It’s these moments on Balloonerism that make me consider Miller’s far-too-derided frat-rap days. There was a disappointment 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 all the time each, and Balloonerism expresses his duality, the way in which that he may sound like he was smiling, opening up, and actually having a very good time amid some grey clouds. Right here is somebody who, just some 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 one of the best 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 gentle even in darker moments. A tune like “Shangri-La” gestures towards heaviness, however there’s not sufficient weight to pull it down. Miller, in his pitched-down voice, raps on that observe, “If I’m dying younger, promise you’ll smile at my funeral,” however it comes off regular, matter-of-fact, and he balances out his considering with, “Dwell your life ’trigger you possibly can lose tomorrow.” The tune, with drums that don’t comply with any guidelines and vivid synths that pop up after they please, looks 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 industrial launch, is principally 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 the way 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 charming vocalist, and an evocative songwriter, all of that are right here on show. It’s a temper piece, and the temper is good and sedate.
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