Dissect - S9E8 - Small Worlds by Mac Miller

Episode Date: November 23, 2021

We continue our season-long analysis of Mac Miller’s Swimming with its eighth track, “Small Worlds.” Shop Season 9 merchandise here. 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

When Mac Miller performed a string of intimate shows at the hotel cafe at the time of swimming's release, he was testing the waters of new touring material, very aware of the audience reactions to different songs. Luckily for Small Worlds, one of Mac's favorite songs on the album, the live experience was perfect. That was like, one of my favorites off the album. And my homie, my best friend, literally was like, he was like, his one's going to go crazy by. And what happens? It's nuts.

That's the one I got to do. It's nuts, but it's also chill. Like, it's a slower record. On the record, though. I appreciate it. As Mac says here, small worlds is a slower record and chill, but it still goes nuts. Mac had achieved the alchemy of finding excitement and joy at slow speeds, the very essence of Mac's efforts documented on swimming.

From Spotify, I'm Cole Kushna, and this is Dissect, long-form musical analysis broken into short digestible episodes. Today we continue our serialized analysis of Mac Miller Swimming with his eighth track, Small Worlds. Small Worlds was produced by Tabe East, with additional production by Carter Lang. The track's drum sounds come from a sample of Sweet Thursday's 1968 song, Gilbert Street. These drums made the rounds throughout the 2010s, there were sampled and used in childish Gambino's urn, Thundercats Evangelion, Tori Moise's So Many Details, and now how these drums are used in small worlds. Over these drums, we get a bouncing bass line that climbs up before falling back down over and over.

Next we get one of the more interesting sounds in the song. This seems like it was produced by a single vocal note that was sampled and then mapped out across a keyboard so that you can play that sample just like you would a piano. For example, you start with a single vocal note. You can then sample this note and map it across an entire keyboard, meaning when you played a key on that keyboard, it would play that pitch using the original vocal source, just pitched higher or lower. This allows you to essentially play the sample just like any other keyboard instrument, including multi-note or polyphonic chords, which is what I think we hear on Small Worlds.

Interestingly, what we hear production-wise on Small Worlds wasn't how the song started. According to producer Tay Beast, it was once much different, with different lyrics and tempo. Small Worlds actually started off as a record called Don't Try This at Home. It was a lot faster than what it turned out as the final product. But I kept hearing it different. It had a lot of stuff on it too. It was just a lot of sounds. I took a lot of stuff out, slowed it down, played it for him,

and then he recorded a new record, which was Small Worlds. Changed, you know, some of the verses or whatever. and he sat on it for a while we did another record with John Bryan and then he called me and said hey John Mayer's gonna play on Small World, you're cool with that I'm like what type of question is that

you know what I mean? Of course As Tabies mentions here Small Worlds features a guitar part from John Mayer And I got to Max House and he played me this thing he had just worked on that morning and I went give me a guitar I'm in Yeah.

And I think something to do with him having worked on it that day, it was still wide open and fresh. And there's a lot of songs I hear people play for me, and I go, man, I wish I was on this song, but it's done. And I picked up a guitar, and I went bumb-bub, the bum-bub, bum-bub. And we had such a great time and laughed. And I said to him, no cash, no credit. I said, I'm just happy to do it, man. That's awesome. And he said, hey, can I?

I said, I don't want people talking about. I want people talking about your record. Mayor's feature on Small Worlds is especially notable, as all the way back in 2012, Mack reflected on his path of playing all kinds of music throughout his life and his desire to make timeless songs like John Mayer. When I was 10 years old, I was playing a guitar, and I used to play for, you know, whenever I would just be that kid

that tried to pick up girls by singing them like John Mayer. Oh, let's be good to your daughter. Like, seriously, like that. Whatever. And it worked, man. And I always used to say one day, you know, people are going to learn my songs like I learn their songs. Not only was mayor's inclusion a full circle moment, but the relationship between Mack and

John appears to have been one fortified by small world's themes. There are few people as familiar with tabloids, celebrity breakups, and the media circus as mayor, who has also publicly navigated sobriety. This is why, on a song that grapples with the struggles of fame and searches for acceptance with that experience, mayor's presence is almost a musical voice of wisdom, a fortifying backbone. As Mayor described in an Instagram post tribute for Mac, quote, I gave him whatever guidance I thought I had the right to you, having been through the press ringer in the past, and wanting him to understand that none of that noise could ever really take a bite out of the music he was

about to put out. Yeah. The world is so small till it ain't. Yeah. I'm building up a wall till it break. She hated when I call and it's late. I don't want to. to keep you waited, I hope I never keep you waited.

