On the surface, Miller looked like just another Slim Shady white boy wannabe rapper, but his music transcended frat party tunes.
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The single commonality between the hundreds of fans of all different backgrounds was their undying devotion for Mac Miller, the white Jewish kid from Pittsburgh who went from selling music out of his car in high school to becoming one of the most iconic rappers of his time, taken from this world much too soon. It was a melting pot of young people huddling together to stay warm while a boombox blasted “Blue World,” one of the tracks (my favorite) from the new record. Instead, I walked the entirety of it, observing Miller’s fanbase. I went to the immersive music experience, but I didn’t wait on the line. And it’s the reason why the cult hero’s NYC fanbase waited over four hours in the snow wrapped around slippery blocks to see “Circles: Til Infinity,” a pop-up multimedia exhibit for his posthumous album, Circles, released this month. Whether it was rhyming about self-medicating his depression or spitting his early day “frat rap,” fervent authenticity is Miller’s lasting legacy. That was kind of his whole shtick - representing who he was.
“I choose to get tattoos because I love having art on my body to represent who I am,” he said.
The Jewish rapper, who would’ve been 28 this month, said he got some heat from the Jewish community for covering his body with ink, but the self-described “bad little Jew” didn’t care. It’s been over a year since Miller - born Malcolm James McCormick - died from an accidental opioid overdose.