The Retrographer, Issue 101 (April, 2 0 2 3)

Mac DeMarco, William tyler & The Impossible Truth, Thundercat, Tame Impala, Beach House, Gregory Uhlmann, Indigo De Souza, Rae Sremmurd, The Time Carman Trio, Wednesday, Julie Byrne, and more!

The Retrographer, Issue 101 (April, 2 0 2 3)

Bulletins

One of the big musical experiences from my last month was making it all the way through Mac DeMarco’s surprise 199-track album One Wayne G, nine hours of mostly-instrumental songs stretching from the middle of 2018 to the beginning of 2023. I think Mac is a great songwriter of rather bygone vintage. He’s often characterized by the aesthetic he cultivated on his first few albums, including reverbed-and-chorused guitar, Viceroy cigarettes, puckishness. This has obscured his songbook of tenderhearted and often pained compositions touching on his loving long-term relationship with his girlfriend, his estrangement from his father and his fear of turning into him, the chaos of his household growing up, and cost of maintaining the character the public fell in love with. This demo compilation is inessential for any but Mac’s biggest fans: It has no single great song, and if it did, it would have made its way onto one of his albums. Unlike the other, more focused instrumental releases of his past, these feel largely like ideas he could never find a fitting melody for, or which didn’t jive with the album he was making at the time, or were simply “garbage, but fun to make”.Yet he released them anyway, maybe as a demonstration of how hard and seriously he works, maybe to unburden himself of the need to come back to them. The tracks are all dated in tribute to the late Ryuichi Sakamoto of Yellow Magic Orchestra, Mac’s hero. They provide a runic travelog through the last half decade of his work that we can map onto our own lives as well as those we know he experienced: lockdown, the 2020 election, his father’s death. He leaves no commentary and virtually no lyrics to interpret beyond speculation; It’s simply a document of Mac’s process and commitment to not only searching for new ideas but seeing his work through to the high level of execution he achieved here.

I don’t know how long it’ll take, but I think one day Mac will be more known for the quality of his writing than for his beloved persona. In some ways, One Wayne G is highly relatable to songwriters whose voice memos are brimming with an untold number of unfinished songs. In other ways, the quality and prolificness of this compilation – a subset of who knows how many more abandoned ideas – only further separates Mac as a craftsman.

Ten Songs for April, 2 0 2 3 | Listen to these songs on Spotify and YouTube

“20200324”, Mac DeMarco (Spotify / YouTube) – For my money, the best passage of One Wayne G is right when lockdown starts at the ides of March, 2020. There’s the gorgeous stillness of “20200316” and then, a week later, this jubilee, a sudden realization of freedom from the old life. 

“Out Lady of the Desert”, William Tyler & The Impossible Truth (Spotify / YouTube) – Not to gatekeep but, despite the aesthetic markers, this is not psych. This music never gets lost or gives itself to the fog. But it is spacious and stellar, full of streaking contrails of pedal steel, humming high bass, and highway drums.

“So Alive”, Gregory Uhlmann (Spotify / YouTube) – A beautiful recording piece-by-piece and as a whole. Try focusing on any element: Uhlmann’s flowing singing, the tied whole notes painting the horns across the sky, the subtle thump of the bass, strings that appear and bend along the outskirts, a little xylophone tittering in the background.

“Turkey Vultures”, Wednesday (Spotify / YouTube) – There’s always a certain disquiet looming with this band. No placid moment can ever really stand itself long enough for Karly Hartzman’s yodeling vocals to maintain it before the fissures start to show.

“You Can Be Mean”, Indigo De Souza (Spotify / YouTube) – More Asheville. De Souza finds her sense of self-worth after a shitty romantic encounter by recognizing how much better she deserves it. She doesn’t have the answer, but loves herself enough to know she can’t stay here. 

“American Daughter”, Beach House (Spotify / YouTube) – When all is said and done, it’ll be impossible to make Beach House’s greatest hits. There are too many songs of this scale and quality and which sound like they were all written in the same fever dream of pop.

“No More Lies”, Thundercat and Tame Impala (Spotify / YouTube) – A particular corner of dudes on the internet have likely been dreaming of this collaboration for a decade. Not holding that against it, Bruner & Parker have startling compatible palettes, the late-70s marriage of fusion and disco.

“Mississippi Slide”, Rae Sremmurd (Spotify / YouTube) – It seems hard to imagine how a new album from Jxmmi and Swae could go unnoticed, but that seems to have happened here. Don’t let that fool you though: This album is every bit as delightful as Sremmurd albums of comparable length, stylish ear candy masterfully executed.

“Summer Glass”, Julie Byrne (Spotify / YouTube) – Last we heard from Byrne over half a decade ago, she peered over the windswept cliffs of heartbreak with an acoustic guitar and chilly synths. Now she finds a chosen family and something that feels like home.

“Chicken Noodle Man”, Tim Carman Trio (Spotify / YouTube) – Very simply, this is Tim’s nickname for his dog. Let that note close this playlist: Just imagine a cute dog with this soundtrack. Have a nice day.

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