Mack begins singing, The World is So Small Till It Ain't. I'm building up a wall till it break. Building off the Sandcastle symbolism of the previous track ladders, Mac exhibits his wisdom that power and creation are no match for the passage of time and inevitable change. These lines also continue the motif of dichotomy on swimming, as nearly every song is centered around a central symbol that contains duality, both dark and light readings. Here we are presented with the world that is simultaneously small or large depending on your perspective or experience in the moment. Likewise, we have a growing wall, a symbol of stability that eventually breaks. The specific phrasing of Till It Ain't is reminiscent of what's the use.

When Mack rapped, it's been a while but I'm down till I'm out and it is what it is till it ain't. In this sense, Till it ain't embodies an existential reckoning with temporality of Mac accepting the constant revolving of end after end after end. finally given Mack's organization of the couplet, we also have a potential narrative. Mack had a small world until he blew up and became famous, seeing the whole world. This then led him to secluding himself away, often in intense periods of creation, until he would have to come out and share more music. Mack then continues singing, she hated when I call, and it's late. I don't want to keep you waiting. I hope I never keep you waiting.

Just like the regrettable text messages and unknown neighbors of the album opener come back to Earth, Mac laments a feeling of disconnect, feeling like a burden on the ones he loves. We also recognize that being late is becoming another motif on the album, and is usually paired with what Mack describes as bullshitting, meaning indulging in sex or drugs. On perfecto, he described being late to catch a car that seemingly represented the trips of drugs. On ladders, he described his delay in trying to change and missing his flight due to bullshitting, which seemed to imply his attempts at getting sober.

Here on small worlds, Mac calls late and doesn't want to keep others waiting. presumably due to his own lateness, and we might again suspect that his tardiness is caused by indulgence. We can even look back to the song Dang from Mack's previous album The Divine Feminine and come across a similar scenario, where he drunkenly calls a lover late at night and they hang up on him. Generally speaking, Dang is about how impossible it is to make sense of a rocky up-and-down relationship. In the excerpt we just heard, Mack depicts himself using alcohol to cope, trying to reconnect with a lover but only making things worse. When asked to explain the line to genius,

Max said that he felt it was a universal experience. Callate a drunk, you hang up. Yeah, man. Everyone's been there. You just kind of doing this. Or sorry, doing this. Yeah. When's the last time it's happening?

You're the next question, motherfucker. This hasn't happened in a long time. I'll say that. When Max says everybody's been there just doing this, He first puts his fingers to his head before saying sorry and correcting himself, pantomiming shooting himself in the foot. The idea here is that drunkenly calling late is not going to remedy something that is falling apart, especially when that relationship may have decayed due to substance abuse.

Walt may have been a genuine slip, Mack first pointing his fingers at his head, reveals the existential quality to this dilemma, that fucking up relationships fucks you up in the process. when you broke and I just want to ball maybe dunk but I never been tall I might trip I never fall God knows I came close

I know this at home Mac begins his first verse by continuing to draw out the cadence of the hook rapping I think I know it all but I don't this is a universal admission of our hubris a mantra like reminder that we are all flawed small and what we know or we think we know will always pale

in comparison to everything that we don't know Mac then wraps why you always at the mall when you're broke, and I just want a ball, maybe dunk, but I've never been tall. Similar to the impossibility of knowing everything, Mack describes two scenarios in which we can desire what we cannot have. He uses ball as a double entendre for wanting to flex and spend lots of money at the mall, as well as being able to play basketball. At 5 foot 7 inches, dunking wasn't really in the cards for Mac,

which you know he was totally cool with. It's a great thing to do. I love being short. but I never in my life has wished, I was 6'1. It's not like I ever wanted to be that, because that doesn't sound cool to me. Like being tall and cool. It sounds stupid. I would hate to be able to dunk, you know?

