Avicii in the boat to Ultra Music Festival. Credits : Netflix
A Genius Rooted in Melody
From the very beginning, Tim Bergling’s music was defined by melody. It was the core of his creative genius, as vividly demonstrated in the Netflix documentary Avicii: I’m Tim.
Whether crafting timeless anthems like Levels or Wake Me Up, or playing piano and singing just days before his passing, Tim’s ability to create melodies that resonated universally is celebrated throughout the film. Iconic figures like Nile Rodgers and Chris Martin affirm this unparalleled gift, highlighting how his music always sought to transcend time and trends.
Yet, the documentary also exposes the devastating cost of his success. Achieving global fame at 19—a time when most are still exploring their identities—stole Tim’s chance to discover himself and experience life as a normal teenager.
The Struggle for Identity
The title I’m Tim reflects the film’s central theme: identity. The documentary poignantly traces Tim’s life from a misunderstood child to a global superstar, burdened by the expectations of the world around him. This struggle with self-definition becomes the thread that connects every chapter of his life, from his meteoric rise to his untimely end.
Tim’s quest for identity manifested in profound anxiety. As he admits in the film, “I was so much happier before I became famous. This life wasn’t for me.” His words, delivered with haunting clarity, reveal the internal conflict of a young man unable to reconcile the person he was with the persona the world expected him to be. His unease led him to seek solace in alcohol and later in painkillers, but as the film makes clear, these were symptoms of a deeper issue: a fundamental misalignment between his external success and internal happiness.
I was running after some like an ideal of happiness that wasn’t my own. I didn’t like being a persona, I didn’t like having a persona, I didn’t like having to be Avicii and then having to be Tim.
Avicii in the studio. Credits : Netflix
The Loneliness of Fame
One of the documentary’s most striking moments is a conversation between Tim and a friend, who couldn’t understand why someone with such immense success could feel unhappy. Similarly, the scene of Tim' late days reading US media’s portrayal him as a retired millionaire living the dream only compounded his sense of isolation.
These moments underscore the profound loneliness Tim felt, trapped between the projections of others and his own unmet need for self-discovery. As Tim himself reflects, “I was running after some ideal of happiness that wasn’t my own. I didn’t like being a persona; I didn’t like having to be Avicii and then having to be Tim.” This dichotomy—the public Avicii versus the private Tim—left him alienated, misunderstood & yearning for authenticity.
The Toxicity of the Industry
The documentary also sheds light on the dark side of the music industry. Tim was pressured into relentless touring & forced to meet the demands of an industry that often prioritized profit over his well-being. Even when he sought to adjust his lifestyle—changing his diet, exercising, and cutting back on gigs—it became evident that these fixes didn’t address the root of his unhappiness.
Tim’s struggles highlight the broader issues of a culture obsessed with metrics, views, and social media validation. As he lamented :
Artists are people, we’re all creators. People who create shit, and then they’re throw into an environment & an industry where it’s about chasing how many views you have, how many comments. It’s become almost impossible to stay away from.
Tim Bergling. Credits : Avicii instagram
A Tragic Quest for Identity & Meaning
In one of the most moving sequences, Hans Zimmer’s God Yu Tekem Laef Blong Mi plays as Tim reflects on his life. The song’s title, meaning “God, you have taken my life” in Pidgin English, a language spoken in Papua New Guinea & in the Solomon Islands, resonates deeply with Tim’s words:
Fuck, I just want to be free from all the ideas of a life. (…) I just want to be satisfied.
This moment reveals Tim’s desperate desire to regain control of his life and find meaning on his own terms—by traveling, exploring new experiences, and returning to the simple joy of creating music without external pressures.
The Final Question
Despite glimpses of hope as Tim sought to redefine his happiness, the documentary ends on a devastating note. His tragic decision to end his life leaves us with the haunting question: why? Yet, as the film so poignantly demonstrates, the reasons may no longer matter. Tim himself told the world, in no uncertain terms, that he didn’t have the life he wanted.
Vincent Pontare’s words resonate: “Tim was just a beautiful person who wanted to be loved for who he was.” But being yourself often means facing the world unshielded, and for Tim, the weight of constant expectations—no matter how well-intentioned—proved unbearable.
A Call for Reflection
Ultimately, Avicii: I’m Tim forces us to confront difficult questions about identity, happiness, and the cost of fame.
How could Tim find happiness when he never had the time or space to build his own identity?
How could he define himself when his entire life was shaped by the expectations or assumptions of others?
Tim’s story is a poignant reminder of the need for empathy, understanding, and the courage to ask those around us a simple question: “What do you truly want?” For Tim, it seems, the world should have asked him before—and that is perhaps the greatest tragedy of all.
