Have we reached critical Mac?

Music | August 5th, 2015

No matter how many creative ways musicians have released their work into the wild listening world – surprise releases, pay-what-you-want downloads, hidden records in upholstered furniture, etc. – it still comes almost infallibly in one of three denominations:

The Single: The “big hit,” often released with a less crucial B-side.
The Extended Play (EP): A collection of three to six tracks, often reserved for unreleased songs, demos or other non-essential audio oddities, and historically released on 7” vinyl.
The Long Play (LP): Typically viewed as the most concrete “artistic statement” of the three categories, these releases took full advantage of the 40-50 minutes allowed by 12” records.

The intangibility of digitized music has irreparably distorted the boundaries between these categories, which really isn’t as bad as it sounds. B-sides are no longer physically necessary. Three-hour free jazz epics are no longer fiscally irresponsible – nor environmentally, for that matter – for a label to distribute, for example.

I bring up this semi-archaic categorization system because I simply can’t come to terms with the “mini-album.” And yes, I am using air quotes when I say “mini-album.”

Mac DeMarco, the indie world’s most charming crooner, has claimed more lost hours of my slumber than I am willing to admit by classifying his latest release, “Another One,” as such. Lost somewhere in the 5” chasm between the LP and the EP, the mini-album is a sign of indecision; a refusal to either self-edit or fully commit to the worthiness of a record flip.

In short, LPs are the milestones of an artist’s musical advancement. EPs are the bathroom breaks in-between.

So how seriously are we to take “Another One?” Is it his Next Great Thing or a knowingly disposable set to tide the masses over ‘til, well, another one? How seriously should we be taking Macky anyway? I mean, this is the guy that’s only half-joking in describing his music as “jizz-jazz.”

Clearly, I don’t know the answer to these questions. But I do know that “Another One” is a fine record, regardless of its length or number of tracks. Mac does what Mac does best, which is write stupidly simple songs with universally relatable lyrics, noodle around with some sea-legged guitar lines and move on. Considering the fanbase he’s garnered since he caught the record-buying public’s ears and hearts with his album “2,” it’s a model that’s served him well. Despite his unshakeable likability – aren’t we all suckers for that gap-toothed grin? – “Another One” is the first crack in his golden egg formula.

While the mini-album does demonstrate Macky’s increasingly dexterous guitar work and keyboard prowess, the man-boy’s bread and butter has always been schlocky love (or lack thereof) songs. Where they were cutesy and doe-eyed on his records previous, their ubiquity on “Another One” is nauseating, evident immediately in the tracks’ names (“No Other Heart,” “A Heart Like Hers,” “I’ve Been Waiting for Her”). Instead of coming off as the thoughts and feelings of a conflicted and vulnerable loverboy, these songs drip like sap from middle school valentines.

Now, in reviewing music, as in any art, there’s an eternally tormenting balance of wanting an artist to be both what they’ve always been and all that you want them to be. Don’t get me wrong, I love Macky just as much as the next person, but “Another One” feels phoned in. If he’s leaning more towards “mini,” let’s remember its handful of catchy songs and move on. If this is an “album,” we may be reaching critical Mac.

So someone please just tell me. I need some shuteye.

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