Like, would hate to, like, give high-fives to people like that instead of jumping. It's so much cooler to look up at people and feel inferior. It's way better. To be honest, I just love, the body God gave me. Although played off with levity, there's something here that sticks, a dissatisfaction with

the idea that there are some things we'll never do, but learning to accept that. Matt continues rapping, I might trip, I never fall, God knows I came close. Tripping here seems to refer to making mistakes, but not falling means Matt continues to walk, a parallel to swimming. The phrase God knows I came close implies Mac has kept some of these fall secret between him and God. Given that the use of trip has been a motif of the thing. swimming used to insinuate a drug trip, Mac might be connecting this road of mistakes to drug use and sobriety, where the fall refers to an overdose, perhaps a fatal one. If we think of the

finality that Mac might have been evoking with this fall, God knows I came close might refer to the many dark times in Mac's life that he vulnerably communicated with us. The highs and lows of Mac's career were all consuming, and as an audience, we saw so much. Thus, the connection between Mac and his listener can be extremely intimate, and perhaps this is why, after noting the mistakes he's made, Mack cautions us with, don't try this at home. And while this interpretation so far takes the lines with their serious implications, given the previous basketball reference, we wonder if Mack might have been playfully alluding to a viral moment he was a part of at a celebrity charity basketball game in 2016. It was here that famous streetball player, bone collector,

faked a pass over Mack's head and then immediately hit him with a stutter step, metaphorically breaking Mack's ankles into a million pieces and leaving him on the ground. Here's Mac on Power 106 reflecting on this moment. What? We saw you, bro. We saw you, bro. We all saw you. How did I end up?

How did it? That was awesome. Yes, it was. That was awesome. Like, I'm happy that happened to someone and I'm happy it was me. What are you talking about? What am I talking about? Yeah.

My soul getting taken from my body and put on display in front of everyone. Millions. But you know what the most, you know what the, you know what the, it was great. You're the most talking about person. Was there an offensive foul? Maybe a little bit. But we're not worried about that. We're not worried about the offensive foul because we're here for entertainment.

Right. As energetic and wonderful as this clip is, all the themes are there. Mack describes the highlight of his failure as taking the soul out of his body, cast the fall as an amazing experience and plays it up for entertainment. It's an example of him tripping but not falling. Really, it's a beautiful sentiment, so indicative of Mack's spirit, reflecting that simultaneous good and bad Mac was so adept at channeling. Finally, the closing line of this section of the verse is, Don't Try This at Home.

Recall that Tay B said that Don't Try This at Home was the initial title of the song, so we might take this to be, at least at some point, a foundational idea for the track. Typically, the phrase is a disclaimer of caution. When a person who is trained in an area of danger warns onlookers that they shouldn't try to replicate their example. This appears to represent Mack in both his celebrity and drug use, as he warns us not to emulate the mistakes he's made and has so vulnerably shared with us through his music. I know I probably need to do better. Fuck whoever. Keep my shit together. You never told me being rich was so lonely. Nobody know me. Oh well, hard to complain from this five-star hotel. I'm always in

the rush. I've been thinking too much. But keep it on the hush. No one needed no. Just Just us, that's really all it takes. We don't need nothing but today, today, today, today. Switching up his flow, Mac raps, I know I probably need to do better, fuck whoever, keep my shit together. He admits a need to improve, similar to the admission that he doesn't know at all. Fuck whoever feels like a broad shot at anyone that might be talking shit or attempting to bring him down. Feeling alienated, Mac then raps, you never told me being rich was so lonely. Nobody know me, oh well, hard to complain from this five-star hotel.

Lonely inside his small world, Mac wants to express dissatisfaction, but also feels that he shouldn't, and that he should be grateful. The line, Nobody Know Me, Oh Well, is a resigned acceptance of the impossibility at knowing another's identity. As we've previously noted this season, Mac once explained his concept of identity saying, quote, I just don't believe I'm an actual person. I'm actually just an idea to everybody. We don't actually exist as people to anybody. we exist through the ideas that we give to the world." While this hazy concept of identity is true of all of us, it seems this dynamic would be naturally exaggerated by Mack's fame,

where we naturally project our estimations of who a celebrity is based on what we see in the media or hear in their music. Regretting how lonely he feels, he says, Nobody Know Me. And as we noted on ladders, Mac using the phrase, No Me, is potentially a hominemic reference to know me leisure, Mac's longtime romantic partner that he met before he was famous,

when he was still in high school. If this is the case, the nod feels tragic, as Matt considers losing a relationship that began before the fame. It might feel that no one can possibly know him in that intimate way again. The hotel reference in these lines continues the threat of turn the hotel to a castle from the song Ladders, and it also connects with the song Buttons, which was released alongside Small Worlds and Programs in 2018. This is not the wake-up cup. I am no hotel operator. I don't own nobody favors. I don't know how to fuck I've been around. So long, busy as an escalator in the crowd did mom.

