights the chord organ Miller acquired after executive producing Daniel Johnston’s biographical film Hi, How Are You Daniel Johnston?. Knowing that Miller is credited on SZA’s 2014 project Z under his producer alias Larry Fisherman, the collaboration feels like an extension of their friendship: it starts out as a kaleidoscopic hang-out, until the trippiness controls into a darkly soulful portrait of exhaustion, where even Thundercat’s bass, nimble as ever, comes to feel downcast.
3. Do You Have a Destination?
“Rich as fuck and miserable” is a pretty potent summation of the rapper’s headspace around the making of Balloonerism, and the title ‘Do You Have a Destination?’ only sounds more foreboding in hindsight. The way Miller actually delivers and pronounces the lyric, though, sounds more matter-of-fact than anything, almost morbidly curious, and only plunging further into disorientation.
4. 5 Dollar Pony Rides
Ostensibly the breeziest and most sonically pleasant track on the album, ‘5 Dollar Pony Rides’ makes sense as a single, though the whole project had already leaked by the time of its release. In the context of Balloonerism, it’s not hard to feel beneath the surface, the distance between Miller’s longing and the relationship in question, as “Can I give you what you want?” scans more and more as a plea of desperation. So much of what he’s trying to savor, you quickly realize, has already been lost.
5. Friendly Hallucinations
Balloonerism may register more as a collection of loosies, but the chorus of ‘Friendly Hallucinations’ is as infectiously melodic as the best ones on Circles. As vampiric and dazed as it sounds – the album certainly feels cohesive in navigating a world of detachment – it holds fast to Miller’s signature earnestness. “Fallin’ victim to a world that’s filled with satire,” he raps, evading that very description.
6. Mrs. Deborah Downer
Miller still knew how to wring profundity out of the languid haze, which is likely why ‘Mrs. Deborah Downer’ sits at the very heart of Balloonerism. The track is as woozy as it is philosophical, especially in that doozy of a second verse: “Do I need to know the beginning to see the end? What’s the difference ‘tween the truth and things that we pretend?” he ponders over a thumping beat, increasingly self-aware even as he seems to be losing control.
7. Stoned
Catchier and more anthemic in tone than most anything on Balloonerism, ‘Stoned’ sees Miller turning the gaze outward, though his psychoanalytic eye picks up on the same escapist tendencies in his love interest that he’s already recognized in himself. When it’s shared, there’s a sense of comfort in the isolation.
8. Shangri-LA
Presumed to have been recorded at Rick Rubin’s Shangri-La studio in Malibu, CA, the track is hazier and more experimental than most of what precedes it, not just sonically but in its warped sense of time. This is where Balloonerism begins to zone out, which isn’t to say it dips in quality. You just to lean in a little more, if only to make out the words he spits in a pitched-down voice: “It’s the house of the risin’ sun, a village of unusual/ If I’m dyin’ young, promise you’ll smile at my funeral.” You can hardly pick out the sentiment behind the lines, but they certainly stick.
9. Funny Papers
Mortality was not a rare theme in Mac Miller’s discography, but there’s a strange resonance to the fact that his thoughts on death here are no less prescient than the most poignant songs on Circles. ‘Funny Papers’ might be the most gorgeous and stirring track on Balloonerism, all shimmering bass and piano chords. “Shit, I ain’t an innovator, just a motherfuckin’ illustrator,” he sighs at the end, but few could paint such a vivid picture.
10. Excelsior
Not quite a full song and too imaginative, in its cast of orphan children, to be just an interlude, ‘Excelsior’ briefly treasures the magic of innocence even if it acknowledges it’s long been lost. And preserves some of it, too.
11. Transformation feat. Delusional Thomas
After developing his Delusional Thomas alias for the 2013 horrorcore project of the same name, Miller used it quite a bit, but steered away from officially crediting his appearance once signing to a major label. ‘Transformation’ might feel like somewhat of an outlier on Balloonerism, but it’s a welcome showcase of his crass humour.
12. Manakins
Miller sings about the futility of being a dreamer atop one of the dreamiest arrangements on the album, which makes for a compelling and eerily funny contrast. The luscious instrumentation animates Miller’s philosophizing, which, save for a clumsy line or two, is singularly charming: “God is like the school bell, He gon’ tell you when your time is up.”
13. Rick’s Piano
The result of a “side-splittingly ridiculous exchange” at Rubin’s house, according to Berg, the song’s stream-of-consciousness flow renders it one of the most emotionally piercing and genuinely hopeful moments on the album. It’s not the declaration itself so much as the way he stretches the words “The best is yet to come” that seems to melt away all of the album’s fatalism, which is perhaps why the song’s final line of questioning – “What does death feel like?/ Why does death steal life?” – doesn’t sound so grim. It certainly cuts deep, though, the possibilities dizzying.
14. Tomorrow Will Never Know
Unspooling over 12 minutes, this is the perfect droning conclusion for Balloonerism, proof that Miller was as compelling at his most dejected as he was at his most buoyant. And there’s hardly a moment in his discography where the mood is as despondent as ‘Tomorrow Will Never’, which doesn’t sink into the rapper’s unfiltered thoughts as much as slips right out of the subconscious. The music is ambient and loose and aimless, not necessarily to a fault, until it gives way to the sound of a phone ringing and kids playing – only for the groove to slightly lift again. “See, living and dying are one and the same,” he raps, quoting God Himself. Balloonerism, too, occupies a strange middle ground, but it’s still a pleasure to take in and dissect.