![]() ![]() DeMarco is approachable and never too serious, which means that there’s sort of two Mac DeMarcos: the everyman who is down to drink some tallboys, and the popular artist who makes naive music that sounds unsullied by the unfortunate intrusiveness of the real world. Neuman smile, whether he’s singing about his relationship with his dad, or writing weirdly moving odes to cigarettes. ![]() He will always be the goofy guy with the Alfred E. He’s now famous enough that a cult of personality has developed around him. Here Comes the Cowboy arrives at a time when there are more eyes trained on DeMarco than ever before. The crustiness of his early songs is mostly gone here. His music evolves in inches: he iterates on the same sound but tweaks it subtly with every release. Here Comes the Cowboy is an often pretty, occasionally frustrating record that was recorded quickly, but still sounds labored over. DeMarco says he named the album Here Comes the Cowboy because he liked using the word “cowboy” as a nickname or term of endearment, which, like many things in the Mac DeMarco universe, is half inside joke, half inadvertent trendsetting. His new album follows closely in spirit to the endearing and open-hearted of This Old Dog. Since then, DeMarco has moved to Los Angeles, and released a spare and unexpectedly deep album called This Old Dog, which helped solidify his spot as indie’s goofball leading man.
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