It's like every year I realize my house too small. Get paid, upgrade two cribs, new maids, more flights, few planes, live out my suitcase. Lose days like loose chains. Sharing the consumer symbolism of the hotel and mall. Mac flexes amidst the rush of superstar excess, rapping, Every year I realize my house too small, get paid, upgrade, two cribs, new maids, more flights, flew planes, live out my suitcase, lose days like loose chains. There's no end to his consumption, no home that feels like enough, and no stability for Mack in this lifestyle.

Mac then continues small worlds rapping, I'm always in a rush, I've been thinking too much, but keep it on the hush no one need to know just us. Here Mac offers an intimately raw admission of his problems. He's been moving too fast, bugging, making something out of nothing, and he's in danger. And yet as soon as he lets this out, he tries to keep it quiet, asking us to keep it private. it's really close to asking for help, but it also hedges the bet, as if Mack wants to be able to admit his shortcomings without an extreme reaction, perhaps in hopes of being accepted as imperfect, of his vulnerability, fostering connection and support. Mac then closes out the verse saying,

That's really all it takes, we don't need nothing but today. On its own, this is a refrain for mindfulness and presence of accepting today as all we have, all we need, a sentiment Mac has been striving towards the entire album. However, given the previous line, it seems Mac is continuing that train of thought, that all it takes is that intimate connection through vulnerability he was longing for. For Mac, this vulnerability was the foundation of love. Vulnerability, man. It's love being able to be completely vulnerable with somebody.

Here, Mac expresses his belief that real connection and bond is built through vulnerability. Given that Mac seems to be addressing his listeners directly in this final part of the verse, we might wonder if Mac is using the music itself to engender that bond, that vulnerability. We recall that at the time of swimming, Mac stated that if we wanted to know him or how he was feeling, the best chance at understanding that was just by listening to his music. This is a beautiful ideal, the notion that a creation could capture some true sense of self or emotion. But Mac has also stated that this isn't always true, or at least has some limitations.

For instance, when asked about the song ROS and its vulnerable detailing of his personal love life and struggles, Mack admitted the error of attempting to save everything with a song. I don't know how to put it into words, you know, how do you put love in the words like that? Did that song help the relationship, come to a better understanding? No, I always think that that can fix the problem. Like, you know what I mean? Like, there's an issue. I'll make a song. You know, that doesn't work. There's like reality. That moment from me. Reality undermines the ideal of a perfect artistic style for our struggles. When a song is

made or artist seen, it's a point in a conversation, an exchange between artist and audience. And it appears that part of the difficulty for Mack is that while he gives so much to that conversation, he also inhabits an odd position. He's revealing things about himself, but not in dialogue, and he's disconnected from the plethora of conversations that stem from his widespread work. This separation of fame and the mirage of familiarity plays into the loneliness Mac described in this small world. When asked if the purpose of his music was bigger than himself, Mack explained this separation between him and his fans. It's like a group of kids that I, like, stay in touch with

that, like, were super loners from when I gather, and they've, like, kind of found each other and formed, like, a real friendship. Which is super dope to me, you know, like, and I just, like, have gotten letters from them and stuff and stuff like that. So, you know, that's, like, it helps when you... when you know that your music is helping people.

And then... But does it also make you feel less alone? Yeah, I'd say. I mean, but actually, no. It actually, I think, adds to it because you're... You're the boss. You're making this music, and now your music is touching people and it's a part of you. But it's not you.

Okay. So these kids... are being helped by the art that is created, you know. And then, like, you start looking at it, you're like, okay, well, that's not even me. You don't know me, you know, like, let me try and think about the people that are actually in my life, you know, like, who I actually know. So, like, it becomes that separation. And I think the second thing is why I know that it's for other people was because I, think about what music I, like, fan of did for me, you know?

And then, like, putting myself, like, replacing myself with, like, who I was a fan of is, like, mind-blown because you're like, no way. There's no way that someone could look at me. Like, I look at artists that I love and people do, I guess. So while Mac at times may think his art is the best way to know him, He also understands that art isn't a holistic portrait. Fans only see a facade created by his art, a wall between him and others that makes him feel isolated and alone in his five-star hotel.

