Mac Miller performing in UCSB’s The Hub in 2011. (Courtesy of Associated Students Program Board)

Exactly five years after the release of his last posthumous album, the estate of beloved rapper Mac Miller has released “Balloonerism,” an album that has spent over a decade in the making — much to the delight of music fans across the world, including those at UC Santa Barbara. 

“Balloonerism” is the second album to be released after Miller’s passing in 2018, and is what many expect to be the final album released by his estate. Initially created in 2014, the album was never fully finished, although Miller did commission and approve the cover art, according to a statement published by his family. Unofficial and leaked versions of the album have been spread across the internet for years, with many fans wondering if it would ever truly see the light of day. 

That question was finally answered at 2024’s Camp Flog Gnaw, with a teaser trailer announcing the release of the album and an accompanying short film being played before a performance by Miller’s friend and collaborator Tyler, the Creator. Exactly five years after the release of previous posthumous album “Circles,” “Balloonerism” has been released to a mixture of acclaim and raw emotion from fans. 

Despite the fact that a majority of UCSB students were either in middle school or their early years of high school when Miller passed, the rapper’s impact remains undeniably prevalent. An on-campus gathering in UCSB’s University Center hosted by Associated Students Program Board on Friday night proved that, with dozens gathering to hear “Balloonerism” amongst the company of fellow fans and devotees. 

Miller was no stranger to Santa Barbara and Isla Vista, playing a solo show at the Santa Barbara Bowl in 2012, and even visiting UCSB and headlining The Hub in November of 2011. In the exact same building that he played in some 14 years prior, a few dozen students gathered to honor the life, legacy and music that Miller made. 

A musician is only gone until their music starts playing, bringing them back to life,” shared A.S. Program Board Volunteers Coordinator and third-year communication major Caitlin Morris. The listening party was brought together by a group of Program Board members and Mac Miller fans, each dedicated to helping further spread the rapper’s already impressive legacy. 

“His music carries a sense of empathy, nostalgia and relatability that young people who may be struggling during their formative years can connect with,” Morris further detailed. These themes, prevalent in his early works and the final albums released in Miller’s life, are also ripe throughout “Balloonerism.”

The event began with a bout of trivia on Miller, his origins in Pittsburgh and his 11-year career. Balloons were set up throughout the room (in line with the album’s title), and merchandise and vinyl copies throughout Miller’s discography were given to his most knowledgeable fans. As the listening party finally began, fans scattered themselves throughout The Hub and prepared themselves for an emotional experience.

Opening with a 30-second tambourine performance (presumably by Miller himself), the album shifts to “DJ’s Chord Organ,” a collaboration with two musical legends — Thundercat and SZA. In an emotional Instagram story shared earlier this month, SZA disclosed that the song had not been changed or edited from its original recording, writing that it “didn’t seem right to change it.” While listeners will never know what Miller fully intended for “Balloonerism,” it is evident that the priority of this release was to include very little change and keep the final result as close to Miller’s existing tracks and previous works as possible. 

The album is, quite frankly, eerie, with several lines almost prophesying Miller’s death at the age of 26. “Don’t think anybody ever died on a Friday,” Miller quips in “Funny Papers.” What was once intended to be a passing joke feels eerie, as Miller would later pass from an accidental overdose on Friday, Sept. 7, 2018. The album’s conclusion ends with the dial of a phone, ringing for minutes unanswered, an obvious resemblance  for Miller’s sudden passing that is, simply put, haunting. 

When Miller later remarks in “Do You Have A Destination?” that he “gave his life to this shit,” when thinking about his extensive music catalog,  it feels almost impossible to disagree. Miller signed his first record deal in 2010 and passed in 2018, but managed to accumulate a vast discography before then, including five full-length albums (seven, if you include “Circles” and “Balloonerism,” which were worked on but not fully finished during his lifetime). He was consistently referred to by his friends and colleagues as one of the hardest working men in music and collaborated with a wide variety of artists, from Donald Glover to John Mayer to Ariana Grande. 

Still, Miller frequently downplays himself and his career throughout “Balloonerism,” rapping, “Shit, I ain’t an innovator, just a motherfuckin’ illustrator” on “Funny Papers” and is more open about his past with alcohol and substance abuse than in any other album. “Manakins” is perhaps the most haunting of any of Miller’s songs. In it, the rapper imagines and alludes to his own death, describing himself at the scene of a car accident and warning listeners that “God is like the school bell, He gon’ tell you when your time is up.” The themes of life and death are incredibly potent through “Balloonerism,” making it a harrowing and often difficult listen. 

“If I die young / promise to smile at my funeral,” Miller asks in a distorted voice in “Shangri-La,” going on to reference many pieces of media that reflect his state and mental well-being at the time, including traditional New Orleans’ folk song “House of the Rising Sun,” about a man who falls victim to his vices. Reflections on Miller’s youth are made throughout the album, despite originally being written in his early twenties. “Me, I used to want to be a wizard” and  “… when did life get so serious? / Whatever happened to apple juice and cartwheels?” are lyrics he shares in “Excelsior.” Ironically, in a song about fantasy and wishing for the days of childhood whimsy, Miller credits his alter-ego Delusional Thomas as a co-vocalist, almost putting him in the role of an imaginary friend.  

While “Balloonerism” is beyond rich with its lyrics, references, abstract tone and sheer abundance of noise, Miller’s voice is often hidden through a hefty amount of distortion and pitch lowering. The instrumentals and production — while powerful, loud and almost psychedelic in sound — tend to smother the rapper. On what is likely to be his last release, it is almost difficult at times to hear and feel the impact of Miller’s own voice and words.

But perhaps this is the point — Miller lived a life that was anything but clear and was a man of many layers. The young man from Pittsburgh who was initially categorized as a “frat-rap” creator changed drastically throughout each of his albums and mixtapes. Critics may have dismissed “Blue Side Park” and “K.I.D.S.,” but it became  impossible to ignore the art that Miller would produce later in his career. “The Divine Feminine” was a drastic change from Miller’s usual style with its cover art alone, delving in styles of jazz and alternative music. “Swimming,” the final album to be released in Miller’s lifetime, is an incredibly introspective piece from a man who once proclaimed himself to be the “flyest ma’fucker in the room,” now defining himself as someone who’s “been a fool,” but “That’s what human beings do.” 

The humor, youth and exploration that defined Miller’s early works and life is abundant in the 1.86 square mile radius that is Isla Vista. You can feel it when a car rolls by, occupants crowding the windows, screaming every word as Miller speeds his way through “The Spins.” A Friday night pregame never feels complete without a listening of “Weekend,” and a playing of “Knock Knock” is guaranteed to result in synchronized stomping and pounding of fists. 

But like Miller’s life and musical evolution, Isla Vista and the overall college experience contain multitudes. Although written specifically about Miller’s own struggles, later tracks like “Self Care,” “Hand Me Downs” and “Small Worlds” reflect anxieties and emotions felt by us all throughout our early years — anxiety, depression, grief and loneliness. 

“Balloonerism” is tough to process — even after several listens and the process of writing this article, I find myself not quite having the words to describe this album and the rawness that it entails. But a majority of fans feel the same way about Miller — to some he was larger than life, a prodigy taken too soon, now an undisputed legend of music. To others, he was just Mac. 

8.5/10

This appeared in the Jan. 30 print edition of the Daily Nexus.

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