Dissect - S9E4 - Perfecto by Mac Miller

Episode Date: October 26, 2021

We continue our season-long analysis of Mac Miller’s Swimming with its fourth track, “Perfecto.” This season includes discussion of substance misuse and addiction. For resources on these topics, visit spotify.com/resources. Shop Season 9 merchandise here. Follow Dissect on Tiktok, Instagram, and Twitter. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

What do you feel when you hear the crackling hiss of a vinyl record? For many of us, it brings about a sensation of warmth. There's a unique physicality captured in the needle digging into the grooves, the hum of a whirling record, the unpredictable pops and crackles. There's something about it that feels real. But technically speaking, these are all blemishes. Popping sounds are produced by small particles of dust or dirt on the record. Hissing is a byproduct of using magnetic tape, a worn needle, among other issues.

issues. And yet, what's produced by these flaws are what we love about vinyl. They're why a lot of us prefer it to the perfectly clean, technically flawless experience of digital media. In other words, sometimes imperfections are the very things that make something perfect. 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 Mac Miller swimming with its fourth track, Perfecto. Perfecto was produced by T-Wi with additional production by John Bryan. In the song's opening moments, we hear the main chord progression established on what sounds like a marimba.

But like every track on swimming so far, the instrument is affected with a filter that makes it sound as if it's underwater. Also, as we listen, notice the crackling sound applied to the track, mimicking the imperfections of a vinyl record player. In a song whose central theme is the acceptance of imperfections, this choice of adding crackling noise seems like a very calculated decision. As we'll come to see, it's one of many of the songs' features, from its musical structure, lyrical structure, and title, that reflects Mack's attempts to become at peace with the imperfections

of the human experience. Mac begins to chorus with, Well, it ain't perfect, but I don't mind, because it's worth it. Who really has the time at all? There's a willful submission and acceptance of imperfection established here. Our time on earth is finite, so we shouldn't spend our allotted time fretting about the unavoidable. This could be our personal mistakes and setbacks and or the larger flawed world we live in. Even with its flaws, life is worth it, sufficient all on its own. Max's focus on anxiety in relation to time also evokes the biblical passage Matthew 627,

when Jesus, during his sermon on the mound, addresses concerns of faith, quote, Who of you by worrying, can add a single hour to his life, unquote? This seems to point out that anxiety, for all the energy it consumes, does not produce anything, does not use the limited time we have on this earth wisely, advice Mac attempts to live with. But then Mac follows his opening lines with, It ain't perfect, but I don't mind, because on the surface I look so fine, but really I'm bugging, making something out of nothing.

Here we have to acknowledge Mack's great writing. He began the hook with what appeared to be a peaceful acceptance of imperfection, but these lines reveal that that acceptance is just the surface level he shows people. Beneath that, he's bugging or stressing. With this context, it now feels like Mack is attempting to convince himself everything is okay, telling himself what he knows to be true but can't always feel or embrace. And so looking at the lyrical structure of the hook, we realize that it reflects the perfect, imperfect dichotomy.

That is, the first part expresses the ideal or perfect. mindset, one where he's okay with flaws and hardship. The second part expresses our imperfect reality, that despite knowing it's all a part of the human experience, flaws and hardships do actually affect us. They cause very real anxiety and stress. When asked if he dealt with anxiety, Mack said in 2018, quote, yeah, I'm an overthinker and I definitely deal with anxiety. There are times when I'm super free of it. It's not all the time, but I think my mom would have a really good answer to that. I think she would say yes, I have a tendency to brood about stuff and cook in it. So the performance I just did, I'll wake up and I'll sit here and I'll think about it for hours. What could I have done better?

How could I've gotten more rest? How could I have practiced this? How could I have worked this out? Just the what-ifs of all those things kind of drives me crazy, unquote. Asmac identifies here, this tendency to brood on the what-ifs allows his mind to make something out of nothing, to breed germs of discontent out of the raw, inescapable imperfection of being human. For now, Mack tries to convince himself that this inner turmoil is okay, as long as he can appear fine on the surface. But we know that in the long term, a storm is bound to disrupt that surface. Yep, as hard as it gets, cool combe collected, holding my breath, this ain't what I expected. Don't argue to death, pull my heart out my chest.