After a repetition of the song's hook, we get this beautiful bridge. Cleverly, this measured section comes directly after Mack told us that he didn't want to keep us waiting. Mack is taking his time, becoming one with the music, not rushing the pace or into the next thought. We aren't waiting so much as we are present in the moment. That is until Mac speaks up again and delivers us some more bars. That's right after the break. Welcome back to Dissect. Before the break, we heard Mack taking his time, allowing the music to breathe.

It's after this section that we get the second verse. Got a bad attitude, playing till I'm out of moves. No need for shame. I get more peace and slow speeds. Go beat the game. Young control freak gets cold in my veins. I'm below freezing. Snow season.

They know that I... Mac begins the second verse rapping, Yeah, got a bad attitude, playing till I'm out of moves. There's another dimension added to the playing motif here, that Mac might not be taking a situation or life seriously. That is, he's playing, fooling around, moving aggressively or without thinking until he loses the game. Almost in reaction to this,

Mac then reminds himself, No need for shame, I get more peace at slow speeds. Instead of playing the game of life too fast, Mac wants to more mindfully take his time. The shame he refers to seems to be the doubts or anxiety stemming from his reckless action, as if he's embarrassed by his behavior. But by saying there's no need for shame, he implies that judging himself or his past isn't productive, that it doesn't contribute to his attempts to find peace at a slower speed.

Reflecting on struggles throughout his career, Mac told MPR, quote, Everything just takes time. By nature, I'm a pretty impatient person in certain aspects. That's kind of the nature of the beast. It's like, that's what I want. Okay, I'm going to sit here and work until I'm there. So that's why I kind of go from zero to a hundred on things. I'm either not doing it or I'm doing it way too much. So I think I had to learn patience to let the depth build. You just got to let it happen. You can't rush to have people know all the facets of your capabilities. It's cool that people take their time, unquote. Mack's phrasing of slow speeds in the verse also alludes to the continued motif of driving. And here Mack notes the danger of

driving too fast, and realizes that taking more control of the wheel and being level-headed will provide more peace of mind. Mack seemed to be acting out this thinking in real life as well, telling Rolling Stone that in an effort to become more focused on his reality, quote, I was walking everywhere today. I literally walked all the way down to the closest street I could walk to just to get coffee. It felt great, unquote. Mac expressed a similar emphasis on slowing down and not needing to feel ashamed after his 2018 DUI. As we've previously noted, Matt came to see that incident as a much-needed sign. You ever feel like invincible?

I lived a certain life for 10 years and faced almost no real consequence at all. I had no version of the story that didn't end up with me being fine. Yeah, I made a stupid mistake. I'm a human being. Like, drove home drunk, but it was the best thing that could have happened. best thing that could have happened. I needed that. I needed to run into that light pole and literally

like have the whole thing stop. Matt continues the verse rapping, Go Beat the Game, Young Control Freak, It's Cold in My Vains, I'm Below Freezing, Snow Season made me. It seems he's talking to himself, reflecting on the meteoric early period of his career. As he told Craig Jenkins in 2018, quote, I think when I first started, I thought I was going to be the biggest thing in the world. When everything first popped off, I remember there was this time when I was the most Googled thing on the internet. It was like diet, carrots, and Mac Miller. Something crazy like that. At that point, in the very beginning, all I ever knew was everything sold out, highest numbers possible, number one, you know, millions of single sold.

That was the starting point. And I think I got to a certain level that I was kind of like, oh shit, let me slow it down, unquote. Max's ensuing bars about the cold being in his veins continues the thread of basketball and sports references as to have ice in your veins as an athlete means to be cool under pressure. This also connects to Mack's previous attempts at boasting on swimming, whether being cooler than the breeze on what's the use or his push to play it cool on perfecto. The motivic thread here seems to be that the cold is representative of keeping emotions in check or displaying wealth via iced out jewelry.

However, Max struggles against this idea. we've seen him seek the piece of fluidity, of water, in contrast to the rigid ice. While the snow season might have made Mac into the rich celebrity he became, we've witnessed him on swimming constantly seeking something warmer to become more at peace, whether that be the sun or the water. They know that I solely my space, don't want to grow old so I smoke just in case. She said that I glow below the waist and the stroke is just so PG.

