One of my biggest musical regrets is not having enough respect for Mac Miller during the late artist’s all too short life.
To be clear, I don’t feel this way any longer, but when Miller was first coming up in popularity, I lumped him in with other lame, white dude rappers like Asher Roth and Hoodie Allen, rappers who could produce squeaky clean pop hits and not much else.
Mac Miller wasn’t that. He was a real, talented rapper. But toward the end of his life, Miller showed that he was becoming something even more: a true voice of a generation.
“Swimming,” the final record Miller released during his life, showed that transition begin to take place. It’s a marked transition in his career, with Miller creating what were, at that point, some of his smoothest, most emotional songs.
Now, more than a year after Miller’s September 2018 death, his estate has released his posthumous record, “Circles,” and it is nothing short of a gut-punch.
A stunningly beautiful record, “Circles” makes for a heartbreaking listen, as Miller sounds earnestly committed to overcoming the drug addiction that eventually killed him. In this way, “Circles,” a record that was largely finished before Miller’s death, stops being about what could be and instead becomes about what could have been.
Part of what makes “Circles” such an emotional listen is the quiet, soft hopefulness that permeates through all of the songs. While this collection of songs is about mental anguish, often but not always connected to addiction, the songs are also about keeping a brave face in spite of any adversities.
The high emotions start early. The album starts off easy, with the slow, laid-back title track, but Miller’s lyrics belie a desire to change, but the fear that he can’t.
On the album’s second cut, “Complicated,” Miller raps: “Some people say they want to live forever./ That’s way too long, I’ll just get through today,/ without any complications.”
And before we get much further, I do want to say an album like this is going to be fodder for a certain kind of music journalist, the kind who will parse through this record with a fine-tooth comb in an attempt to find the line that is the saddest outside of the context of the song.
I want to be clear that that is not what I’m trying to do. Instead, I think it’s important to look at “Circles” as what is likely to be final complete statement from Miller. And that statement is, unfortunately, inextricably linked to the mental demons that eventually led to Miller’s death.
In spite of this, I find “Circles” to be a deeply inspirational record. A big portion of this comes from the beautiful instrumentation that backs Miller’s vocals.
Smooth, soulful instrumental parts bounce in the background of nearly every track, and nearly all of them are as dreamy as they are sunny. The simply masterful production of Miller and Jon Brion, who completed the record after Miller’s death, breathes a joyful sort of life into these songs. While Miller’s lyrics focus extensively on the darkness of his inner thoughts, the joyful production makes the whole thing feel so beautifully hopeful.
The album all feels to circle — I know, I’m sorry — around the song “Good News,” the album’s first single. With lightly plucked strings and whispery vocals from Miller, it’s a harrowing song about how down Miller feels, but that people only want to hear good news from him.
“Well it ain’t that bad,” he says toward the end of the third verse, clearly trying to cover up his feelings for the people who only wanted to hear the good news. If only things weren’t that bad.
I feel as though I’m struggling to make a coherent point about this record, and I think it’s because the sheer power of the emotions are incredibly difficult to put into words.
“Circles” is different from most posthumous releases — the recent and criminally awful “Bad Vibes Forever” from the late XXXTentacion is a perfect example — in that it truly feels like it’s coming from Miller himself. It feels like Miller himself is speaking to us, eulogizing himself.
And “Circles” is like that unspeakably emotional moment in a funeral when the eulogist makes you laugh, and you’re suddenly crying harder than you were but you’re also laughing, and your face doesn’t know if it wants to smile or frown. That wordless emotion is the razor-edge “Circles” operates on for the entirety of its 48 minute run time.
It’s a difficult listen, one that left me with tears in my eyes throughout the majority of it. But, my God, if it isn’t beautiful.
Listen to “Circles.” It’s the first important album of the decade.