The card is all on the table, I'm calling it. Don't say it, I swallow it when living off a barrow time. Mac begins the first verse rapping, Yeah, as hard as it gets, cool, calm and collected. Holding my breath, this ain't what I expected. The outer facade of being calm is exposed by our window into Mack's mind, where he admits he's in trouble on the inside. Following the use of the word surface and the hook,

holding my breath here continues the water imagery, as Mac attempts to hold his breath or appear fine long enough until he actually is fine. This idea of holding your breath also builds tension because you can only hold your breath for so long before you drown. But beyond the water metaphor, the symbolism of holding it in is indicative of Mack's problem. He won't let out what he needs to. He's keeping it all inside and trying to make appearances. Mack then continues, don't argue to death, pull my heart out my chest. The cards is all on the table. I'm calling it. Here it appears Mac is describing a conversation or argument, dealing with the heart of the matter, which seems to imply a romantic relationship.

Mack doesn't want to argue to death, that is, to the end of the relationship, or, as the chorus noted, to the end of our limited time on earth. He pushes himself to vulnerably say what he feels instead of keeping things inside. He then uses the metaphor of a hand in poker, placing his cards on the table to call his partner's bet, meaning he's matching and going all in with them. This is a push to see where they stand with each other and let the chips fall where they may. He knows this vulnerability would be a decisive. decisive action, one that could prevent any wasted time, but he doesn't go through with it.

He continues, don't say it, I swallow it. In other words, he'll continue holding his breath, holding in what he needs to let out. This conflict of knowing what he should do and not doing it mirrors the conflict of the chorus, where he knows he should accept imperfection, but can't always actualize that knowledge. Max's use of the poker game symbolism might be inspired by one of his favorite artists, Bob Marley and his song Is This Love. It's here that Marley wonders, is this love I'm feeling, and declares that he has to know, so he'll throw his cards on the table. Marley's gamble of playing his hand is a decisive move to address the anxiety and worry over a romantic relationship. Given that this song was the first track on Marley's compilation album, Legend,

which Mack ranked as one of the greatest 25 albums of all time, Mack's phrasing might be an intentional reference to this moment, or simply a subconscious inspiration. Mac then continues, when living off a borrowed time, often I'm on the fence, on a line, adding up what's on my mind. To live on borrowed time means that you've lived longer than you should have, and that it's likely to end sooner rather than later. Given Mack's mention of limited time on the song's hook, his use of borrowed time seems to mean our limited time on Earth, borrowed from the seemingly much more vast amount of time in which we are not alive. It's a dark reminder that we aren't here very long, with borrowed implying that this life isn't even ours. It's merely a short

blip we steal for a moment until it's all gone again. Mac expressed this feeling of living on borrowed time somewhat often in his music, perhaps most potently in the opening line of his 2014 mixtape faces when he said, I should have died already. Here on Perfecto, he follows with a description of how this existential weight paralyzes him into inaction, as On the Fence is an idiom for indecisiveness, while On the Line further visualizes Mack walking a kind of mental tightrope. A fence is also a term for dealing stolen goods, which is a clever choice in light of Mac's borrowed or stolen timeline. With this in mind, On the Line could also refer to a line. A Line could also refer to line of cocaine and adding up a sly nod to Adderall or Addy. This complex cocktail of drugs,

existential dread, and crippling anxiety seems to be what Mack is attempting to add up in his mind. It's no wonder he's indecisive. Now, given the possible reference to Bob Marley in the previous line, it's hard to hear Mack's line about borrowed time and not think of two iconic lines from two more Mack's favorite artists, M.F. Doom and John Lennon. First, here's M.F. Doom's opening line on the song accordion from the album Mad Villany. Living off Borrowed Time, the clock tick faster. That'll be the hour they knocked a slick blaster. Living on Borrowed Time, The Clock Tick Faster, is the first rap lyric on the Mad Villany album.