All I got is a little bit of space. After space and time, drums shapes and lines of a world late. After taking a beat, Mac wraps, they know that I so need my space, don't want to grow old, so I smoke just in case. The pause in his delivery cleverly reflects the space he needs. While Mack doesn't want to move as fast as he once did, he also doesn't want to grow old, and his decision to smoke just in case is a reference to his continued habit of smoking cigarettes. Studies have shown on average smokers die 10 years earlier than non-smokers, which seems to be the foundational idea of Mack smoking so he doesn't grow old.

As if continuing to hold on to this juvenile attitude, Mac then wraps, she say that I glow below the waist, and the stroke is just so PGA. The glow below the waist indicates that Mack's junk radiates with glory. He apparently uses this shining phallus with a depth skill, as the stroke is just so PGA refers to the professional golfers association, with stroke being the pure swings pros used to get the ball in the hole if you catch his drift. Mack then switches his cadence, more singing than rapping, saying, All I got is a little bit of space and time, drawing shapes and lines of a world we made.

It's a beautifully simple description of his life, present in the same. space and time of our existence, creating a world with us, tying into his idea that each song is a world or planet. Mack's reference to drawing shapes and lines also carries with it whimsical, childlike freedom, something Max seems symbolically enamored with for years. Here's Matt comparing himself to the Herald and the Purple Cran children's books. Yeah, so the Harold and Purple Cran is like, it's like a kid who has a little crayon and he draws his reality, right? So to me, that's like, that, was a place that I would, did I feel like I was in? My brother actually dubbed me that. My brother said

you're like Harold and the Purple Grand. That's how I see you. Matt continues the verse. Tomorrow may be right around the corner, but I swear it's going to be worth it if I make you wait. Here Mack offers a different perspective to the idea of waiting that was mentioned in the hook. There he expresses that he doesn't want to keep us or a partner waiting, but here he promises the weight will be worth it, which seems to mean that his attempts to figure it out and learn to live more slowly might take some time, but the fruits of that labor and the life he's creating will outweigh the time it took. This sense of optimism is confirmed with the final line. There's somewhere above you, keep reaching up. That's really all it takes.

We don't need nothing but today. Again, Mac emphasizes being content in the present moment as the way up, rather than missing it by staying stuck in our heads. As Mac said earlier, we can get more peace at slow speeds. This idea is in stark contrast to the constant pursuit of the unattainable, such as our initial image of Mack broke at the mall or trying to dunk. Instead, Mack lets the weightlessness of letting go carry him up, guiding his progress skyward. After a repetition of the chorus, Small Worlds unexpectedly morphs into an entirely different

soundscape for the song's outro. The piano part was performed by Aja Grant and written separately from the main portion of the song. It was actually one of several piano ideas Grant would send to Mack, and Mack attached this particular idea to the end of the song on his own. The piano part modulates the song into B-flat minor and is full of beautifully rich seventh, ninth, and 13th chords, giving this section its jazzy characteristic, which Mack plays into by adding intimate cafe-style finger snaps. The progression is based loosely on descending chromatic lines in the left hand, which to my ears colors the piece with a bit

of melancholic or introspective quality, which Mac plays into as he reflects on mistakes he's made in his attempts to get things right. Yeah nine times out of ten I get it wrong That's why I wrote this song Tell myself to hold on I can feel my finger slipping In the motherfucking instant I'll be gone

Do you want it all if it's all mediocre Staring at the wall And the wall full of posters Looking in my dreams Who I want to be I guess you gotta see it to believe Who I've been a full... MacRaps, nine times out of ten I get it wrong

That's why I wrote this song similar to opening the track with I think I know at all but I don't Mack once again starts by acknowledging his flaws and shortcomings these imperfections are why he wrote this song which positions music and creation as a salve for the inherent wounds of existence Mac then says tell myself to hold on I can feel my fingers slipping and a motherfucking instant I'll be gone these are some pretty chilling lines especially in light of Mac's fate the call to hold on is a call to stay alive the imagery of trying to hold on and your fingers slipping

evokes hanging on a cliff or ledge with some beckoning abyss below, and here it seems to be used as a symbol for persevering through the low points of your life, when you just want to give up. The difficulty of maintaining a grip also evokes tension and struggle, reminiscent of swimming, where the danger of drowning is ever present. Mack's specific phrasing of Hold On and the strength it takes to do so might be a nod to one of Mack's favorite musical creations, Hold On Be Strong by Outcast.

