Mac DeMarco

This Old Dog

On his third album, the antics of Mac DeMarco are muted in favor of his impeccable songwriting, which shines through more than ever with warmth and precision.

His music might be maturing, but scratch beneath the surface and Mac DeMarco is still the adorable young scamp we fell in love with.

It’s hard to see how This Old Dog will be received and remembered in DeMarco’s discography, as it lacks the early energy of 2 or the immediate accessibility of Salad Days. What it does offer, however, is the most self-reflective version of DeMarco to date.

With This Old Dog, his distinctly DeMarco brand of baroque-infused folk is still built for the pauses in life but it feels a little steadier, and a little more self-aware.

Changes in timbre aside, those expecting a progression or departure in sound from the last two Mac releases will find them subtle, if present at all. But frankly, as with its sensitive and charismatic creator, it’s hard not to like This Old Dog from the start.

The relentless optimism of Salad Days has shifted, and what we have on This Old Dog is a more complex exploration of life, with all its vicissitudes and changes. We all grow up, even this optimistic oddball.

For most of ‘This Old Dog’, Mac brings the mood all the way down to beanbag listening. It’s not his unplugged album, but it’s pretty close, where his pitchy electric guitar has become a warm acoustic one.

As a songwriter, he’s ahead of many of his peers, and This Old Dog is his best record yet.

Mac DeMarco matures as a songwriter on This Old Dog, his best album since 2.

On this very earnest effort, his easygoing nature may have gotten the better of him: He’s made a laid-back album that is probably best listening to lying down, halfway into a nap.

The tunes here are wistful and sobering, indicative of a man at odds with the boyish persona that has followed him to fame.

In shifting away from his lush psychedelia-tinged arrangements in favor of slowly strummed acoustic guitar and gentle, glistening synths, the singer goes smaller and more intimate with his sound, an approach which yields both poignant and melodramatic results.

DeMarco's weed-y lazy-day croon can be a little too tongue-in-cheek. He's best when he's more earnest, both lyrically and melodically, as on "My Old Man," a sweet shoulder shrug toward the harsh reality of turning into your dad.

Despite having moments that tip it toward being his most “challenging” album lyrically (if being challenging has anything to do with being serious), This Old Dog might be his least interesting instrumentally and musically.