Music to rock back and forth to. This Old Dog feels like a physical journey. Like a late afternoon drive in a tired old pick up, through strawberry fields. Mac DeMarco is taking you from one place to another.
So mellow it will melt you in your carpet (or bed, or seat. Wherever you’re listening from, I just happen to be listening from a carpet). Like a 28 year old Elton John, like he’s trying to tell us that he’s the only living boy in New York.
It feels like he’s aged 20 years since we last saw him. I bet it’s all those cigarettes. See how in ‘My Old Man’, even he’s surprised by how much older he feels, how much more like his father he’s become.
The genre of this album is Dad-core. That’s the general theme of this album: fathers. He sees himself resembling the father he never had, walking his own hand. He gives advice to himself in the sage doting way a dad would to his son.
However, if you miss wishy washy slack guitar Mac DeMarco listen to ‘Still Beating’. It is Hawaiian nostalgia, a middle school dance with slow rotating disco lights and shiny sequins. He’s comfortable in his long term relationship, he’s apologizing for the songs he sang that hurt her , reassuring her that he loves her just the same as he always has. This one vaguely resembles like Salad days Mac.
He’s honest. That’s something about Mac that no one can ever take a shit on. They say the best music carries the most pain, Mac DeMarco reflects like someone who’s used to the pain of digging under his skin on the regular; someone who frequently asks himself the question ‘how do I really feel?’
He’s always dispensing sage advice like in ‘Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing’ “with the bluesiest harmonica. Fuck going outside. You really don’t have to socialize with people you don’t want to.
In ‘Dreams from Yesterday’ Chase your dreams or you’ll regret it when you’re as old as him. 28 is the new 82.
(Rated: 3.2 / 5)