An Overanalysis by T-Rod
I didn’t get into Mac Miller’s music until much later than most.
Not that I disliked the guy; it was just an area of hip-hop that I never really got into when I became a music nerd. Swimming was my intro to the man’s brand of jazzy, smooth and charismatic rap music. I remember bumping songs from this record like “What’s the Use” and “Self Care” in the car, appreciating the finesse behind the record’s pristine production and Mac’s blend of confidence and vulnerability. Above all, it felt like hearing a man standing in the void, discussing the problems that anchored him there all while laughing it off.
And shortly after, he passed away. It was devastating for the music world at large; even a newbie like me to his tunes could see the tragedy behind his death. But much as this tragic loss caused so much pain, I think it spurred a second wind of appreciation for the man’s innovative approach to music, his careful craft and demeanor. Even today, deep cuts like “Small Worlds” and “Jet Fuel” are considered elite tracks both hardcore and casual music fans will get behind.
I’ve talked about Mac before; Faces is one of my favorite mixtapes ever, Circles was a hint at the fantastic songwriting and genre-crossing highs Mac would hit. And yet, if I had to say what’s Mac’s most important project to me, it’d be this one.
6 years seperate from its release, I think Swimming defines “isolation” music. Mac’s lyrics consistently tackle pain and pleasure, but most roads he travels on those topics go back to him. Coupled with the airy, ethereal production I almost picture him singing songs like “Wings” and “Come Back to Earth” in that same existential blank space Squidward was in during that one Spongebob episode. That sounds goofy, but that’s the visual I get, especially considering how that isolation is framed as nightmarish, even scary on “Self Care.” It’s beautiful, but eerie.
And yet the whole time, there’s also something really poignant about that void. The contrast between some of Mac’s heaviest songwriting is matched by some of his most vibrant production choices, ala “What’s the Use” or “Ladders.” The attitude on this album is just a sheepish shrug: life can suck, but we all keep swimming. A moment of triumph like the beautiful “2009” doesn’t cap the album, but the inconclusive and almost nonchalant “So It Goes” does. The world is gonna keep spinning and pain will keep coming, despite how far you’ve come.
Some may find that lack of conclusion or finding of peace to be unfulfilling, but I think that’s what makes Swimming special. It’s human, entirely focused on the self and the reality that life isn’t ever perfect. It’s not finding peace by completely erasing your demons, it’s finding peace with them still hanging around.
