Dissect - S9E14 - Woods by Mac Miller

Episode Date: February 1, 2022

We resume our analysis of Mac Miller’s Circles with “Woods,” a gorgeous song that finds Mac speaking intimately about love and love lost. Follow Dissect on Tiktok, Instagram, and Twitter. This season includes discussion of substance misuse and addiction. For resources on these topics, visit spotify.com/resources. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Into the woods without delay but careful not to lose the way Into the woods who knows what may be lurking on the journey Into the woods to get the thing that makes it worth a journey Into the woods to see the keys To tell the call The greatest stronghold of nature The woods have engaged the imagination of humankind as long as we've been around Like water, the woods are simultaneously a place of danger

And a source of life, a place of mystery and of growth, A place we explore but don't always have mastery over. The number of folk tales where the woods presents a journey, growth, and danger is endless. In the Little Red Riding Hood, the protagonist leaves the safety of her village to venture into the woods, to grandmother's house, only to meet the dangerous wolf. Maturation and vital life skills are obtained in the chaos of the woods where a predator can lurk around any corner. The idea in many of these stories is that we must get through the woods, that they're a precarious

puzzle we can escape or pass through. But what if this isn't the way? What if the way is accepting our place in the woods, understanding that there will always be questions without answers, always be danger, always be mystery and confusion? What if the way was not to escape the woods, but rather find peace within them? From Spotify, I'm Cole Kushna and this is Dissect, long-form musical analysis broken into short digestible episodes. Today we continue our serialized examination of MacMiller Circles with the album's centerpiece, Woods. Woods was produced by German duo David and Eli, along with one of Mac's longtime collaborator's E. Dan. According to E. Dan, Woods was the last song he and Mac worked on together, which occurred in

February of 2018. The majority of the song revolves around a single chord progression. The dampen effect of the keys combined with the downward motion of the chord progression, colors as part with a kind of reflective melancholy. Beneath these keys, we get a mellow drumbeat textured with a few extra-percussive instruments. Later, a bass line and an ostinato synth are added to the mix. This mellow mid-tempo production beautifully sets the stage for Mack's contemplative reflection of a relationship gone astray, a forage through the proverbial woods in search of answers, understanding, and acceptance.

Mack begins a song singing, Things like this ain't built to last. I might just fade like those before me. You'll forget my past. Got questions. Ask you know the stories. Mac begins a song singing, Things like this ain't built to last. I might just fade like those before me. As an opening couplet, this establishes a somber reckoning with the concept of mortality. On an individual level, Mack acknowledges his inevitable death, that he won't last. But Mack's individual fade might be representative of a universal mortality, that none of us are built to last. We're all going to die, and over time, the record of our existence fades. We heard ideas similar to this one throughout swimming, most acutely expressed in the

sandcastle motif in ladders and building walls that break in small worlds. By revealing this existential anxiety at the start, we're primed for ruminations on what were to do with this foreboding knowledge. The following lyrics go on to reveal that within the individual and universal layers, Mack is also talking about an interpersonal relationship, about love. P.S., when will you forget my past? Got questions, ask, you know the stories. Directly addressing an unnamed figure, the you could stand in for both a romantic partner or us, the audience. In terms of the relationship, this seems to allude to lingering doubts

magnified by a lack of communication, and Mack invites dialogue and offers open honesty in return for the freedom to move forward from the past. These lines also recontextualized the opening couplet, as Mac could also be saying that this relationship wasn't built to last, and that he's going to fade from her life just like her past romantic partners. Beyond the dynamics of the romantic relationship, Mack seems to be asking us the same question. Having lived life in the public eye since he was a teenager, Mack's image is often shaped by perception, and when asked how he feels about this, Max said, quote, I think that I've dealt with so many different negative things, positive things, just opinions, that trying to direct them seems so unnecessary. Like giving a

fuck about how I'm perceived and trying to correct it to make me out to be, what? What am I going to make me out to be? Something that sells more, something that seems cooler. There's certain things that I wish people knew more, like about how I really put together an album, about how much time and work I actually put into this shit and how these records get made. But all the other shit is like, Okay, unquote. By living in honesty whenever he can, Mack hoped to find a way through all the issues he faced. As long as I'm being honest,

