It’s these moments on Balloonerism that make me consider Miller’s far-too-derided frat-rap days. There was a unhappiness that lurked within the songs about partying, getting excessive, and by no means eager to develop up, and his happiness by no means disappeared even when his lyric sheets grew extra lurid and harmful. Miller was at all times each, and Balloonerism expresses his duality, the best way that he might sound like he was smiling, opening up, and really having a very good time amid some grey clouds. Right here is somebody who, only a few years earlier than rapping, “Wealthy as fuck and depressing,” on “Do You Have a Vacation spot?,” was singing, “Life couldn’t get higher/This gon’ be the perfect day ever.”
The downcast but charming temper is especially acute throughout the spare Balloonerism, particularly in distinction to Miller’s different extra fleshed-out tasks. Most songs on the album are constructed round keys, bass, drums, and Miller’s vocals, with the gentlest contact of further manufacturing by Thundercat, Ronald and Jameel Bruner, and Taylor Graves, to deliver the tracks to life. The dusty, soulful beats maintain issues mild even in darker moments. A music like “Shangri-La” gestures towards heaviness, however there’s not sufficient weight to tug it down. Miller, in his pitched-down voice, raps on that monitor, “If I’m dying younger, promise you’ll smile at my funeral,” nevertheless it comes off regular, matter-of-fact, and he balances out his pondering with, “Dwell your life ’trigger you’ll be able to lose tomorrow.” The music, with drums that don’t comply with any guidelines and shiny synths that pop up once they please, seems like a reminiscence of a very good day, distorted from one thing that was as soon as peaceable into one thing extra ethereal.
Balloonerism, having not been formed for business launch, is mainly an album made solely of deep cuts, the little moments the place you are feeling like your favourite artist is making one thing particularly for you as a result of they’re actually simply making it for themselves—like when Miller opens “Humorous Papers” by asking in a foolish, old-Hollywood voice, “Did nobody ever educate you learn how to dance?” The intimacy makes the album a cushty and comforting pay attention, a small portrait of a crestfallen man, not some maudlin assortment from a beloved artist gone too quickly. Miller was a pure melodicist, a fascinating vocalist, and an evocative songwriter, all of that are right here on show. It’s a temper piece, and the temper is nice and sedate.
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