Mac could be tapping into this anxiety-inducing existential dread, where it feels like time elapses faster. With Mac being a big MF Doom fan, even ranking one of his albums in his top 25 of all time, it's a near certainty that he would have been very familiar with this iconic opening line. Mac even had his own unreleased collaborative project with the other half of Mad Villain, Madlib, aptly titled Maclib. The second possible reference is to John Lennon in his song, Borrowed Time. In Lennon's song, the realization that we're living on borrowed time frees Lennon from worry. Instead of fretting about everything, as he did when he was younger, the experience of age leads

Lennon to realize that all he has to do is stand up and go, stand up and live. Mack praised Lennon often. His first tattoo was of Imagine, one of Lennon's most famous songs, and he later added Lennon's face on his right forearm. was also the person Mack named when asked who we'd want most to get a cup of coffee with. We of course don't know if Mac was purposely making a reference to Lennon or Doom. However, even the potential that he could be speaks to Mac's eclectic musical influences. From the very start of his career, Mack always expressed his diversity of interests, saying he was equally influenced by Big L and Jack Johnson.

On the 2011 track Smile Back, he called himself Lennon mixed with UGK. Here's Mac talking about this specific line. People hear something like Lenin UGK, and that sounds weird to them. They're like, how can you be like that in the same time? But to me, it's like, man, like that's all music I love. I mean, Lenin is like who I want to be like. And UGK, man, that's just legendary shit, man. I love Houston.

And that's just basically two different sizes of the structure that like I want to bring her side to be my music. Mac identifies these different portions of the musical spectrum as forces he combines. And this is also what we see with his own borrowed timeline, as he sits on the fence on a line. The MF Doom nod would have Mac looking at our borrowed time as a somber reminder of our impending doom, while the Lenin nod has Mack understanding that our mortality is all the more reason to enjoy the time that we have. Both of these ideas were captured in Perfecto's hook, and the simultaneity of these ideas is reflected of the larger swimming and circle structure.

Our struggles are cyclical and recurring, and our perception becomes warped trying to make sense of feeling multiple emotions and thinking multiple ideas all at once. Here on Perfecto, Mac is attempting to add it up and make sense of it all. Following the possible drug references to cocaine and Adderall, Mac wraps, my feet on the clouds, head on the ground, that we going down, bet you know me now. Continuing the multidirectional motif of swimming, Mac once again captures the simultaneity of high and low, as his feet on the clouds implies levity and being high, while his head on the ground seems to imply lowly depressed thinking. It feels like an insightful way to describe using drugs

to escape anxiety, that while it feels great, it's only because your perception of reality is being temporarily warped. Specifically saying, we going down, is either a callback to the relationship referenced at the beginning of the verse, meaning that it's headed toward breakup, and or it's a universal observation, that we're all on borrowed time and approaching death with each tick of the clock. Bet you know me now is clever wordplay, with Bett calling back to the poker line and Max showing his hand. But remember he immediately followed that line by saying he actually won't go all in, that instead of saying it, he'll swallow it. It's this inaction that leads to ruin, to the relationship going down, and reveals Mack's true self, one that is,

perpetually on the fence, feeling too many things all at once to go all in on just one. Mack transitions from rap to singing in the pre-chorus. He sings, I'm treading water, I swear that if I drown, I don't care. Here we get clear development of the album, central water and swimming motif. Mac is exerting energy, but merely staying afloat, not going anywhere, which is a brilliant analogy for his indecisive mind frame that he describes on the track. Interestingly, treading water is sort of simultaneously swimming and not swimming. He's spending energy, but not using that energy to produce anything or go anywhere. Treading water is also the act of using arms and legs to keep your head above water, a perfect parallel to Mack looking fine