I don't actually have anything to trip about because I know the type of human being my parents raised. I know I trust in who I am as a person. So if I just keep it honest and keeping me, I don't have anything to really trip about. And you need to let me know when you're leaving where you go. Can I come? Are you close? If you don't, that I'll get you brung. Mack continues the verse asking for more open communication, singing,

and you need to let me know when you're leaving, where you go, can I come? This desire for togetherness seems to come from a place of emptiness or longing, as Mac vocalizes it as a need to know where his partner is going, and the vulnerability of Can I Come is tender and honest. This is actually a question Mack has asked before. Here's the outro of a funeral from the mixed date faces. Yeah. Interestingly, both funeral and woods are positioned in central locations on their projects,

as if Mack is lost in the thick of it, looking for someone to show him where to go. Later on circles, Mack will ask this question again on the song Surf. On surf, Mack justifies his run, request by saying, the whole world is open, a playground for me and you. This thematic idea of offering accompaniment for exploration is a rationale for a relationship, having someone with us as we traverse the world and our life in general. In Max's repeated longing, we sense a very true desire or need for companionship. While his mindset on circles seems brighter than the harrowing darkness of faces, the fundamental longing for connection throughout his projects continues the development of circular

or repeated struggles, even as we move forward. We might keep walking. We might keep walking, or swimming, but problems are always going to arise or come back. Often we need help to keep going, and Mac is reaching out for support. Mac then synthesizes his two questions asking, Do you believe me? Are you close? Given his previous question about forgetting his past, we might wonder whether Mac is asking his love interest if she believes him about that past or how he feels about it now.

In any case, the heart of Mack's questions are attempts to cultivate honesty, trust, and intimacy. Now, Mack's next lyric is a little difficult to pin down. According to his own website, the words are, Even if you don't, that'll get you wrong. In this sense, it seems Mac is worried that his desire for such intimacy may steer him in the wrong direction, that the relationship isn't built to last and trying to cling on to something that's moving apart will harm everyone involved. However, given Mac's blurry and fluid delivery, plus the fact that these were songs in progress, we don't always have a clear, objective lyric.

That may even be intentional. Nearly every other website with lyrics has the line as, even if you don't, that'll get you sprung. This alternate reading has a few potential implications. Sprung can mean to be infatuated with someone, and in terms of the relationship Max sings of, this would seem to convey their bond as powerful and compelling whether or not both parties believe in one another, that the desire for love and connection will compel emotions regardless of logic. Sprung also calls to mind the season of spring, and in the woods, this is a time of growth and vibrancy, the beginning of life and love. As acoustic guitar strumming and ascending synths come

onto the track, Mack keeps the questions coming, singing, do I love? Can I get enough? Given the intimacy struggles of the first verse, this chorus feels like a distillation of Mack's worries. On the personal level, the couplet, do I love, can I get enough, evokes a quandry of contentment. Can Max still love despite his personal struggles? Even if he can, is it enough? Or do the questions and problems never end. It seems this is the case. In our pursuits of anything, love, health, money, fame, it seems the subjectivity of human nature often leaves us feeling that whatever we have is not enough. So instead of the pursuit of happiness, perhaps our pursuit ought to be one of acceptance. On hurt feelings, he said, I always say I want it all, but it ain't enough. On small worlds,

he asked, do you want it all if it's all mediocre? Now on woods, it seems the questions remain. Now during this section of the song, a guitar is brought into the mix, played by none other than Wendy Melvoin, formerly of Prince and the Revolution. John Bryan brought her on to contribute to circles after Mack's passing, but Brian had discussed the idea with Mac while he was still alive. Brian told Vulture that this was, quote, because I heard some Prince influence in some of the keyboard choices specifically. I told him, you should work with these artists. I think these are people you work with for the rest of your life, even if we're not working together. You should experience it because I think all of them will influence it. the way you do other things, unquote. Like most of us, Mac loved Prince,

and in the wake of his passing, Mack was asked during a radio interview what Prince song was his favorite? My favorite Prince song, I'll tell you a song that I will play controversy. Okay. That's because that song has gotten me through a lot and also has the greatest lyrics ever.

which is, do I believe in God? Do I believe in me? Which are like those two next to each other. Like, that's the best. As Mack described, the arrangement of questions on controversy moved him deeply. And in Woods, Mack employs a similar tactic. Just as Prince asks questions towards himself, do I believe in God and do I believe in me? Mac asks, do I love?