Citing this song, Mac once tweeted in 2014, quote, things fall apart, things come together. Everything is happening exactly as it's supposed to. Hold on and be strong, unquote. Years later on swimming, Mac was still holding on, exhibiting the circular, returning nature of our struggles. Mac then wraps, do you want it all if it's all mediocre? In relation to the references of fame throughout small worlds, it appears Mac is asking a younger pre-celebrity version of himself if he'd still want to go down the same path if he knew there'd still be dissatisfaction, that notoriety and public success would not create fulfillment on its own. It also seems to tie into the idea of constantly chasing the unattainable from the hook, or a now successful Mac seemingly has it all,

but understands that having it all is much more complicated than appears from a distance. Tying into this idea, Matt continues, staring out the wall and the wall full of posters, looking at my dreams, who I want to be. I guess you've got to see it to believe. Using the classic imagery of a childhood bedroom with posters of celebrities and musicians covering the walls, Mac looks back to a time when he didn't know what fame felt like, when fame still felt like the dream he wanted to attain. Now having experienced fame for himself, Mac understands how those posters, those dreams,

were flat, incomplete depictions of superstars and what celebrity life is actually like. It's a tragic image that captures the optimism, purity, and blissful naivety of childhood and the more harsh reality of adulthood. And specifically in Mack's case, how fame doesn't eradicate sadness, discontent, or loneliness, and sometimes can even exaggerate those feelings. I guess you gotta see it to believe. Oh, I've been a fool, but it's cool.

That's what human beings do. Keep your eyes to the sky, never glued to your shoes. Guess there was a time when my mind was consumed, but the sun coming out now, clouds start to move. Don't tell me nothing but the truth. I'm tired, I don't got a spare second. When I lose, when it loves, I don't keep counting. Nobody checking.

continues wrapping a sequence full of internal rhymes. Oh, I've been a fool, but it's cool. That's what human beings do. Keep your eyes to the sky, never glued to your shoes. Guess there was a time when my mind was consumed, but the sun coming out now, clouds start to move. Continuing the metaphoric utilization of weather throughout swimming, the sun is coming out. Happiness is on the horizon. In terms of mindfulness, it's no coincidence that as soon as Mac is outside and looking at the sky, aware of its presence, that the clouds begin to part. In tandem with the previous lines about being inside looking at posters, this may remind us of when Mack caution, don't try this at home. That is, we need to get out of the house, out of our heads, we need to live. The time when his mind was consumed can refer to many of Mack's struggles, whether that be substances, anxiety, or depression. This consumed mind also refers to when Mack was fixated on the posters on his wall, enamored with celebrity.

As he once said, quote, Being famous used to just defeat me, I wouldn't leave my house because I was worried, worried about someone being like, oh, are you Mac Miller? And then the rest of the night, I couldn't be myself. I couldn't be the one without anything to say. So at that point, I was like, I'm just going to focus on living and going outside and just getting my life right, unquote. Max consumed mine also had an impact on his music, and he found that if he can maintain the importance of music in his life, he can move past the anxieties and doubts that arise when your measurement

of success is the opinions of other people. Um, this is how I feel about it. The music business doesn't have to swallow you. You know what I mean? Like, it doesn't have to be this evil monster. But I think the thing that's important is keeping music sacred and under no circumstances jeopardizing that. Like, it's okay to believe in yourself against all odds and, like, fail.

It's okay to fail. And I think that the fear of failure a lot of the times allows people to be swallowed whole by the music industry. Because it's just like they get kind of scared and jumpy like, oh shit, you don't think this is going to work. And then you fold. Mack continues the outro rapping. Don't tell me nothing but the truth. I'm tired. I don't got a spare second.

In other words, Mac doesn't have the time for bullshit. Cleverly, Mac executes some wordplay around cars. Mac is tired like car tires because. he doesn't have a spare second, as in a spare tire. He's worn for wear without a backup. Given Mack's use of both bullshitting and the motif of cars as references to drugs throughout swimming, Mac might be saying that he can't continue using anymore, reminding us of the many times he worked toward sobriety. During the good a.m. era, Mack told a story in which, after using cocaine, he realized that he didn't know his intern's name, yet Mac was saved in the intern's phone as

my hero. He said, quote, I lost it. I couldn't stop crying. And that's when it hit me that even then, I could still have a positive impact on some people's lives. More than anything, it was mostly me realizing I needed to take responsibility for my life and not let this great opportunity slip away, and be a man and get myself better, unquote. Finally, Matt closes a song with some parting wisdom, win or lose, win or lose, I don't keep count, nobody checking. As a culmination of the track's multiple references to sports. Mac realizes he doesn't actually have to play the game. Society's expectations, the pressure to succeed without mistakes, it's all a facade. Nobody's really checking. Nobody actually cares.