on the surface, but bugging underneath. Matt claims to be apathetic about this predicament, and I don't care if I die kind of attitude. He then describes outside forces pleading for him to get out of the water before he drowns, singing, they calling me from the shore, I need more. This insatiability continues a thread that began on hurt feelings when Mack rapped, Always say I want it all, but it's not enough. It seems this desire for more keeps Mac going. Yeah, I mean, I think for me it's just the unquenchance,

thirst for like satisfaction with what I you know what I'm saying it's I'm never like I never think it's good enough I never I want to make something that didn't exist before and that's kind of impossible so yeah I guess I'm chasing the impossible while there's an idealized beauty to chasing the impossible Mac is also in trouble treading water wearing himself out there's a reason he's being called back to shore it's safer there so at the moment Mac is caught in a liminal space of treading between sinking and swimming, between going to deeper waters or returning to shore. And in terms of the danger of drowning Max Sings of, his phrasing pretty clearly evokes substance abuse and addiction, with I Need More, quite literally, being dependency.

In light of how time has unfolded in Mack's fate, the siren call of this struggle is extremely heavy, and Mack's apparent willingness to drown is a morosely honest admission of his commitment to vices, of rejecting the cries of those on shore, his loved ones all around him. Having now the context of this first verse and pre-chorus, the indecisiveness of the chorus is even more prominent. There's even an extra layer of vocals this time around. Right after Mack declares the imperfections of life are worth it, we hear Mack's own voice ask, is it, over and over? This added vocal is set back and rapidly panned between the left and right speakers,

as if it's the voice inside Mac's head. It perfectly captures Mac on the fence, unable to shake the existential doubt beneath any perceived truth. As Max said here back in 2014, there may be no conclusion. It might simply be better to be open to multiple possibilities and try to move forward as best you can without any solid answers. After all, we could spend all of our time wondering about what all this means,

but who really has the time? Or as Mac said on the previous track, what's the use? This is at least what Macs. tries to tell himself, trying to stay afloat even as doubt and struggle persist. And it's this energy that carries into the second verse as Mack turns to more lighthearted activities, trying to move past his paralyzing ambivalence. That's right after the break. Welcome back to dissect. Before the break, we heard Mack express a multitude of emotions, leading to indecisiveness. As the song continues into the second verse, he turns to lighter topics,

at least on the surface. on a Tuesday, I can move dates, I got something else to do day, always do hate if I do say, the duce with the homies like it's Kool-Aid. Me, I'm just trying to play it cool, jetty wise. Mac begins the second verse with a run of internal, multisyllabic rhymes, rapping, I feel like the weekend on a Tuesday, I can move dates. I got something else to do today. Always do hate.

If I do say, the do-say with the homies like it's Kool-laid. altering time to meet his whims, this section sees Mack push away the responsibilities of the work week in favor of drinking Duce, a brand of cognac. Interestingly, he compares this to drinking the sugary kids drink Kool-Aid. This is likely a callback to his song Kool-Aid and Frozen Pizza, an early hit from the 2010 Kids Mix Tate. Hey, Kool-Aid and Frozen Pizza. It's a work of art, I ain't tak a Mona Lisa. Dream of rocking crown, see me filling up with Freinas and got me laughing like a damn hyaineas. Mac here captures the joy of simple childhood pleasures and looks ahead to a future of greater success.

But now in perfecto, Kool-Aid has been replaced with alcohol, a representation of maturation, but also greater consequences. In light of his mind bugging on the hook, perhaps Mack is trying to capture some of that youthful, optimistic energy through the glossy, carefree haze alcohol provides. This escape through nostalgia is developed more with the next line. me, I'm just trying to play at Cool J anyways. He nods to the entertainment pioneer LL. Cool J, claiming he's just trying to chill out with his substance use. Cleverly, the vocals are altered in such a way that Jay and Anyways join together to sound like January's,

a winter month, tying into the word cool. This is the second time on the track that Mack has used this idea of playing it cool, the first being the opening of verse 1 when he said, Cool, calm, and collected, just holding my breath. There, Mack was holding back his feelings in order to play it cool on the surface. Now he's using drugs to play it cool. It's something we'll want to keep in mind, as it's not the last time we'll hear this dynamic in the song. Mind over matter, I'm purer than alcohol line.

