Silky sleaze and a sense of humour turn Mac DeMarco (FKA Makeout Videotape) from nu-blooz deity into a self-aware rhythmic slime-rocker. Woozy tremeloed guitars mix with padded percussion to give a warm, lush backing for Mac’s grumbled, sensitive, pitch-shifted nocturnal emissions, while warped radio spoofs and an obsession with blue jeans add to the strange new world that DeMarco creates throughout this mini-LP. It’s hard to separate DeMarco the man from DeMarco the artist, and there’s a certain charming disingenuousness to these songs (I don’t think that a fresh pack of ‘Roys is the only vice of this boy), but it somehow adds to the album’s layers: parsing genuine communication from made-up slang (which exists in levels that rival a Chandler novel), figuring out honest sentiments from in-jokes, discerning artistic creation from pure entertainment. It somehow all works together in a strange mix of talented song-writing and playing, humor, invented nostalgia and infectious everything. Grip before this grip is gone – DeMarco has been unleashed onto the world and these releases will disappear fast.