Mac Demarco @ The Zoo
For months my morning time anthem has been “Ode to Viceroy”, and yes, it is entirely possible that my love of this song is coupled with my habitual inability to maintain a high decorum during a night out and the inevitable hangover that is bound to follow. Unless I’ve had the foresight to top up my Berocca supply, in which case, I’m gravy. But alas, this isn’t always the case. It is at this point, lying there, face down, sprawled out in the starfish position with a Hungry Jacks wrapper glued to my leg by means of the ageing mayonnaise I had forgotten to previously lick clean, where I must come to the realization of what I have become. It is in this moment when the morning sun gleams through my tattered blinds to meet the interior of my eyelid rending me from stupored sleep that I need some solace. I need to know everything is ok, that this fugue state I’m in is nothing more than the result of being young, being a student and being on holidays… Who am I kidding?… This happens during the semester as well, and I’m not even sure what qualifies as young anymore, I have never been called “Sir” but I can sense this title around the corner. Never the less, I remove the glued wrapper, fumble for my IPad and make use of one of my bloodshot eyes as I clumsily navigate the home screen with my open palm, clicking every app from Reddit to Kaching eventually finding my way to my Hangover playlist in Spotify, and you know what it’s titled? Mac Demarco!
As I strode the streets to The Zoo, which is one of my favorite venues for live music by the way, I thought it ironic that in due time, the very songs I will be listening to in the morning to recover will be rocking me with their grungy slack rocker audio tendrils into a maelstrom of booze, sweat and sufficient heat to leave me comatose in a salty sweat stained mattress by the next morning with my only refuge of solace being the same heavy baritone-bound melodies yet again. And I was prepared!
I was steeped in anticipation as I listened to the openers. It seemed as though all the bands drew inspiration from each-other, each set produced a masterful amount of energy from the gathering crowds. With acts such including ScotDrakula playing some authentic, soulful, stoneresque tunes including Break Me Up, an awesome song which I deem is best described as a darker, heavier Tame Impala. These acts were electric; the level of excitement in the room was palpable, rendering some of the openers a further return to stage if only for the odd stage dive and obligatory crowd surf. They had all set the scene well for the Big Mac and now it was time.
As Mac Daddy and his compadres’ stepped on stage the crowed emulsified all there chanting and cheering into a grand howl which bellowed across the entirety of the venue with enough force to shudder any load bearing structures. As the people watched on, masses began rushing center stage, forcing their way through everyone else who were now unwitting participants in the almost formed pit. In an instant Mac counted in the band and they were jammin’. Playing all the hits Including Ode To Viceroy, Freaking Out The Neighborhood, Cooking Up Something Good as well as quite a handful of covers including Rollercoaster which I speculate was possibly inspiration for the riff in Cooking Up Something Good. It checks out, so check it out. The set played on for a rock-solid amount of time and climactically finished with Mac Demarco belting out his hit Forever mounted atop the sound-desk center-stage after crowd surfing his way over his ecstatic fans.
As for me I took my sweat drenched clothing into the cab, ordered the driver to Hungry Jacks, apologized accordingly for the puddle of sweat I left in the seat, returning to my room to feast and rest, awaking only to find myself in the state I previously described above. It’s a vicious cycle, but it was worth it that night if only to aurally feast on the songs of the scintillating suburban slack rocker that is Mac Demarco.