And he is an uncommonly popular denizen of the internet. He is championed by a specific brand of bro. His albums sell well enough, given their overhead. Indie rock - a meaningless, iterative phrase that was once used on the internet to delineate “not major label” and then “artful and serious” and then “commodify me, please” - has been in a vague moment of silent crisis for years now. Influence is a messy thing for an artist working in what feels like an antiquated form. This Old Dog has drawn comparisons to the music of ’70s bards, like James Taylor (if you favor the fragile emotionalist), Harry Nilsson (if you favor the wry romantic), Randy Newman (if you favor the wry fatalist), and Neil Young (if you favor the fragile fatalist - or if you’re DeMarco, who explicitly cites Harvest as an influence). They sound like they’ve been recorded in a room decorated with fun-house mirrors. There’s something slightly off, something rounded and strange about these songs. Released Friday, it bears all the hallmarks of a Mac DeMarco album - a curious combination of plainspoken cliché (“Wishin’ for tomorrow today / She still says she’s true”) and subtly clever turns of phrase (“My heart still beats for you / even though you don’t feel it”), wrapped in notes that bend and quiver. Mac DeMarco’s new album, his third full-length, is called This Old Dog.
0 kommentar(er)
