Onstage, Mac DeMarco is a goofball imp, good-natured if slightly asinine; on record, he’s a serene, sincere, soft-pop balladeer. Those divergent personae play off one another surprisingly well, bolstered by his refreshing lack of artifice and uncommon relatability—he’s such an affable, approachable fellow that, at the close of 2015’s excellent Another One EP, he literally gave out his address and invited us by for a cup of coffee. He’s relocated to L.A., though he was already so laid back that this third full-length doesn’t read as his “California album” (even if it is) so much as just, well, another one. Don’t come expecting any major reinvention: There are few new tricks up this old dog’s sleeve—more acoustic guitar; an uptick in woozy, chillwave-y synths; some pleasantly burbling drum machine trax—but the more significant development is one of subtle, writerly progression. As the jaunty playfulness of first-album hits like “Cooking Up Something Good” continues to recede, it’s supplanted with some of his most heartfelt creations: the title track’s earnest expression of affection and loyalty, post-breakup pep-talk “One Another,” the poignantly succinct “Sister,” the frank funerary ruminations of “Moonlight On The River.” Others show us, more than ever, a Mac who’s not merely “chill,” but truly equanimous and contemplative, tuning in to the smaller-scale emotional shifts—among friends, lovers and family members—that don’t always get much play in pop.
—K. Ross Hoffman
