Mac Miller: Come Back to Earth

My cousin lived 5 to 10 minutes away before I moved. His name was Tre and he was more of a big brother. My family used to be at his house 24/7, and vice versa. Tre was my ultimate plug for anything really, he was one of the few people in my youth that I could legitimately talk to for hours at a time even with him being 5 years older. Our normal conversations were about football, but on one peculiar day it was a little different. He had a new artist for me to listen to. Granted, I didn’t have a huge passion for music back then but anything with a good beat and flow caught my eye. He showed me Donald Trump by Mac Miller. Miller was his favorite up and coming artist at the time. We both smiled, bobbing our heads to the tune, trying to keep our hype down from our parents who were only a door away in the kitchen. It felt good. I wish I could go back to that time.
Yesterday, Mac Miller was pronounced dead, with the cause of death being a drug overdose. I’m broken, and I’m really at a loss of words. In 2014 Mac Miller released what I believe to be the most underrated mixtape of the decade, Faces. On it’s three year anniversary, Miller tweeted “I was nowhere on Earth when I made Faces. Nowhere close.” The mixtape is full of great vibes, lyrics and catchy choruses but it is also laced with extensive drug references. I keep thinking to myself, how did we not see this coming? The signs were all there. But were they? It was clear every time Mac had an issue, he knew it, his family knew it, his fans knew it, and we were all worried. He always had a way of calming us down though. On his album GO:OD AM Mac literally told us “they don’t want me to OD and have to talk to my mother telling her they could have done more to help me and she’ll be crying saying that she’ll do anything to have me back.” It showed he was aware of everyone’s concern.
When he gave his XXL interview three years ago, with the help of Rick Rubin he seemed to catch himself. Miller said “I didn’t go to rehab, I went to Rick Rubin’s house.” He continued “Rick was someone that was really instrumental in helping me get to a better place … we just really hit it off and built a good relationship.” I felt reassured, Mac had heard our pleas for him to take care of himself. There was a time of peace, or so we thought, we don’t know what was going on behind the closed doors of Miller’s life. But it seemed like tranquility.

Prior to this year, Mac Miller hadn’t released a project since 2016. That album was The Divine Feminine. A project that takes you on a drive through Miller’s love life. You get to see the highs of romance and the lows of heartbreak. After this, Miller found love in his then girlfriend Ariana Grande. During this time, Miller went ghost, once his tour concluded he drifted away into a mysterious abyss far from the limelight. There were photos with him and Ms. Grande, but there were no raps, no updates on his health, nothing.

News came in May. Grande and Miller had called it quits. Six days after TMZ reported the breakup more news came. On May 15 of this year, Mac was arrested for DUI, and reportedly doubled the legal drinking limit. It all came crashing so fast. And with things appearing to be going downhill my worry for Mac returned. Two weeks later, Miller released three new songs, giving me hope that there would be an answer to my wondering thoughts on his health.
I loved the trio. But it didn’t give me answer, I didn’t get it until mid July, when he announced his album with his lead single Self Care. Self Care was what I wanted to hear from Miller, he ends his first two verses with the words I needed to hear. “Self care, I’m treating me right, hell yea, we’re gonna be alright / we gonna be good.” The lines were as reassuring as your mother giving you a hug when you fell and scraped your knee for the first time. On the same day Self Care released, Miller also announced his new album, entitled Swimming, the project would release on August 3. His second single, What’s the Use was released two weeks later, it was more bouncy and had an uplifting sound. Again, the positive lyrics were back, “you can love it, you can leave it, and say you’re nothing without it, don’t let them keep you down.” I began to theorize that his album would be a beautiful wave filled with perseverance and splashes of overcoming adversity.

I bought Miller’s album bundle because I was excited for him as a person and as a fan. When the third day in August came around, I played Swimming at least seven times before the sun went down. On his opening track Come back to Earth Mac says “I was drowning but now I’m swimming, through stressful waters to relief.” It just felt so promising. In his interview with Zane Lowe, Mac had amazing energy, far from what you would expect from a guy who had just had a DUI and a breakup. Lowe wasn’t the only one who saw Miller’s aura. Go watch his Tiny Desk Concert, he looks like he’s floating on an imaginary cloud of harmony and composure. I couldn’t wait for his tour, I had planned to purchase the meet and greet package to finally say that I was happy for him. Happy that he was overcoming whatever was plaguing him.
That all ended 24 hours ago. I can’t help but think of Miller’s 2016 mini-documentary with The Fader. Mac is sitting in a studio with French Montana, he’s holding a bottle of what I assume to be lean. Montana is trying to talk him out of drinking it, to which Miller responds “this is perfect.” The next clip is Miller talking over the background video of him pouring the lean saying “I’d rather be the corny white rapper than the drugged-out mess who can’t even get out of his house. Overdosing is not cool. There’s no legendary romance. You don’t go down in history because you overdose. You just die.” It hurts to hear those words and it hurts even more to type them. It hurts to sit here and add Mac Miller to the long line of amazing people gone too soon due to drugs. Michael Jackson, Prince, Whitney Houston, Heath Ledger, Amy Winehouse and now Mac Miller. I still can’t believe it. Too many times his songs have provided a breath of fresh air when my mind is hyperventilating. As I’m sitting here writing, J. Cole’s song Friends is being played in the room next to me, how ironic. The second verse just hit me in my chest.
“You running from yourself and buying product again, I know you say it helps and no I’m not trying to offend, but I know depression and drug addiction don’t blend, reality distorts and then you get lost in the wind, and I done seen the combo take n*ggas off the deep end.” — Friends
I think that from this point on, every time Friends is played, I’ll think of Mac Miller. His death doesn’t make any sense to me right now, and I don’t know if I’ll ever understand it. The only thing that’s going through my head is thoughts of proving Mac Miller wrong. He said that you don’t go down in history because you overdose, that is incorrect. He will go down in history as someone who was gone way too soon, he’ll be remembered for his marvelous talents, the amazing music he’s released, the people he’s helped and the time we were able to share with such an incredible man.
Rest easy, Mr. Miller.

