Follow me on Twitter: @ArmandTSparks
I never knew Mac Miller. He never knew me. But through what would unfortunately be his last chain of releases and work leading up to and succeeding his magnum opus "Swimming" -- "Inertia," "Hurt Feelings" (Live at The Hotel Cafe), his "Ladders" performance on The Late Show with Stephen Colbert and carrying out the recording arrangement for JID's "Skrawberries" I got to know, or at least better understand what truly made Mac happy.
It was music.
Obviously we know this. But it's everything about music if you're a true artist: It's the spirit and act of collaboration for collaboration's sake. It's being a showman through audience connection and feeling the music. It's the act of making the art you picture in your head exactly right or damn close to it. And perhaps most importantly, it's a space entirely for bars.
The latter happens on Thelonious Martin's "Guidelines." The two Malcolm's come together like the wonder twins to incubate Martin's ghostly production and Miller's sharp-witted verses. Snapback in Thelonious's drums soup up the human timing touching the viscid rhythm to liken it something closer to a cyborg. Mac Miller's foreboding chorus is very on brand, for better or worse, hearkening back to a level of self-aware writing that hasn't made me this anxious since "God Speed." Metaphors, flow, wordplay, similes and references glide past and at you, hiding life's game the only way Mac Miller knows how, when I'm forced to do a double-take back to previous bars to pick up on and make sense of the next line. Mac Miller, with his high IQ and talent as a musician, producer and ear seemingly closer to that of a composer, was a rapper's rapper at his core. A student effortlessly able to pass the test with flying colors. And even through a web of his darkest bars, Mac Miller sounded in his element -- comfortable and happy to just rap.
I never knew Mac Miller. He never knew me. But the day the two Malcolm's dropped "Guidelines" for the sake of collaboration, they left another key touchstone to knowing Mac Miller through his first love, exemplifying why he was one of the best to ever do it.
Listen to "Guidelines" below.
Lead Photo Cred: soundcloud.com
Video Creds: youtube.com / Sam Balaban
I never knew Mac Miller. He never knew me. But through what would unfortunately be his last chain of releases and work leading up to and succeeding his magnum opus "Swimming" -- "Inertia," "Hurt Feelings" (Live at The Hotel Cafe), his "Ladders" performance on The Late Show with Stephen Colbert and carrying out the recording arrangement for JID's "Skrawberries" I got to know, or at least better understand what truly made Mac happy.
It was music.
Obviously we know this. But it's everything about music if you're a true artist: It's the spirit and act of collaboration for collaboration's sake. It's being a showman through audience connection and feeling the music. It's the act of making the art you picture in your head exactly right or damn close to it. And perhaps most importantly, it's a space entirely for bars.
The latter happens on Thelonious Martin's "Guidelines." The two Malcolm's come together like the wonder twins to incubate Martin's ghostly production and Miller's sharp-witted verses. Snapback in Thelonious's drums soup up the human timing touching the viscid rhythm to liken it something closer to a cyborg. Mac Miller's foreboding chorus is very on brand, for better or worse, hearkening back to a level of self-aware writing that hasn't made me this anxious since "God Speed." Metaphors, flow, wordplay, similes and references glide past and at you, hiding life's game the only way Mac Miller knows how, when I'm forced to do a double-take back to previous bars to pick up on and make sense of the next line. Mac Miller, with his high IQ and talent as a musician, producer and ear seemingly closer to that of a composer, was a rapper's rapper at his core. A student effortlessly able to pass the test with flying colors. And even through a web of his darkest bars, Mac Miller sounded in his element -- comfortable and happy to just rap.
I never knew Mac Miller. He never knew me. But the day the two Malcolm's dropped "Guidelines" for the sake of collaboration, they left another key touchstone to knowing Mac Miller through his first love, exemplifying why he was one of the best to ever do it.
Listen to "Guidelines" below.
Lead Photo Cred: soundcloud.com
Video Creds: youtube.com / Sam Balaban
Comments
Post a Comment