Cleaning is a satisfying experience. Not a plate, but a mind. To dump all its contents, be it a shelf full of books or, in Mac DeMarco’s case, nearly two hundred bits of material, is catharsis in motion. One Wayne G was a delightful experience. Releasing so much material at once is an act which many would see as insisting on ignorance of a listener’s time. But DeMarco has honest intent with that album, as he does with the much shorter Guitar. It’s another striking selection of quality works from the Freaking Out the Neighbourhood sensation. Consistent across these releases is an unflinching honesty with listeners. DeMarco writes and performs in the moment. No time before or after matters, and it means his discography is like a public journal. Guitar extends that. Once the decluttering has ceased, it is time to fill up the room once more. Twelve fantastic songs are what DeMarco has for his listeners this time.
Suggestive heartbreak on opening song Shining is a telling moment. It’s the heartbreak filtered through sincere hopes of a bright future. Whether that positive step is for DeMarco or a former flame is not knowable. He blurs the line that well. Sincerity reigns supreme, the sun shining down on a partner whose time in DeMarco’s life has passed. Brutally open, such is the case for a performer using his discography as a diary. It’s one of many intense, personal moments to be heard on Guitar. Lost love inevitably leads to a promised reform. Sweeter gives listeners a glimpse of that. The heartbreak cannot be mended with soft words and stylish guitar tones, but DeMarco will still try. It’s an album made because of and despite loss. Guitar is a broken heart playing the same tune in that way Alain de Botton wrote about in Essays in Love. Nostalgia is a sign of disinterest, the first step on a long road to disaster. Nightmare notes it, the rest of Guitar confirms it.
Openness is not a given in art, but to hear DeMarco be so truthful and candid about life in recent years is an incredible experience. Not just because of the sincerity heard throughout but because of what this openness does for his vocal style. High-pitched efforts note there is “no coming back” and nowhere to go but forwards, it’s all incredibly soft-spoken and sound advice for dealing with the darker times. Instrumentally stripped back is the inevitable route for Guitar, a suitable pairing of one man and his guitar. Nothing more is needed. Gut-wrenching songs like Home are destined to become some of DeMarco’s greatest songs. There is no doubt about it. Earnestness meets emotional maturity, facing off against an agonising part of life. It’s not a moment which will pass. These feelings linger in the back of the mind, irrespective of the changes made, and the comfort of the future.
DeMarco offers an honest and brutal read on love’s many hang-ups not for sympathy, but to show how volatile it can be. Nothing at All has some catchy, drifting guitar and drum work while he sings of losing his way after such emotional turmoil. Honesty is all we can ask from artists who are putting their heart on the line. What remains enlightening is through the rough times, DeMarco sees that light at the end of the tunnel, that respite from rough years. You can hear it on Holy, and he rounds off Guitar with a hopefulness most would be without, thanks to Rooster. Those subtle notes of hope, the easy-going performance, it continues on from the theme found on One Wayne G. Not what the music brings, but what the intention of the release was, a clear-out. DeMarco wishes for a fresh start and gets it, or at least close, with Guitar.