A similar question of faith. Mack's following question, Can I get enough, operates in relation to the first question, which is just like Prince's structure, implying a connection between the questions, even as they seem to ask different things. While we can't know for sure whether Mac intentionally was playing off Controversy's lyrics, we do know that John Bryan was extremely fond of this track. During one of his famous improvised shows at the Largo Club,

Brian was asked by the audience to play a Prince song, and Brian played controversy all by himself, putting together each part on the spot. The questions asked in both controversy and woods are central to the human experience, forever embedded in our heads. It's clear that the power of presenting such questions and music captivated both Mac and Brian. And as we're coming to see, these questions will never go away. They have plagued humanity seemingly forever,

and it seems that we're going to have to find some kind of peace in the unknowing. Yeah, no run away, love, hate love, heartbreak will have your bankrupt. Too many days in the days, better wake up. I put your face in the place where the space was. Nobody make you feel like you a... Perhaps in reaction to the incessant questions, Mack sings, Don't Run Away, Love, Heartbreak will have you bankrupt.

Mack requests that his partner not run away, warning that the heartbreak caused by leaving will result in bankruptcy or having nothing. It feels like a lesson learned from repeated heartbreak, that while there may be issues in the relationship, leaving everything altogether will hurt even worse. Mac then wraps, too many days and a days, better wake up. I put your face in a place where the space was. The double entendre of days, as both the measurement of time and a hazy state, reveals what might have been a central issue to the relationship,

a lack of presence due to the extended use of drugs. The call to wake up is then a call to be more aware, present, and engaged in the partnership. The specific word choice of face and space and recollecting this dark and drugged past alludes to a few of Mac's previous projects that captured these times, whether it be the mixtape faces or the album Live from Space. In turn, I Put Your Face in a place where the space was, also speaks to the way Mac uses this love to fill an inner void. Taken together, it evokes the common metaphoric connection between love and drugs.

You know what's crazy is that, like, the love vice, the love is, like, has always, I've always been fascinated by that, the similarities between, Love in drugs? Yeah. Okay. I really feel like the two things can affect a human being in a very similar way. Mack's next lyrics maintain this connection as he sings,

Nobody makes you feel like you, but do I? And you don't know what you should do. You're just looking for someone to make you move. Tell me, do I? Addressing his partner, Mack vulnerably asks whether he still moves them, makes them feel comfortable in their own skin. But there's also a chance Mac is addressing himself existentially, asking if he can find identity, purpose, or joy, and himself.

The echoing of the do I question reverberates, emphasizing self-doubt and the repetition of uncertainty. They also call back to the do I love question of the chorus. In this way, the echoing, repeating questions that permeate the track feel like a fitting sonic metaphor for our cyclical, unending doubts, and worries. More on that, right after the break. Welcome back to Dissect. Before the break, we heard Max repeated questions,

addressed equally to his partner and himself. As Woods continues, the drums drop out, leaving Mack's tender voice to introduce the second verse alone. Make this planet feel like home. It's us first time the door is closing. Mac begins singing, I make this planet feel like home. The use of planet continues the interstellar imagery of face and a place where the space was. Seemingly answering the do-eye question, Mac offers a himself as a source of comfort to his partner. Their connection is what provides solace, protection, and life amidst this giant world, all of which is captured with the intimate phrase

feel like home. Mack then sings, it's us, first time, the door is closing. This is another subjective lyric, with Mack's website saying first time and nearly every other website reading verse time. For Mac's delivery, there's really no difference in pronunciation, and both phrases capture the idea of finite mortality, with the door closing either on all of our lives and the relationship in question. Mac then laments, so far beyond our control, you say this is all so close to broken. It's an omission of hopelessness, a reckoning with the fact that time is unstoppable, and that we have too many problems to fix it all before our time is over. The phrase, you say this all so close to broken, also conveys that the relationship at hand is falling apart.