Been stuck on album time. I gotta get out to shine. Fly on the wall shit I was bugging. Miss me like you getting withdrawal. I keep that coming. As the second verse continues, Mac wraps, Mind over Matter, I'm purer than alkaline, been stuck on album time, I gotta get out to shine. Mind over matter continues to thread of Mack's mental struggle as he attempts to push forward,

giving himself a boost through boasts, saying he's pure than alkaline. This plays off the pH scale, which measures how acidic or basic a water is on a scale from 0 to 14. Technically, Mac is claiming to be a 7, pure neutral, rather than the numbers above 7, that indicate alkaline water. This purity and water connected to Mack's mind continues the motific threat of water and Mack's mental state, and we see him realizing why he's been in such a foggy place. He's been stuck on album time.

Nearly every time Mac made an album, he would claim to be living in the studio, never going outside, dedicating his entire life and sacrificing his well-being in pursuit of creating music. He often likened his relationship to music as an addiction, using music as a release, as therapy, as a safe haven from the world.

Can't stop making music, man. That's like the biggest, that's my biggest addiction of all. The addictions. Like music, I like, for real. I need to make music. Like, when I go on long periods without recording something, I like, you don't want to be around me. I'm like, I'm insane.

Because it's too much thoughts in my head. While Mack's obsessive creativity made him extremely prolific, He also thought critically about how holding himself up in the studio for long periods could stunt his growth, as he says, I gotta get out to shine. This inside-outside dichotomy in Mack's attempts to find balance between the two is a central theme in swimming. Something established on the opening track Come Back to Earth when he said, Sunshine don't feel right when you're inside all day. Inside is both a physical place and a state of mind. Mack understands that while staying inside to process his raw emotion through his music is necessary.

He also can't hide in that secluded space. forever. He needs to go outside to shine. He needs to interact with the world to experience life, to express the light he's created, to grow. Mac then continues rapping, fly in the wall shit, I was bugging. Miss me like you getting withdrawal, I keep that coming. The phrase fly in the wall describes an unnoticed observer, tying into Mack not interacting with the world while also maintaining the image of an indoor room. Saying that he was bugging is obvious wordplay with him being a fly, but it's also tied to the hook, where he repeatedly says, I'm bugging to express the chaos in his mind. Given that Mack often used drugs while inside on album time, fly could also

be an allusion to being high, which is further developed in the following line, Miss Me Like You Getting Withdrawal, I keep that coming. This is another tie to him being on album time, as Mack here likens his music to drugs, with the withdrawal likely referring to the gap between 2016's Divine Feminine and 2018 swimming, one of the largest periods without music from Mac Miller in his life. Blind also contains a sexual innuendo with Keep That Coming, as Mac packages drugs, music, and sex all in one offering. Mac alters the lyrics a bit in the second pre-chorus, singing, I'm treading water, I know if I stop moving, I'll float.

Ain't nothing new. The first time we heard this section, Mack said he wouldn't care if he drowned. Now he realizes that by surrendering to the ocean's flow, he could float, which either has light or dark connotations depending on how we choose to think about it. On one hand, this is a peaceful submission to life and its imperfections, an acceptance of our inevitable struggles, and in this way, it's this acceptance that saves him that allows him to simply float at peace with wherever the waters take him. On the other hand, if Mack stops moving, stops fighting, it could be the death of him,

with float referring to a dead man's float. Either of these scenarios are possible if he gives up to outside forces. And again, like the inside-outside dichotomy, it feels as if Mac is attempting to figure out the appropriate balance, just enough fight, just enough submission. Floot also implies the weightlessness of being high. Whether floating in water or space, we continue to see Mack seek this ethereal lightness. Then in one of the more dramatic moments of the album, Mack and the music are abruptly cut off and a deep voice interjects,

Just play it cool, baby, just play it cool. You know, cool. We then hear a beer can crack open. The fact that this interrupts his thoughts about whether to keep fighting or succumb to the waters is incredibly revealing. For the third time in the song, Mack mentions playing it cool, or pretending everything is okay around others, and now is a directly linked to drinking. It recalls the central idea of the hook and the song more generally, where on the surface, Mac is making everything look fine, but beneath he's bugging.

