Look, for all I know, Mac DeMarco might be the nicest, humblest, most going-to-churchy fella you’ve ever met in your life, but let me tell you something, on the evidence of THAT voice, a bottomless pit of crooner cool and infinite sneer, you just want to slap the snake-hipped sonofabitch for being smarter, more suave, and more successful than you could ever dream of being. Coming off like the unholy union of David Bowie and, dunno, maybe a rockabilly Scott Walter, THAT voice cuts through the simmering, cigarettes-and-whiskey haze of numbers like “Rock And Roll Nightclub” and “Baby’s Wearing Blue Jeans” like a switchblade, like a transmission from some sleazy, noir limbo. Mac DeMarco, the very same, will be conjuring some of that magic September 28th in St. Augustine at the Present Moment Cafe. Pay the 6 bucks, go to the show, buy him a drink, slap him for getting fresh with you, dance to the music. Whatever.
