Mac Miller would be celebrating his 30th birthday today. More than three years after his fateful overdose, that sentiment undoubtedly reopens old wounds for his family, friends, and fans. The late Pittsburgh artist often documented his long-lasting battle with addiction, and as a result, it can sometimes be hard to revisit his music, even on days as momentous as this. There is an astonishing amount of haunting lyrics sprinkled throughout his catalog, from admissions like “I need to wake up/Before one mornin' I don't wake up” on the GO:OD AM deep cut “Perfect Circle/God Speed” to the tragic “I might die before I detox” line on “Malibu” from his 2014 mixtape Faces. Beyond the prevalent instances of songs foreshadowing his untimely passing, however, Mac Miller’s music also explored existential concepts such as the inevitability of death and the true meaning of life, a tendency that he once revealed to Complex was his favorite thing to do. In memory of the late rapper and in honor of what would have been a landmark birthday for him, we embrace his “most cherished past-time” by analyzing the evolution of his perspectives on life and death.
Wide-eyed optimism
“No matter where life takes me, find me with a smile/Pursuit to be happy, only laughin' like a child”
Although Mac Miller would eventually become known for creating music that sought out answers to some of life’s most daunting questions, his early output was originally characterized as nothing more than frat rap. Mixtapes like K.I.D.S. and Best Day Ever didn’t show any signs that Mac Miller would grow into the artist that he was at the time of his passing, but even during his breakout era at the top of the 2010s, the Most Dope rapper offered his perspective on how people should live their lives. As one would probably expect from the sugary sonic makeup of tracks like “Best Day Ever,” Mac Miller’s early philosophy on life reeked of wide-eyed optimism. On other Best Day Ever tracks like “Get Up” and “Life Ain’t Easy,” Mac argued that even though life will knock us down, there are two types of people in this world: those who get up and keep living and those who let their troubles consume their lives. Staying positive regardless of what life throws your way is an inspiring, yet black-and-white, outlook that’s arguably more likely to be accepted by teenagers than adults, but that perspective is largely what defined much of Mac’s work pre-Blue Slide Park.
While rare, the topic of death and the afterlife also came up from time to time. On K.I.D.S., Mac Miller dedicated “Poppy” to his late grandfather, and over the course of the track, Mac details his longing to be reconnected with him and mentions the pain of having to come to terms with his death. Also, on I Love Life, Thank You’s fourth track “The Scoop on Heaven,” he dives deeper into what happens when our loved ones pass away by imagining aloud what heaven would look like. Similar to his early outlook on life, Mac’s understanding of death was also ultimately rooted in positivity.
Songs to revisit: “Best Day Ever,” “Get Up,” “Life Ain’t Easy,” “Poppy,” and “The Scoop on Heaven”
Nihilism
“I'm askin', ‘What am I supposed to do?’/Done so much in my short lifetime, but I haven't done shit.”
Shortly after the release of Blue Slide Park, there was a distinct shift in Mac Miller’s style, and although the dark, drug-inspired soundscape of Macadelic would do wonders in broadening Mac’s growing fanbase, that mixtape also introduced listeners to an artist who was less concerned with exuding positivity and far more worried about deconstructing what life was really about. While they range from somewhat inspirational tunes about time to downright bleak songs about the insignificance of our existences, Macadelic tracks like “Thoughts from a Balcony,” and “The Question,” and “1 Threw 8” were plagued with open-ended questions that Mac would explore over the next two years of his career.
However, the curious nature of Macadelic was quickly replaced with an uncharacteristically nihilistic outlook on both Watching Movies With The Sound Off and Faces. Mac Miller’s music showcased an ideology that welcomed death at any moment and heavily hinted that life didn’t matter. When speaking on the Earl Sweatshirt-produced “I’m Not Real” with Genius, Mac goes as far as to say, “I just don’t believe I am an actual person. I’m actually just an idea to everybody. We don’t actually exist as people to anybody, we exist thru the ideas that we give to the world.”
Understandably, the music during that era was noticeably darker, with an increased amount of references to his eventual death. On “Happy Birthday,” Mac Miller uses sarcasm to show that he’s entirely uninterested in celebrating another year of his life, and on songs like “Funeral” and “Colors and Shapes” toyed with the idea of letting go of worldly issues and doing whatever one desires. Yet, in contrast to his early output, death seems to elicit more pain and hopelessness in Mac Miller, although he attempts to embrace it on several occasions. Both “REMember” from Watching Movies and “Rain” from Faces reveal the Pittsburgh rapper’s struggle to cope with the passing of his friends, which is arguably what led him to his more nuanced perspective of life and death in the final years of his life.
Songs to revisit: “Thoughts from a Balcony,” “The Question,” “1 Threw 8,” “SDS,” “I’m Not Real,” “REMember,” “Happy Birthday,” “Funeral,” “Colors & Shapes,” ‘Rain,” “Grand Finale,” and “Yeah”
A pained appreciation of life
“What's between heaven and hell?/A brand new me”
The last stretch of Mac Miller’s career began with 2015’s GO:OD AM and concluded with his posthumously released Swimming companion album Circles. Over the span of four albums, Mac’s sound shifted tremendously, but contrarily, his outlook on life didn’t change too much. Rather, it was refined from the newfound hope that characterized his approach on GO:OD AM, to the more pained appreciation of life presented on Swimming and Circles. On “Doors,” “Rush Hour,” and several other cuts from his third studio album, Mac explicitly details his desire to grow old and appreciate the time that he has on Earth, but he also reminds listeners that pain is unavoidable. Yet unlike his “dust yourself off and try again” attitude during his early output, Mac Miller makes no effort to gloss over how horrible life can be. His lyrics on tracks like “Ascension” suggest that although heaven and hell-like pressures affect everyone, life is the result of braving through that adversity.
On his final two studio albums, life’s troubles and the looming presence of death are what take center stage. For the first time in his career, Mac Miller’s music seemed to truly reflect the idea of death being an absolute that must be accepted, rather than being a blessing in disguise or an irreparable source of pain. As he sings on “Everybody,” “Everybody's gotta live/And everybody's gonna die/Everybody’s gonna try to have a good, good time/I think you know the reason why.” Thus, Mac Miller’s unbiased acceptance of death arguably influences his outlook on life in his later work. Taking care of himself, understanding that life has its up and downs, and still aiming to remain hopeful are themes that are present on tracks like “Self Care,” “Ladders,” and “Complicated,” and in a way, that perspective represents a full-circle moment for Mac. After enduring a period of thinking that nothing in this life matters and that death is the ultimate “fuck you” from the universe, Mac Miller returned to a more realistic optimistic viewpoint. Instead of forcing himself to smile through all of life’s hardships, he realized the proximity of death makes every day, good or bad, worth living.
Songs to revisit: “Doors,” “Rush Hour,” “Two Matches,” “Ascension,” “Jump,” “Self Care,” “Ladders,” “Come Back To Earth,” “Good News,” “Everybody,” “Complicated,” and “I Can See”
Happy 30th birthday, Mac Miller. You have been truly missed.
