Good News by Mac Miller

Anybody who has been a long-time reader of my posts knows how much I care about Mac Miller and the musical legacy he left behind. Underappreciated during his time and recently discovered by many after his passing, there has always been more to him than people assumed. Even when I first started listening to his music and went to a concert on his Divine Feminine tour in 2016, I was under the impression that he was vulgar and overly explicit, and that his music left a lot to be desired. Looking back now, my first impression wasn’t entirely off, especially considering that The Divine Feminine is one of his raunchiest and most shallow albums. However, I eventually listened through his discography and found something strange; there was an innocence and relatability to Mac Miller, and a story that was more complicated than first realized. Eventually he released Swimming, his last album before passing, which was a somber and existential monument to his musical talent. Just recently his producer released the posthumous album Circles, which was well received by critics and fans alike. In my opinion, it didn’t encapsulate the personality of Mac Miller like Swimming did, but it gave the world his final gift: Good News. Released as a single before the album, Good News is by far the shining star, and is a tear-jerking farewell to the life of Mac Miller.

The simple, plucky instrumental that introduces the track is catchy and subtle, and is followed up by the gentle voice of Mac Miller himself. Immediately the tone of the song is set; it’s an intimate and vulnerable look into his emotional state, with a focus on his voice and lyricism. The words themselves are devastating:

Why can’t it just be easy?
Why does everybody need me to stay?

Good news, good news, good news
That’s all they wanna hear
No, they don’t like it when I’m down
But when I’m flying, oh, it make ’em so uncomfortable
So different, what’s the difference?

Well, so tired of being so tired

Mac so perfectly conveys how tired he is with his mental state, fighting his inner demons and the pressure of being in the public spotlight. It’s a feeling of giving up, which is even more tragic considering he was only 26 when he passed. On one hand, it seems as if he has finally resigned himself to his fate, and on the other hand there is a feeling of hope and nostalgia, a reason to keep living. One can’t even begin to imagine what he was struggling with, or how his life led him to this point of existential questioning. He used to be an outrageous and energetic performer who didn’t care about public opinion, but now it’s obvious that he was much more complex than he portrayed. These final few lines are some of the most gut-wrenching and self-aware in musical history:

If you know me, it ain’t anything new
Wake up to the moon, haven’t seen the sun in a while
But I heard that the skies still blue, yeah
Heard they don’t talk about me too much no more
And that’s a problem with a closed door

There’s a whole lot more for me waiting on the other side
I’m always wondering, if it feel like summer
I know maybe I’m too late, I could make it there some other time
Then I’ll finally discover

I’m not exaggerating when I say that the world cried listening to these final words. What a punch in the heart; how could he be so prophetic and aware of his fate, and yet welcome it with open arms. He finally stopped fighting himself so that he could be at peace. I would argue that these words leave no room for another album: these are the words of a man who has nothing left to say and has realized and come to terms with the meaning of his life. I have so much respect for him and everything that he made, especially at the end when it was clear that he was struggling. He managed to write his own eulogy, and in doing so left the world with his greatest gift, and for that I’ll always be thankful. Rest in peace Mac Miller.