However, Mac's singing once again offers an alternate possibility. You saved a soul so close to broken. Hearing the line this way feels emblematic of the potential for love to provide a fulfilling bond in the face of mortal doom. Depending on how you look at it, relationships are doomed in the face of things being insurmountable, or the relationship itself offers shelter from the storm of that peril. Matt continues the thread of time singing, It's so much better when you wait forever in a day, that's all I got. In tandem with the previous line make this planet feel like home,

this seems to refer back to the track Small Worlds, where Mac sings, tomorrow may be right around the corner, but I swear it's going to be worth it if I make you wait. As we covered in that episode, this was a call for presence, for appreciating the moment as it happens, but also a request for patience as Mack tries to figure himself out. This time, Mac adds the seemingly paradoxical, Forever in a Day, that's all I got.

Forever in a Day is a phrase coined by Shakespeare and is used to mean a very long time or indefinitely, often in expressions of love, as in, I'll love you forever in a day. Max's use seems to mean that he's willing to wait as long as it takes to get this relationship right, because he knows it'll be worth the wait, and like he expressed earlier in the track, without it he feels they'll both go bankrupt emotionally.

Mac then sings, put it together, then it break, all the energy it take, it never stop. Solving problems never really happens. Our answers are never enough. We spend all of our time trying to figure it out, and this cycle repeats endlessly. We also recognize that this end of the verse mirrors Mack's first lyrics on the song. Things like this ain't built to last. It appears we've now reached the breaking point. By reflecting the sentiment at the start of the song, Mac illuminates the cyclical repetition of meandering through the woods. We find ourselves looking around thinking, didn't we already go by here? Didn't we already see that tree?

We keep running into the same problems, never able to get out of the woods, asking the same questions over and over again. Mack performs a chorus again singing, Do I love? Can I get enough? In terms of the relationship on this track, Mack seems to be questioning the love that may or may not keep it going. Even if he finds that he loves his partner, would it be enough love? Is there even such a thing?

Similar questions to these, can also be found in the previous track on Circles Everybody, which is the cover of Arthur Lee's 1972 song Everybody's Got to Live. It's Here Max sings about how everyone is going to die, and we ought to spend our time here trying to enjoy it all, specifically honing in on love. Here, Max seemingly admits that even though love is the thing that helps us through rough times, he just can't get enough. It's a powerfully humid admission of inadequacy. We're never really satisfied, we may never get enough of anything. We heard this kind of insatiability expressed by Mac throughout swimming as well. But in terms of the pursuit of intimacy on woods, we realize that

even love, honesty, and closeness might not be enough for any permanent solution. Instead, we're left in a place of searching, never really knowing anything for certain. The phrase out of the woods is often used to describe when a relationship has overcome any obstacles or times of struggle, insinuating that things will be smooth from here on out. But on woods, we get a feeling that we may never get out of these woods, and that we might have to be all right with that. As Mack told Craig Jenkins, quote, I really wouldn't want just happiness, and I don't want just sadness either. I don't want to be depressed.

I want to be able to have good days and bad days, unquote. I never slim, I never fall. I try to tell you about a better life getting involved. Big and small, it's been my fault. I keep it safe. It's in a vault. Blindfold and keep it going until we hit a wall. Yeah.

I'm never going through the motions. Mac begins the next section switching his delivery to rapping. He begins, I never slip, I never fall, with almost the same exact cadence as Polo to Don rapping on Rich Boys' 2007 hit, Throw Some D's song D's. While Mac's delivery might have been coincidental, there's seemingly another layer to the bonds between these two songs. Throw Some D's begins with a sample of the 19-7.

1979 song, I Call Your Name by Switch. You know, like, do you love me? Do you want me? Are you going to call me like you said you would? Is this really your real phone? These questions sound pretty similar to the kinds of questions Mac has been asking throughout Woods. Specifically, do you love me sounds a lot like, do I love?

Rich Boy's response on his track seemed to portray the questions as immature, as throw some dees that's all about making enough money selling drugs to put Dayton Rims on a catalog. It's about stunting and success, which is encapsulated by the phrase, I never slip, I never fall. But in Mack's case, we might remember that he previously voiced a different opinion back on small worlds. Here Mack sings, I might trip, I never fall. It's an omission of mistakes, but also a call not to let those take you all the way down.

