I was 15 years old the first time I saw Mac Miller perform at the iconic 18 and under venue, Club Zoo, in the Strip District of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. This was the kind of club where kids would chain smoke cigarettes, it smelled musty at all times, and you didn’t tell your parents you were going. You thought it was cool to go to the bar and get a Red Bull, and you couldn’t wait to dance to “Like a G6” with your friends. This night was special because unlike the usual trash music blaring from the DJ booth, there was going to be a performance. It was 2010.
I was with my older sister and her best friend. They already knew of Mac, but I had never heard his music. I hesitantly stood in the corner not knowing what to expect.
“Everybody please put your thumb in the air!” was the first thing this 18-year-old white kid said as the lights came up. I put my right thumb up with a straight face. It felt stupid, but as soon as the beat from “Knock Knock” dropped, I was hooked. That set the tone for the rest of my adolescence in the Steel City.
I remember bumping K.I.D.S and Blue Slide Park in the car nonstop when I got my license at 16. Pittsburgh isn’t necessarily the most exciting city, but riding around listening to Mac was an activity to look forward to on its own. We would listen during long bus rides before a tennis match, bullshitting during a free period, and getting ready for those terribly awkward high school dances. I remember when Blue Slide Park debuted at number one on Billboard. He wasn’t just Pittsburgh’s anymore, he was the world’s. It was amazing to see the world fall in love with him as much as we did.
I was 20 years old the second time I saw Mac Miller perform, this time in Washington D.C. at the Fillmore for his GO:OD AM Tour. Now in college, I felt like I had grown up with him. He and his music had matured, but the concert was just as exciting as my first experience—just add more fans, mosh pits, and a different city. I went with my closest friends from Pittsburgh, and we all rocked our Steelers jerseys and Terrible Towels with pride. I’d be lying if I said we didn’t feel like we had a stronger connection to him in a sea full of D.C. natives.
Scenes from Mac Miller’s vigil at Blue Slide Park | footage by InTheRough
It’s been one week since his passing. I’m 23 now, and I’ve been thinking about it constantly. For me, no other artists’ death has hit as hard as this one for many reasons. As a kid growing up in Pittsburgh, it was inspirational to see Mac Miller make it out of such a small, overlooked city and always remain true to himself and humble. With that unmistakable Pirates logo tatted on his hand, he repped the city wherever he went. Not only did he have a strong impact on the kids from his hometown, but he touched the hearts of so many worldwide with his music and soul. I never got to meet him, but we all felt like we knew him.
There’s this saying that no one loves Pittsburgh as much as Pittsburgh. When one of our own makes it, the whole city is proud. When one of our own passes, the city mourns together. It rained for 3 days straight and the Stillers tied with the Browns after Mac left. That’s how you know.
Steelers running back James Conner honors the late rapper Mac Miller on his cleats this Sunday against the Kansas City Chiefs | photo via Conner’s Instagram
Any time you listen to Mac Miller’s old music it’s a nostalgic experience. You think of great times with friends. You think of driving through Fifth Ave and dodging all of its potholes while blasting “Party on Fifth Ave.” You appreciate places like Blue Slide park even more. Life was simple back then. When you listen to his music now, you think of how much he had grown. You think about how hard life gets. You think about how we all go through the same things at some point, and he was never afraid to talk about them.
Through it all, we always saw him smiling. We always saw him being a goofball and putting on an amazing show. We saw how real and full of life he was despite whatever he was facing. He made us even more proud to rep black and yellow and to never forget where we came from. He made us feel 15 again. No matter what, Mac Miller will always be there to remind us that we’re just some motherf*ckin kids.
Lead photos right to left by G L Askew II and Christaan Felber
