On his haunting and touching posthumous album “Circles,” released Jan. 17, Mac Miller managed to do the impossible: say one final goodbye from beyond the grave.
After Miller’s tragic accidental drug overdose on Sept. 7, 2018, both diehard fans and casual listeners were left shocked and devastated. Miller was only 26 at the time of his death. He often talked about his struggles with depression and substance abuse in his songs, leaving fans even more regretful — could something, anything have been done to prevent his sudden passing?
However, from the darkness of this young, promising star’s death came a beacon of hope. In an Instagram post made on Jan. 8, Mac Miller’s family announced that before his untimely death, he had been working on an accompaniment record for his Grammy-nominated album “Swimming.” The album was to be titled “Circles,” a play on the idea of “swimming in circles.” It was bittersweet news — both a stark reminder of tragedy and a moving memory of his legacy.
Obviously, Miller himself was unable to put the finishing touches on the album. Instead, with the blessing of Miller’s family, producer Jon Brion interpreted and assembled Miller’s works to create a single, cohesive album. Brion had been working with Miller before his death, and did his best to keep the tracks as true to Miller’s original intentions as possible.
The album begins quietly and unpretentiously with the title track “Circles;” listeners hear the strumming of a few guitar strings, and a couple electronic chords. Thirty seconds in comes Miller’s understated blur of a voice with an understated blur of a line to match: “Well, this is what it looks like right before you fall,” he mumbles softly. The album’s namesake is sonically very similar to the rest of the album, with subtle production and an almost sleepily slow beat. It would almost be boring, if not for the rawness and poignancy of Miller’s lyrics and voice.
In “Complicated,” Miller mulls over the boring, monotonous struggles of everyday life, commenting: “Some people say they want to live forever/That’s way too long, I’ll just get through today.” In “Good News,” the first single released from the album and first track released after his death, Miller gives simultaneously heartbreaking and optimistic insight into his own life. “I wish that I could get out of my goddamn way,” he laments, revealing it’s his own bad decisions trapping him in these “circles.” He continues to introspectively take responsibility, seemingly mocking himself with “There ain’t a better time than today/ But maybe I’ll lay down for a little, yeah.” This track is satisfying in all the right ways — it makes you want to dance and laugh and it makes you want to cry and scream. The juxtaposition of these intensely conflicting emotions is what makes the seemingly simple “Good News” so powerful and so good.
“Circles” sticks out sharply on the current hip-hop charts, especially lyrically. Miller’s lyrics are deeply personal and poetic, a far cry from materialistic verses often heard topping the charts. Overall, the vulnerability and confessional nature of his writing is stunning. The minimal production was all that was needed — his lyrics spoke for themselves.
On its own, the album is great: a bold whisper, a declaration with a period. But within the context of Miller’s death, every line, every complaint, every mention of death hits that much harder; the album goes from great to gut-wrenching. As a listener who knows exactly when the circle ends, the album becomes something beautiful: an intensely soft, heartbreakingly joyous, wondrously painful and a pointlessly hopeful goodbye. It is one last smile, one last nod and a reassuring wave from a man on the other side.
