Mac Demarco is the perfect incarnation of that creative list that, under the name of lo-fihe held the head of critics in search of the philosopher's stone of music post-post-rock. It is not surprising, therefore, that “guitar” follows in the footsteps of the lazy and indolent “Five Easy Hot Dogs”, with a slight perspective change (return to an essential songwriting style), which adds nothing to what sown by the American artist in his lucky career.
It is undeniable that no one like Mac Demarco has succeeded in the not easy task of raising the weapon of disenchantment and artism in the shape of art, the one that peeps forcefully in the splendid and dissonant ballad slightly bluesy “Rock'n'roll”, where John Lennon's influence echoes, also the American musician has the rare gift of giving depth both to a philosophical reflection and a trivial story of daily feelings: the melancholy “home” is nothing but pure poetry.
There are two issues that “guitar” still leaves unresolved: the first concerns the rumors about a possible temporary retreat from the scenes, denied by the publication of this new album, while the second is connected to the passion of Demarco for the Steely Dan, a bond that resists in the structure of the compositions but which is late to find a solution also in the arrangements. And this is perhaps the real dilemma of “guitar”: however appreciable and sometimes brilliant (the refined “Punishment” and the delicious Saudade of “Knockin”), the songs remain unresolved and suspended in the golden limbo of a style lo-fi Which seems to be close to the compositions of the musician, who also appears listless from a purely interpretative and vocal point of view.
Obviously the expressive minimalism of Mac Demarco (also underlined in the choice of titles, all formed by a single word) has nothing in common with that lineage of authors who take refuge behind few notes to mask creative crises; many songwriter they would in fact be proud to have one dark ballad As “Holy” in his repertoire, however, by dint of lingering in a frayed and only apparently listless aesthetic, the American artist runs the risk of remaining a slave to a desire for youth that oppresses its uncommon talent.
Of course, the signals that Demarco sends for some years now are contradictory if not exactly destabilizing (the almost 200 instrumental of “One Way G” and the faded “Five Easy Hot Dogs”), but as far as I do not feel like advising this album to those who are not already a devoted fan, an optimistic rest on a possible and unexpected turn towards new much more solid and innovative projects.
04/09/2025
Antonio Santini for SANREMO.FM
