Balloonerism

It’s these moments on Balloonerism that make me think of Miller’s far-too-derided frat-rap days. There was a sadness that lurked in the songs about partying, getting high, and never wanting to grow up, and his happiness never disappeared even when his lyric sheets grew more lurid and dangerous. Miller was always both, and Balloonerism expresses his duality, the way that he could sound like he was smiling, opening up, and truly having a good time amid some gray clouds. Here is someone who, just a few years before rapping, “Rich as fuck and miserable,” on “Do You Have a Destination?,” was singing, “Life couldn’t get better/This gon’ be the best day ever.”

The downcast yet charming mood is particularly acute across the spare Balloonerism, especially in contrast to Miller’s other more fleshed-out projects. Most songs on the album are built around keys, bass, drums, and Miller’s vocals, with the gentlest touch of additional production by Thundercat, Ronald and Jameel Bruner, and Taylor Graves, to bring the tracks to life. The dusty, soulful beats keep things light even in darker moments. A song like “Shangri-La” gestures toward heaviness, but there’s not enough weight to drag it down. Miller, in his pitched-down voice, raps on that track, “If I’m dying young, promise you’ll smile at my funeral,” but it comes off steady, matter-of-fact, and he balances out his thinking with, “Live your life ’cause you can lose tomorrow.” The song, with drums that don’t follow any rules and bright synths that pop up when they please, feels like a memory of a good day, distorted from something that was once peaceful into something more ethereal.

Balloonerism, having not been shaped for commercial release, is basically an album made exclusively of deep cuts, the little moments where you feel like your favorite artist is making something especially for you because they’re really just making it for themselves—like when Miller opens “Funny Papers” by asking in a silly, old-Hollywood voice, “Did no one ever teach you how to dance?” The intimacy makes the album a comfortable and comforting listen, a small portrait of a crestfallen guy, not some maudlin collection from a beloved artist gone too soon. Miller was a natural melodicist, a captivating vocalist, and an evocative songwriter, all of which are here on display. It’s a mood piece, and the mood is sweet and sedate.

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