On Woods, Mac is being a little less honest, claiming he never even slips. It's a bit of bravado perhaps inspired by Rich Boy, a coping mechanism in the face of the heartache he feels. Mac's sudden switch to rapping also supports this theory, as singing for Mac has typically been used to express more vulnerable aspects of himself, while rapping is often used to stunt. This change of tone continues as Mac wraps, I tried to tell you about a better life and get involved, big or small. It's been before, I keep it safe, it's in the vault, blindfolded, keep it going till we hit a wall. The better life here seems to be the life of never slipping. or falling, a life without the problems this relationship has faced. Matt keeps a very tight rhyme scheme going, with fall involved small, fault, vault, and wall,

creating a swaddling effect. His vows surround us in sound, just like the limits of the vault or walls. He takes responsibility for not being open with a double entendre of, I keep it safe, it's in the vault, playing off the synonyms of safe and vault to admit that he keeps his thoughts locked inside his mind, that he doesn't always express all of his truths. This then leads them blindfolded, unable to see the obstacles ahead or their own limits until they hit a wall and crash. As we've discussed before, walls are a motif throughout swimming used to symbolize constraints or limitations. On wings, we heard Mack optimistically saying, The walls keep getting wider, I just hope I never find him. Here on Woods,

Mack describes hitting the proverbial wall with his partner, something he takes accountability for. He'll actually expand on this later in circles, specifically on the song, That's on Me. After taking accountability with a hook that repeats, that's on me, Mack admits that he's bouncing his head off the wall and that nobody knows where we're going at all. And so while swimming portrayed an optimistic attitude about overcoming the walls in front of him, we once again have a counterpoint, with Mack hitting the walls and acknowledging the limits on our life and time here. It's indicative of the circles we swim in, and Mack understands his own contribution to getting stuck in these cycles. Not being completely honest in keeping his feeling safe in a vault are blindfolds,

leading him and the ones he loves into the proverbial wall. Mack understood this. It's part of why honesty comes across so important in his work. I mean, all these trials and tribulations aren't different than anybody else. It's just that, like, I let everyone into all them. That's my thing, is that I can't lie about what I'm doing. I'm not going to, if I'm super depressed, I will have this interview and I'll talk to you about how fucked up I am,

because that's what I want. creatively, I want that to mirror my all over human beingness. Between swimming and circles, we get really close to this full portrait of Mack's all over human beingness. And here on Woods, Mack is being honest about his own dishonesty, knowing that it spells the end. As John Bryan told the New York Times, quote, he was clearly trying to sort through his demons and was just being very, very honest, not trying to hide any of it. I feel like the album is a clear picture of somebody with those troubles who is funny and intelligent who was trying to look at them critically, unquote.

Matt continues Woods, rapping, I'm never going through the motions, I'm just trying to lay your body down slowly. On the surface, this phrase seems to refer to intimate sex, in line with the relationships strung throughout the track. He then caps off the verse with the line, we can only go up. Playing off the low of Lay Your Body Down, up is both a sexual innuendo and an optimistic belief that despite being at the rock bottom of the relationship,

they can still ascend together. But we also recall this song began with universal lines about mortality. Things like this ain't built to last, I might just fade like those before me. With this in mind, it appears Mac is bringing this sentiment full circle here on the conclusion of the final verse, as laying one's body down and going up, feels like a nod to mortality in the afterlife, with ascension being a classic image of a soul's journey heavenward. And not to draw out the metaphor too much, but if we were to lay our body down to die in the woods, eventually that body would decompose and provide nutrients to the folio.

most notably trees, and this way it'd go up. In any case, Mac repeating the phrase we can only go up seems like an attempt to believe in something beyond our earthly plane, and that even at our lowest, there's always the potential for ascension. In the final phone. In the final chorus, Mac repeats the central questions. Do I love and can I get enough? We can take this final opportunity to examine the universal layer of these questions

as the dilemma they present is an existential threat. Mac has gone deep into his ideas of love. before, specifically on his album The Divine Feminine. In an interview at the time, he said, quote, I think depending on the type of love you're getting, it can be different things. It can be blissful, it can be painful, it can be complicated, or it can be simple. It's not just one thing, and that's what I really wanted to capture, unquote. The question of do I love is then akin to the question, do I feel or do I care for others? It's an inquisition into our ability to recognize emotion and to use that in a positive way. This love is the grander quality of the question of

of respect and care for fellow human beings in the face of mortality and struggle. What this means and how this works in practice are questions we have to keep asking ourselves. This in turn relates to the can I get enough dilemma, in that we need to figure out a balance between giving and receiving, or risk or overconsumption discriminately harming other people. Finally, mimicking Mack's last words on the last verse, we can only go up. Woods concludes with rising sense that leave the song tonally unresolved. Fittingly, this is how the relationship on this track ended.