All alleviating this internalized pressure of perfection helps calm down anxiety and allows us to understand that happiness or contentment is not necessarily in results, but in the effort that we put into the act itself. This also speaks to the unhappiness of comparing your life to someone else's, which can quickly sow seeds of discontent, because we very often only see incomplete pictures of others, and it becomes easy to imagine that everyone else is living much simpler, happier lives. It's an idea that ties back to Mack's posters on his wall, and the incomplete portrait of celebrities. Neatly, Mac's saying that he doesn't keep count ties a nice circle around this outro section. Remember that the first line was nine times out of ten, I get it wrong. While Mack

was fixated on tracking his failures, he has come to a place of acceptance. where he realizes that nobody's keeping score, thus the game only existed in his own head. Freed from that, he can stop playing and just live. Conclusions. On small worlds, MacMiller captures the simultaneous loneliness and mass connection of celebrity, of being in front of a crowd of thousands of people while being the only one on stage. Like most of swimming songs, the ironic and sincere are simultaneously present in the title. Small worlds describes the small realities each of us build for ourselves.

With our own understanding of the world and subjective perceptions of others, our individualized experience is its own small world that exists largely in our own head. And as we've seen throughout swimming, it's easy to get stuck in there, isolated and alone, shutting out the world outside. However, the phrase small world is also a common sincere expression, views when we're surprised at meeting someone unexpectedly or realizing there was some connection between people or groups. It's related to the idea of seven degrees of separation, that despite the fact there are over

seven billion people all occupying what can feel like a gigantic world, we're all more connected than we think. It's yet another example of how Max so accurately captured the simultaneity of experience, emphasizing the importance of relativity and our individual perception of the world. It actually reminds me of a mental exercise I'll do from time to time if I'm ever feeling overwhelmed by a specific problem or source of anxiety. You lie in the back in the dark on your bed with your eyes closed, and in your head you try to visualize yourself there, lying in bed in your room. From this perspective, you're pretty big. You take up the majority of the bed, and you're a decent size relative to the room. But then you start slowly zooming out, like a bird's-eye

camera looking down that's rising higher and higher. You imagine now your house or apartment, still picturing yourself lying there, but now a little smaller in proportion to everything around you. Next, you zoom out a little farther, visualizing your entire street. then your entire town or city, then your state, then the country. Finally, you visualize the entire world from space, then the earth in proportion to the solar system, and then the solar system in proportion to the universe. At some point in this process, it becomes impossible to picture yourself in these larger and larger perspectives. You're just too small. And for me, this exercise helps to reorient my perspective,

makes whatever issue I'm dealing with feel much more manageable, and can often expose how trivial the issue was in the grand scheme of things. Because there's a certain freedom that comes with humility, when we're able to recognize that the small world we exist inside day to day isn't really as big as it feels. And as Mack said, nobody's really keeping score anyway. Nobody's tracking your mistakes and failures. And if you truly live in the present, each moment is a new beginning, a chance to do better. For Mac, this notion seems centrally important to swimming. As just two days after the album's release, he tweeted, quote,

Stop keeping score. Just keep swimming. Ultimately, there are no winners and losers. After all, we all eventually lose. We all die. And so while we're alive, while we're all winning, let's try to unburden ourselves of counterproductive internalized pressure, do our best, and just keep going. Just keep swimming. This episode of Dysect was written by Camden Ostrander and me. If you enjoyed today's episode, please tell a friend about the show

or share on social media and tag Dysect podcast. really helps. If you haven't already, check out my other show on Spotify called Keynotes. For each episode, I analyze songs of all genres tied together by a musical theme. That's Keynotes only on Spotify. Theme music for Dissect was composed by bureaucratic, song recreations by Andrew Atwood, audio editing by Eric Bass and me. All right, thanks everyone. Talk to you next week.