By Kevin Shea
Editor
The red curtains part revealing two-dimensional butterflies projected on a small, paper castle. A gaudy, golden chandelier hovers above dancing kids in animal costumes performing an abridged version of Romeo and Juliet. Thus begins Mac Miller’s music video, “100 Grandkids”.
On first viewing, “100 Grandkids” is like any other rap song: bragging of stacks of cash, the exploitation of loose women, and the boasting of one’s rap prowess. But look closer and you can hear the melancholy undertone to this otherwise upbeat hit.
We’ve all encountered a friend who profusely professes that they’re having a great day. After the eighth, “today really has been awesome,” we assume that, in fact, their day sucked and they should really talk to someone about it. It’s the same feeling we get from Miller’s song.
“100 Grandkids” is the battle between two of Miller’s personalities. The first being his public persona who basks in the riches derived from his musical fame. The second is his offstage, private character, where the success is no longer relished. This personality is expressed in the second half of his song.
Miller’s song starts with a peculiar hook. He discusses a promise he once made to his mother to gift her grandchildren, but explains that he instead chose money and fame.
I made a promise to my mama
That I’ll bless her with some grandkids, she can spoil them
Until then, I’m getting dollars, I’m just doing what I gotta
Can a man live? And it’s all day (homie)
This song is not just a comparison private and public, but also past and present. The thirteen kids on-stage not only represent the children he never had, but also his lost youth. Miller is shown several times in the play with them portrayed as the moon, and also in the middle of the group of kids somewhere offstage. In both situations he towers over them like a parent or guardian.
But they share a similarity: he’s a character as well. The only difference being his lack of a mask because his face is his mask — his public persona. Miller’s fame has made him a character to be watched and examined..
The childhood theme holds up throughout much of the song as it looks back on Miller before and after his popularity. In the bridge, Mac explicitly reminisces:
Back then I had a dream
I’ll get this money, man
I know, my life would change
Just need a hundred grand
In the second half of the music video, when Miller becomes more personal with the audience, expressed by the camera and scenery shift.
The camera bobs and weaves as it follows him, giving the viewer the impression of actually being behind him. The new scenery parallels how Miller now discusses his music and career. Miller no longer says he’s the best in his hook. Instead he says:
Yeah, back when I first made a hundred grand, thought I was the shit
When I first made a hundred grand, thought I was a king
When I first made a hundred grand, couldn’t tell me nuttin
When I first made a hundred grand, made a hundred grand
(Let me get some money)
Miller is not in a club with scantily-clad women, surrounded by his family and friends, or doing drugs. He’s alone, in an elementary school parking lot at night with a gyrating yellow car behind him. It feels odd and out of place, and despite the enticing drum beat and clever, fast-pace lyrics that his fans praise him, it’s not a joyful shot.
The last lyric is the most unsatisfying part of this song, and defines his view on how his life is turning out.
When I first made a hundred grand, made a hundred grand
In the clip he grimaces when saying those last four words.
Before he told the audience how unstoppable he felt with his money and fame — “like a king.” But after time, Miller has realized that all earning money does is add digits to your bank account.