Album Review: Balloonerism

The Balloonerism album cover, painted by Alim Smith.

Balloonerism, was released a little over three weeks ago and in the time I have listened to this second posthumous album from Mac Miller it feels like a curtain has been pulled back revealing Macs creative soul during one of the most transitional periods of his career. Recorded back in 2014 but shelved in favor of projects like Faces, this album feels like rediscovering an old journal from a friend you deeply miss. The rawness, imperfections, and emotional weight of the music reflect a man searching for meaning while wrestling with the weight of his demons.

This album hits hard because it feels so personal. From the eerie line "Didn’t think anyone died on a Friday" in "Funny Papers" to the sprawling, ambient farewell of "Tomorrow Will Never Know," Balloonerism lays bare Mac’s thoughts on mortality, addiction, and self-doubt. But it’s not all heavy—Mac’s signature humor and ability to find beauty in the mundane shine through. “What ever happened to apple juice and cartwheels?” he asks in "Excelsior," tugging at that universal longing for the simplicity of childhood.

Even when Mac takes you to dark places, he never leaves you there alone. His words remind you that he was just as human as the rest of us—vulnerable, flawed, but endlessly creative.

Musically, Balloonerism is unlike anything else. It’s loose, experimental, and dreamy—kind of like floating in and out of different memories. Jazz rap and neo-soul influences dominate, with tracks like “5 Dollar Pony Rides” (one of my favorites) that balances jazzy, heartwarming melodies with bittersweet lyrics about love and regret. It’s no wonder they released that song two weeks early. As for songs like “DJ’s Chord Organ,” featuring SZA, I was so disturbed at first by the use of the chord organ and the dark themes of the song that SZA’s feature didn’t feel as impactful as it could have. But I still appreciate Mac for being so ahead of the time and incorporating SZA before she become known as the SZA we know today.

The album’s unpolished sound feels intentional, kind of like you’re sitting in the studio with Mac while he works through his ideas and dilemmas about life. Collaborators like Thundercat and SZA don’t overshadow him in this album but instead enhance the vibe, giving moments of richness and texture. Whether it’s the ghostly echoes on “Transformations” or the playful yet melancholic tambourine rhythm on “Tambourine Dream,” the music sticks with you, not because it’s perfect but because it’s real.

The best thing about Balloonerism is how true it feels to Mac. Unlike many posthumous releases that can feel overly polished or pieced together, this album respects his vision. It doesn’t try to clean up his imperfections… it leans into them, letting his humanity and creativity shine.

For longtime fans, it’s like reconnecting with an old friend you didn’t know you’d missed this much. For newer listeners, it’s an intimate introduction to the raw, experimental side of Mac’s artistry. Either way, Balloonerism bridges the gap between his earlier, playful work and the introspection of albums like Circles. It’s bittersweet, messy, and deeply moving. Some might say a little too moving, especially with one of the last songs on the album “Rick’s Piano” that forces you to question “what does death feel like?” with his repetition of the line over and over and over. Mac Miller makes you really question everything.

Balloonerism isn’t just a collection of songs—it’s an experience. It reminds us of why Mac Miller meant so much to so many people. He wasn’t afraid to be vulnerable, to explore the parts of life that are messy and uncomfortable, or to laugh at himself along the way. This album is a tribute to his growth as an artist and a person, and it’s a gift to anyone who’s ever felt lost, nostalgic, or simply human.

Listening to Balloonerism feels like having a conversation with Mac one last time. It’s beautiful, heartbreaking, and full of life.

A fitting reminder of the legacy he left behind.