As with similarly repetitive Choo Choo, a funky mid-album interlude, these songs grew on me with repeated listens. A cloppity beat matches a Three Amigos-style campfire guitar as DeMarco sings “Here comes the cowboy” every few measures, ten times in fact, to the point where I wondered, 'Is this a promise, or a threat?' The song repeats those same measures for three minutes before fading out, at which point I thought, 'Well, that's a song everyone's gonna skip after one spin.' The titular first song signals that we're in no rush to get anywhere particular. Instead, DeMarco plays an honest hand here, showing us his cards and letting us glimpse at perhaps the truest iteration of his persona.Īnd DeMarco's true self is reflective, melancholy, nostalgic and, as ever, mischievous. Besides a little help from keyboardist Alec Meen and production tinkering by DeMarco's touring sound engineer Joe Santarpia, DeMarco wrote, sang, and played every instrument, and does so while, for the most part, eschewing his old tricks of hiding behind corrupted tape recordings or manic pitch-shifting. In fact, this might be DeMarco's most refined record yet.Īs with DeMarco's previous outings, Here Comes The Cowboy is a personal work. But there's a distinction to be made here while DeMarco caresses my mind into REM patterns, his craftspersonship is by no means sleepy. Maybe some friends are with me, I'm not sure. Mac Demarco's latest, Here Comes The Cowboy, induces daydreams like I'm inner-tubing down a lazy river while sipping Shlitz. Mac DeMarco Here Comes the Cowboy (Mac's Record Label)

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