In this way, using substances as a part of the charade, as to say no to a drink would be an admission that he doesn't have everything under control, including his drinking. But the fact that his internal thoughts are interrupted by the drink, this moment also pretty clearly illustrates that he's using the drink to temporarily escape those thoughts. as his thoughts quite literally stop when the beverage is opened. This is the dangerous temptation of drugs and alcohol. Their immediate short-term ability to inhibit anxiety is all too alluring, especially in a moment of panic. However, with continued use, tolerance levels increase and dependency grows,

which at its worst can leave your entire life in ruins, causing even more anxiety and an increased desire to use. This is the vicious, self-destructive cycle of addiction, which if you are personally struggling with, please know there is absolutely no shame in asking for help at any time ever. You don't have to play it cool. You can and should seek assistance. Addiction is not above anyone. Any of us could be sucked into that cycle under the right circumstances, so asking for help shouldn't be above anyone either. And this is the tragic reality of this moment in perfecto. Within the context of the beer can opening, the immediate repetition of the hook becomes far darker, as the refrain, it ain't perfect,

but I don't mind because it's working, feels like an all too accurate description of Mack's use of substances to alleviate his anxiety. The lyric, looking so fine on the surface, is also now directly linked to drinking to keep up the appearance of normalcy and control. Just play it cool, baby. Just play it cool, you know? Cool. Well, it ain't perfect but I don't mind because it's working. After this final rendition of the hook, Perfecto moves to a contrasting outro where Mac will personify his addiction to substances. The transition to this outro contains a few somewhat hidden but important sounds in the background. In the following passage, listen carefully for three distinct noises, a door opening, a faint voice saying what sounds like leave, and a door closing.

While these sounds are buried, they were very clearly thought about and put there for a reason. And now that you've been made aware of them, I want to play the passage again, and this time notice how there's a building tension in the instrumental that gets louder and louder, and how when the door closes, that building tension suddenly stops. It appears that what we're hearing is a musical depiction of Mack entering some kind of space where he'll be able to shut out the noise or stresses of the outside world. Given the lyric been stuck on album time, Mack's tendency to shut himself out from the world when working on music, and the fact that directly after this door closed we get a more intimate

musical setting and lyrical passage, we could be hearing Mack entering the recording booth, an isolated interior space that quite literally damns outside noise. At the same time, this moment comes after the cracking open of the beer can, and the lyrics he's about to sing pretty clearly personifies his relationship to drugs and alcohol. So he might be entering Mack's headspace when he's high, which also offers relief from outside stresses. The most important thing about both interpretations is that Mac is clearly going inside, either in the isolation of the recording booth or the isolation of a drug trip.

The most accurate interpretation might be actually both of these things, that we're hearing a depiction of Mack High in the studio, as music and substances were both self-described addictions Mac used to cope with outside noise, anxiety, and stress. We find more evidence for this interpretation with the new musical landscape that follows, which is a sharp contrast with what we've heard in the track to this point. The main instrument we hear is a wavering synth playing three notes, beginning with a C. After the C is drawn out, we briefly get a rise to an F before falling back to the C. Next we hear a similar move, but this time falling lower, from the C to a B flat, then back to the C. And so when looking at this part as a whole, we find that this C is our center of gravity,

and the part kind of wobbles back and forth, higher and then lower, but always returning to the C. To me, given the context of this part, this melodic line combined with the warped oscillation of the synthesizer, sounds like someone attempting to keep their balance, swaying from side to side, on the line, which would further our interpretation of this part depicting Mack's headspace after indulging in substances. Yeah, Tell me you love me, spin me around Pretty please pick me up in the air And don't put me down

You seen it all unfold Sat back and watched No in time don't give a fuck about clocks Until they stop Back sing Tell me you love me spin me around Pretty please pick me up in the air And don't put me down

Here Mack depicts his desire for love and ecstasy As a gleeful whirlwind Binding romantic relationships with a drug high The passage is imbued with a child-like vulnerability, evidenced in the youthful phrasing of, spin me around, pretty please, and pick me up in the air, all things small children say. This binding of love, drugs, and youthful bliss is the state that Mack seeks, one he wishes could be permanent, as he says, pick me up in the air and don't put me down.

