A lost piece of a bigger picture
4/5 Stars
Following his tragic death in 2018, aged only 26, it has proven difficult to convey the true impact of his music on the lives of fans. His diversity and work ethic far exceeded that of his contemporaries in his lifetime within the hip-hop genre. Nowhere is this better proven than in his newest posthumous release, Balloonerism.
Recorded between 2013 and 14 amidst a period of drug binging and depressive struggles, Balloonerism is similar in sonic and thematic tone to that of his 2014 mixtape Faces which saw Miller rapping in a stream of consciousness, detailing the highs and lows of his public life over psychedelic jazzy production. By comparison, Balloonerism feels like peeling back the curtain on Miller as a person, witnessing an intimate and private side that his contemporaries (Kendrick Lamar and Tyler, the Creator for instance) would go on to explore later in their careers. It’s no wonder such a bold statement from the then-22-year-old was lost for so long.
In this almost hour-long project, Miller explores the concepts of life and death, the idealistic simplicity of childhood, and the transition into the complex monotony of adolescence. Numerous songs are deeply nostalgic and reflective, as Miller recalls childhood memories clashing against his present throes with depression, addiction and sobriety. Tracks such as ‘Funny Papers’ and ‘Rick’s Piano’ are especially hard to listen to in retrospect given Miller’s untimely demise, as he contemplates the death of others as well as his own mortality (“What does death feel like?”). He approaches these topics with a candidness that for his age was incredibly brave, despite some reluctance to fully open up emotionally (which he would do on future albums), masking instead with abstract arrangements and vocal manipulations.
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Despite a consistency of emotional despondency in Balloonerism, the spared moments of humour that have provided a distinctive aspect of Miller’s appeal remain present. Whether through tongue-in-cheek song titles (‘Mrs Deborah Downer’ for instance), thematic lines like “my bitch have a nightmare, wake up, made me some cereal/she knows I love my cereal”, or the high spirited cries of “Abracadabra” on ‘Excelsior’, there are moments I found it impossible not to crack a smile.
Compared to Faces and his then-forthcoming releases, Balloonerism is almost devoid of features, save for a prehistoric SZA appearance on ‘DJ’s Chord Organ’ (a song where Miller is absent save for some ad-libs and production), and Dylan Reynolds on the introspective ‘Manakins’. Despite the clear fingerprints of collaborators, such as Thundercat’s bass lines that are dispersed across the project, Balloonerism’s atmosphere is staunchly isolated and vulnerably exposed. Miller would go on to release more refined and upbeat projects, but their seeds are present throughout Baloonerism’s raw aesthetic.
Perhaps one of Balloonerism‘s biggest drawbacks, however, lies in its emotional rawness, which could prove difficult for new or casual listeners. The project is a tough listen; it is so intimate that it can feel incredibly alienating. Look no further than the final song, ‘Tomorrow Will Never Know’, where Miller ponders what occurs after death, both spiritually and physically, before a prolonged and haunting outro plays out over six minutes. Fans looking for the sober contentment and satisfying finality of Miller’s previous posthumous release Circles won’t find that here.
Despite this, I feel that those amongst the student body who, like me, adored Miller’s music in his lifetime, will appreciate this release as a testament to his versatility and bravery as a musician who remains sorely missed. This album, if nothing else, will make you wish he was still here.