Mac Demarco Makes It Look Effortless with "Salad Days"

What is it about Mac Demarco that makes him seem more like a cartoon character than an actual person? Is it that gap between his two front teeth, the one that makes him look like indie rock's version of Danny Brown, or perhaps even Mad Magazine's Alfred E. Neuman? Or could it be those bizarre music videos, like the one where he gets Nickelodeon-looking slime poured on him while wearing a powdered wig? Yes, Demarco has been widely publicized as a lovable goon, but nowadays many artists that are even more widely embraced than Demarco have their share of wacko tendencies too. What separates Mac Demarco from the rest of the bunch is his ability to carry over this whimsical aura into the music itself. With Salad Days, we get another delightfully wobbly trip into Demarco-ville, and additionally, these breezy tunes seem to carry an added level of importance to him. He accomplishes this while still maintaining the soothing, seemingly unrehearsed sound that his fans have come to expect. This comes across on tracks like "Blue Boy," where he sings, "Blue boy, older than the world knows/ Honey, that's the way that life goes/ No use acting so tough/ Come down, sweetheart, grow up." The same carefree attitude as always, but with a compelling argument to go along with it.

Although this album was most definitely a product of much hard-work and practice, the confidence that exudes from Mac Demarco makes it feel as though all of these songs were nailed in one sitting. He takes many risks on Salad Days, but they always feel organic. The warped guitars on "Goodbye Weekend" and "Treat Her Better" are like muscle relaxants. The thumping bass line and swirling organ on the jam session "Jonny's Odyssey" make for a fun, lighthearted cap to the album. However, not all of Salad Days is a lazy trip down the river. "And where would I be, feeling lonely/ Separated from my one and only/ And what's there left to say/ Far as I can tell that day could be on its way," he softly sings on "Let My Baby Stay," the ode to his foreign born girlfriend, whom Demarco desperately wants to remain living with in the United States. "Passing Out Pieces" deals with the star's loss of identity as his fame grows, and is accompanied by a brass arrangement that counterbalances his psychedelic musings (almost like "A Day in the Life" taken down a few notches). "Chamber of Reflection," which may be his most compelling song to date, combines a striking synth line with introspective lyricism. Demarco makes sensational songwriting and composition look effortless on Salad Days. At under 35 minutes, the tour through Demarco-ville is rather short, but luckily it's one that gets better with each trip. If this is simply not enough to satisfy your dream pop fix, Demarco takes the last six seconds of the album to leave us with this reassuring message: "Hi guys, this is Mac. Thank you for joining me. See you again soon, buh-bye." Can't wait.