As we covered on our last episode, this is something Mack knows is impossible, yet he still desires it, like we all do, forever chasing permanent euphoria. As if Mack has been tossed into the air, he then looks down from his new vantage point rapping, seen it all unfold, sat back and watched, knowing time don't give a fuck about clocks until they stop. If Mac is continuing the high of the outro's first few lines, he might be disassociating due to drugs, looking down with an objective distance at his own life unfolding, as if he is time itself watching the universe unfold. This experience of momentary cosmic clarity is what drugs can offer us, and Mac reveals a bleak truth about the universe, that it doesn't

actually care all that much. But in a more mortal sense, This line can also be commenting on how all too often we don't care about others, we don't give them the time of day, until they've stopped moving, until they've passed away. This kind of hazy, blurring of the lines continues the remainder of the outro. ...until they stop. Bare feet running late, her car started even though the only thing that she'd driving a hard bargain. More important is I'm kind of sort of out the door, but she put me back together when I'm out of order. Perfect.

bare feet, running late, her car started, even though the only thing she's driving is a hard bargain. The bare feet here capture Mack's feet on the album cover, which are dirty from his time on the road, and represent a vulnerability to the ground, to not being high in the air or swimming in water. This might represent being sober, with running late her car started, implying a pressing or urgent need to get in a car, to be transported, which continues the vehicle metaphor for drug use. The hard bargain she's driving seems like the high risk that come with the rewards of being high. Mack then concludes, more important as I'm kind of sort of out the door, but she put me back together when I'm out of order. With the phrase kind of sort of out the door, it seems like

Mac is testing his ability to go outside, outside of his mind, outside of the studio and into the world where he can shine. But he immediately relents to the allure of substances, considering himself out of order and wanting to be put back together again. By getting in the proverbial car, he's forfeiting his independence, his ability to walk soberly with bare feet, instead submitting to the trip offered by drugs, feeling relief at the notion of being fixed, of problems being solved, if only temporarily. It's almost a sigh of relief, as Mack utters the final word of the track, Perfect. This final word is at once sincere and ironic. Sincerely Mac feels put together again. He feels perfect thanks to the drugs alleviating his

struggles, picking him up in the air. However, from an outside perspective, we know that this is not perfect at all. And with the tracks thorough emphasis of Mack trying to be honest but not being able to really express everything, we get the feeling that this utterance of perfect is a defeated, lame attempt at covering up his understanding that he has not chosen a sustainable solution. While the high may feel perfect to Mac in the moment,

there's bound to be a come down, as Mac knows all too well. Brilliantly, this dualistic use of the word perfect is underscored by what's happening musically. When Mac says the word, the harmony beneath him is consonant. We have an A flat in the bass and a C in the synth, creating what's called a major third. A major third is a basis of a major chord, which is the chord we typically associate with

brightness or levity the feeling Mac has when high. In the context of the song, this would be a perfectly good place to end. It's consonant, meaning there's no tension in the chord. It feels resolved and complete, matching Mack's utterance of the word perfect and his feeling of being put back together again by substances. But just like the high, this resolution is only temporary. as co-producer John Bryan moves to this swelling dissonance. This tension unbearingly intensifies until the song suddenly ends.

