Mac DeMarco

Another One

Ultimately, Another One doesn’t feel like a fully realised vision, but DeMarco clearly didn’t set out to produce a feature-length sequel to Salad Days. The man seems to possess a profound creative impulse, and it seems he’s keen to share the results with his fans.

It's like a novella, or a made-for-TV movie—something to chew on while we wait for the next major project.

Perhaps it’s not a shock then that current clown prince of slackerdom, Mac DeMarco, has finally made his bluest release. Another One has the usual brushes of DeMarco’s work – his soft croon, wayward guitars and goofy choruses – but it’s all tinged with a palpable heartache.

Even on stopgap releases like this relatively repetitive mini-album, DeMarco’s lysergic balladry and hangdog puppy love have an unbeatable effortlessness.

What it lacks in ambition, it more than makes up for in songwriting ... What it lacks by way of revelation, it more than makes up for in satisfaction.

DeMarco’s continual output is as exciting as it is impressive. These eight tracks were written in less than three weeks between shows on a recent tour, and the continuity of surfer twang and synthesiser melodies are indicative of this.

Call it a low-stakes play, but Another One is a snapshot of an artist who's found his lane and continues to mine it for affecting, melodically spry material.

It’s more of his seemingly tossed-off guitar balladry, stretched-out and warbled like he recorded direct-to-rubber band instead of direct-to-tape, but this time there are fewer winks and stunts, just more of the DeMarco who wants to love you tender.

Another One is boldly vulnerable with little bitterness, an ultimate guide for how to incorporate dusting yourself off into your productivity instead of allowing it to derail you.

What Another One does provide - in abundance - is proof that DeMarco has the songwriting chops to back up his reputation as one of indie rock’s last true characters.

As great as these new songs are, they’re also incredibly repetitive: the same riff, the same mood, the same shimmery guitar and the same words.

Mac DeMarco, the self-proclaimed purveyor of “jizz jazz”, operates at a pace that belies his slacker reputation, with this eight-track mini-album following swiftly on last year’s Salad Days, and mere weeks after his instrumental “BBQ soundtrack” album Some Other Ones.

He continues to craft wry pop songs about the vicissitudes of love and his slackerish geniality pervades Another One, from its hype-diffusing title to the offer of a cup of coffee that he extends to listeners on the final track.

The changes in sound are minor compared to the similarities in the songwriting; the guitar chords and melodies, the songs themselves feel reassembled from his own pre-existing (admittedly quite recognizable) repertoire of licks and runs.

Unfortunately for DeMarco, all the ‘watery’ guitar-work in the world doesn’t disguise that these are wisps of songs that wear thin with their slack tales of his romantic endeavours