Kids tunes for big boys and girls, but by God, can they hit home when they’re on the money. Album closer ‘Watching him Fade Away’ is telling: “Even though we barely know each other, it still hurts watching him fade away.” The track is exemplary of Mac’s ability to endear with the simplest of arrangements and words it’s painful to listen to in its honesty and weakness.
Mac senior is an addict who is gravely ill, and Mac junior illuminates the crossroads he’s been at with complex feelings lurking around: “The thought of him no longer being around, well sure it would be sad but not really different.” In an interview, Mac chewed him out as “kind of a piece of shit”, but seems reluctant to totally condemn him in song. The heavy musings on his father sandwich either side of the album, and Mac questions himself in the mirror about turning into dad the older he gets, “Oh no, looks like I’m seeing more of my old man in me.” Years trotting off around la-la land like his estranged dad have left a bill for the blissful ignorance of it all: “Look how old and cold and tired and lonely he’s become, not until you see, there’s a price tag hanging off of having all that fun.” The words and overtones don’t beat around any bushes with some melancholic realities that have caught up with him. If there’s one word that grasps the essence of LP number three, it’s sobering. For the casual fan, this album might be a turn-off given the lack of humour, but for anyone curious to see a new frontier, it’s bound to appeal. Side one lacks character compared with the latter, and the weariness of the ambience can lead the whole product to seem a little indistinct at times.
‘This Old Dog’ is a wholly inoffensive listen it’s got placid lake dad rock with all the jangly guitars and talk-sing ramblings that breeze by the ear. But the song-writing isn’t the problem here – it never has been with Mac – it’s the lack of scope.
You can hear how much Mac enjoys the craft and process of putting each house-of-cards together, especially with a philosophy of minimalism where there’s no sonic wilderness to hide in. The rhythms are tight and the melodies, vocal and otherwise, always seem to know just where the right note is and when to appear. Ponderous synths and old-school drum machines are the tools marking a refined sound with an evidently seasoned songwriter behind them. Gone are the watery splish-splash of chorus-soaked guitars and esoteric laughs of previous records in favour of steady, clean, and wistful tunes with introspective words. Fans know and love the antics-prone agent of trippy soft rock, but the boy wonder is hungover and left meandering over multiple issues in his personal life on ‘This Old Dog’. Whacky Macky has distilled l’eau Demarco down to quite a marketable product at this point.
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