His fifth official album is an ambling 13-song journey towards self-acceptance, one that does not end in triumph. Instead, it embraces the possibility that he’ll never have it all figured out.

The rapper's brutally honest fifth album is a stellar – if somewhat overlong – artistic statement.

Swimming merges enlightening, candid rhymes over funky beats, providing a transparent look at how Mac Miller hit a personal rock bottom and his vigorous climb to save himself.

Like an actual wave, Swimming’s moods crash and fall, then rise again, all while we frantically hold on to prevent being cast out to sea. Amid the maelstrom, Mac acts as the voice of the seas, somberly spewing line after line of pleas and resolutions to against solemn, jazzy funk.

Though the subject matter is enticing, Swimming does occasionally tread boring lulls. At its best, however, Miller’s latest project succeeds at being cathartic and is more lyrically mature than his previous work.

On his wounded fifth album, Mac Miller sings deftly about heartbreak and his mental state, capturing his resignation without turning sadness into a performative spectacle.

He’s been a fratty master of ceremonies, a depressive Serious Artist, a half-convincing loverman. Swimming features the full suite of personas coagulated into a single voice.

Swimming is ample evidence that Miller can pick up the pieces and continue evolving, his grasp on thoughtful, introspective hip-hop getting stronger by the album.

If Swimming doesn’t quite achieve greatness, it connects. You can hear his pain and perseverance, even if he struggles to put it into words.

Swimming captures Miller at a creative apex where he's acutely aware of where he's been and where he can go.

The road to recovery is an arduous one, and Swimming is instilled with the hope that one day each of us—Miller included—can find peace of mind.