Here we have an F sharp in the bass, and an F in the high synth, which together sound like this. While one is playing high and the other low, what we're hearing is essentially something called a minor second. Here's what these same notes sound like together when they're played in the same register. It's not common for songs to end with such obvious dissonance, and given this chord comes directly,

after Max says perfect over a consonant harmony, we should recognize this unresolved dissonance as significant, symbolic of the dark reality of Mack's temporary perfection. Indeed, recall that Mack quite literally shut the door on the mounting tension when this outro began, going inside the recording booth and getting high. But sooner or later, the high fades, that outside noise and interior anxiety mounts again, and you're faced with a choice. Do you stay inside? Or do you put your other foot out the door, go outside, and walk barefoot through the world, vulnerable to the imperfections on the road, but shining nonetheless. Conclusions

Well, it ain't perfect but I don't mind because it's perfect. The first words on perfecto are, it ain't perfect, while its last is, perfect, a lyrical circle that captures the nexus of imperfect and perfect, the reality of our lives and world. We find further development of this duality in the song title, which is curiously titled Perfecto rather than simply Perfect. On one level, with Perfecto being the Spanish word for Perfect, Mack might be nodding to the fact that this song was produced in Chile.

But it seems likely that Mack is doing something clever with the word, as the O at the end of Perfecto could represent a circle, alluding to the concept of a perfect circle. The circle motif is something that will become more prominent as the double album Swimming in Circles progresses, but we can also look back to Mack's album Good A.M. and realize he's used this title before, in a double song called Perfect Circle, Godspeak.

Here Mac asks, can you draw a perfect circle? The implication is that none of us can draw a perfect circle on our own. It's not really possible without special tools. It serves as a reminder of our inherent imperfection, quite similar to the title and theme of perfecto. And on both songs, we witnessed Mac attempting to figure out what to do in the face of this imperfection. Drugs offer the temporary feeling of perfection while simultaneously being detrimentally imperfect.

But as we heard throughout the song, and swimming more generally. The perfect, imperfect motif translates to more than just drugs. It refers to the very experience of life and the nature of the universe. We feel joy and we suffer. We succeed and we fail. We progress and we get set back. These are the small circles and a larger circle of our life and death. We move through these stages, but there isn't necessarily a set path. It's all chaos, the nebulous waters we attempt to survive while time looks on, uninterested. The water doesn't care about us after all. It gives us life and it takes it away. We could succumb and drown, fight and swim, struggle indecisively in tread, or give up and float. We can even try to swim but be

overtaken by a storm, or give up only to find ourselves transported to the shore. All of these options are available to us always. And while we do get to make our own choices, our results will always be a product of our actions and the tides of the universe. We are at once in control and totally not control. At the time of Swimming's release, Max mindset was becoming more and more at peace with this reality. Quote, I think that the beauty is in being able to be in both places. I wouldn't want a life that's completely carefree. I've had a life that was completely carefree. The very beginning of my career was completely carefree. I felt invincible. I felt just zero sadness. And then I've had all sadness, just all darkness. But I think being in a place where he can spend

time in both and gain perspective on that other side, makes you appreciate what each brings to the table, and you get to experience both. I just think that makes the most sense to me at this point in my life. For now, that's what I think helps create more growth for myself, unquote. On perfecto and throughout swimming more generally, we find Mack working towards this acceptance of the dualistic reality of the human experience. From the vinyl crackles, the two-part song structure, the first and last lyrics creating a circle, the consonant and dissonance of the final few moments, to the song title itself, Mac has expertly developed the theme of things being at once imperfect and perfect throughout the entire track. We feel like shit and we play it cool. We take

care of ourselves and we fall apart. And all that we hope for is that when we zoom out from these smaller cycles that our overall trajectory is upward, one of growth, one where we might experience more highs than we do lows. This is the imperfect reality of our lives in a world that is itself far from perfect, but it is all that we have, so we might as well accept it as its own form of perfection. This episode of Dysect was written by Camden Ostrander and me. If you enjoyed today's episode, please tell a friend about the season or share on social media and tag at Dysect Podcast. Limited merch for this season is available at Dysectpodcast.com, which is linked in the show notes. The music for the show was composed by Bureaucratic, instrumental recreations by Andrew Atwood,

audio editing by Eric Bass and me. All right, thanks everyone. Talk to you, next week.