Mac Demarco - “Guitar” Review
Written by Blake Peck
Photo courtesy of Mac Demarco
Guitar is a sparse and hazy scrapbook of riffs and moods where Mac DeMarco turns imperfection into its own subtle kind of beauty.
Mac DeMarco’s Guitar is a stripped-back, wandering record that leans into his penchant for space, humor, and quiet melancholy. It feels both tossed-off and deeply considered, as a collage of riffs and moods that thrive on imperfection. Instead of chasing polish, the album embraces sparseness, creating a dream-like sequence that feels like it’s been played straight from his living room to yours.
"Shining" opens the record with a gentle riff that drifts in circles. It’s not about resolution but about resigned tone-setting, creating an atmosphere that is equal parts warmth and sincere. The simplicity is accessible, and pulls the listener into the album’s world of guitar-led sketches.
Carrying that ease forward, "Sweeter," gently leans on playful strums and half-sung refrains. There’s a lighthearted sweetness here that feels classic Mac, casual, self-effacing, and a little sad around the edges. It’s a reminder that even in his most relaxed mode, he knows how to sneak in optimism to self-doubt sentiment.
"Phantom" is an album highlight that shifts into something moodier, built on hollow acoustic atmosphere and dry closeness. The track feels suspended, almost unfinished, and that lack of resolution makes it all the more affecting. It’s one of those Mac songs that leaves more questions than answers.
Pushing deeper into shadowy terrain, "Nightmare" trades breeziness for something more rigid and jagged. The riffs feel loose but uneasy, like the soundtrack to a half-remembered dream. It’s darker than much of the album, a necessary jolt amid the calm, but it provides some of his sweet falsetto vocals.
"Terror" then doubles down on tension, though it never fully breaks out of its languid pace. The mood is eerie but playful, carried by strange chord changes and a slightly warped tone. It doesn’t feel like a warning as much as a wink, Mac reminding us not to take the dread too seriously.
Guitar album artwork, out now
Finding a grin again, the album then brings the listener "Rock and Roll.” Sloppy, jangly, and knowingly cliché, it feels like Mac riffing on the very idea of guitar heroics while simultaneously refusing to play them straight. It’s both parody and homage, loose but surprisingly charming.
A brief but a heartfelt sketch, “Home,” is just over two minutes long. It carries a kind of folky campfire tenderness, intimate and fleeting. The circling melody is soft, unforced, and the brevity makes it hit harder, a reminder that sometimes Mac is can still deliver his best qualities when he says very little.
“Nothing At All” is another highlight that plays out like a subdued, almost whispered admission, reflecting on the fragile push and pull that defines certain relationships. When DeMarco sings “It’s always been / All or nothing at all / With you, baby,” he captures the sense of love lived at extremes, with little space for balance or compromise. The arrangement mirrors that tension, anchored by a simple, circling guitar motif that seems to echo his voice rather than merely accompany it. The guitar and vocal lines move in tandem, like an internal dialogue caught between conviction and hesitation. DeMarco’s delivery is understated yet deeply felt, giving the track a great, contemplative quality that lingers long after it ends.
Keeping things minimal, "Punishment,” is more a fragment than a song, clocking in at two minutes. Its repetition and simplicity feel deliberate, like an experiment in restraint. There’s a mischievousness in how little it gives, daring you to lean in.
Following with a more rhythmic and inviting sway, "Knockin’”is deceptively simple. Yet its casual bounce makes it one of the record’s most replayable cuts. It feels like Mac stumbling into a groove and letting it roll until it wears itself out.
"Holy" offers a strange blend of sincerity and parody. There’s something reverent in its pacing and tone, but Mac undercuts it with his trademark slacker looseness. It’s both devotional and ironic, and that tension makes it stand out.
Closing the album, "Rooster,” is a lopsided, slightly absurd finale. It’s playful, rough around the edges, and leaves things unresolved, like the punchline to a joke only Mac knows. It’s not a grand ending, but a shrug, a perfectly fitting way to leave the listener hanging.
Guitar runs from any polish. Instead, it’s Mac DeMarco doing what he does best: weaving humor, fragility, and rawness into deceptively simple sketches. It may feel like a scrapbook of riffs and moods rather than a finished statement, but that also doubles as its charm. Guitar asks you to accept the imperfections, and its melancholy is oddly moving.
Occult Highlights: Phantom, Home, Nothing At All, Nightmare, Holy
(…but we recommend you spin the whole thing to inspire your next slacker rock opus )