still lost in the woods, with Mack trying to offer some comfort, some hope of ascension, but understanding that the end was inevitable. Conclusions. Woods is the seventh song on Circles, placing it at the center of the album. And here in the center of the circle, we appropriately find Mack looking around, asking questions, hitting walls, feeling lost, hoping for ascension. Thus, despite the word never being used in the song, the title Woods feels appropriate, joining the myriad of folk tales and stories that use the woods as a mysterious, otherworldly place through which we must confront the unknown,

get lost, make mistakes, face our fears, and come out the other side having grown. In the classic Snow White story, a princess escapes the murderous treachery of her evil stepmother by fleeing into the woods. There she displays bravery, patience, kindness, and faith, all qualities that eventually lead her to being able to leave the woods. In Harry Potter, the Forbidden Forest is a mysterious creature-filled woods near the student's school. It appears again and again as a place of darkness, exploration, adventure, and learning. And this is often the role the woods play in our stories, as a place of passage, an obstacle to be overcome. But we also find similar uses of woods in some of Mac's musical contemporaries. Perhaps most potently there's

Boney Vares Woods, a song that also beautifully captures images of doubt and decaying love. Justin Vernon sings, I'm up in the woods, I'm down on my mind, I'm building a still to slow the time, repeating this stanza 11 times over the course of the track, each time adding vocal layers and complexities. Of the 16 words used by Vernon, Mack uses all but two of those same words in his own woods. Thematically, the songs are near identical matches too, with Vernon's being colored contextually by a breakup and retreat into a reclusive cabin, and max by his tabloid torture and similar creative reclusivity. And joining Mac and Vernon is Kanye West, who famously sampled Bonie Ver's woods for his own Lost in the World.

A song that also expresses a sense of directionlessness and isolation after Kanye lost his mother, fiancé, and public good standing. All three of these woods-inspired songs are sonic portraits of a human response to the pain of doubt, suffering, and mortality. It's a gorgeous representation of the pain of being human, but trying to find a salve for our mortal coil. All three artists create auditory biospheres, sculpting sonic effigies of our natural state, are endless eternal woods. And while myth and folklore use the woods as a place one ultimately leaves, given the guiding concept of swimming in circles, it seems max use of this traditional symbol is more about

making peace with our place in the woods, to make peace with the not-knowing, with the everlasting questions and exploration, the ebb and flow of nature. This is growth to accept and adapt the liminal uncharted territories. Simultaneously full of life and danger, beauty, and terror, the woods are our home. As Mack told Craig Jenkins for Vulture, quote, I've had all sadness, just all darkness, but I think being in a place where you can spend time in both and gain perspective on that other side

makes you appreciate what each brings to the table. You get to experience both. I just think that makes the most sense to me at this point in life. For now, that's what I think helps create more growth for myself, unquote. We find the imagery of the woods most directly in the visualizer for woods. Directed by Anthony Gaddis and Eric Tilford, The video features a lone leopard roaming a revolving orb, shaded by an overhanging canopy of the woods. The floor of the forest changes between four patterns, a lush, life-filled green, a molten lava,

a psychedelic black and white checkerboard pattern, and a red carpet, most commonly associated with fame. With the cyclical repeating nature of the video and the lone nature of the leopard, we realize this feels like a perfect encapsulation of the sonic portrait Mac painted, roaming the ever-changing environment, always moving, but seeing the same influences time and time again. This then is life. We meander through our woods, facing difficulties, running into the same problems over and over again, all with the knowledge that this will ultimately come to an end. And so, before it's all over, we might as well try to love and to have enough, here in our woods. This episode of Dissect was written by Camden Ostrander and me. If you enjoyed today's episode,

tell a friend about the show or share on social media and tag at Dysect Podcast. It really helps. Limited Season 9 merchandise is available at Dysectpodcast.com. Theme music by Bureaucratic. Song Recreations by Andrew Atwood. Audio editing by Eric Bass and me. All right, thanks everyone. Talk to you next week.