Mac DeMarco swoons Bristol with serene and typically surreal spectacle

Charming The Prospect Building in his first Bristol gig for over seven years, Mac’s hitting his stride as a new kind of showman

“Look at all these meat sacks,” Mac DeMarco joked in a grizzly faux ‘fight night’ announcer’s voice, scanning the crowd at The Prospect Building in Bristol mid-set. Not the most complimentary manner in which to address his adoring fans who braved the bucketing torrential rain to be there. Especially after he confused Bristol with Brighton, a big no-no. Of course, it was all taken in good heart – this was typical of Mac’s oddball on stage outbursts. “Do you see this meat sack before you?”, he then requested. “I shake mine, if you shake yours.” Boy, did those meat sacks shake.

Besides, there was little chance of Bristolians not turning out in their droves to see Mac play in their city for the first time in over seven years. It’s feasible to believe that he might have never come back.

Often heralded as one of the greatest artists of his generation, Mac initially rocketed to ‘Pitchfork darling’ status after the release of undeniably awesome albums 2 and Salad Days. Coupled with his relatable slacker rock aesthetic and chaotic charm, his penchant for gags and booze-fuelled stunts – climbing the rafters, drumsticks being inserted in certain orifices – meant his earlier shows were nothing short of sheer mania.

But as the pace of his music decelerated throughout albums This Old Dog, Here Comes The Cowboy and more recently Guitar which takes up the lion’s share of the set tonight, Mac remained trapped in the unpredictable party boy persona of his own making. At times it was rough watching him pretty much self-destruct during shows. Later admitting that his “alcoholism stems from being scared of playing,” he thankfully quit the drink and the smokes, remaining sober to this day.

So, watching Mac waltz around on The Prospect Building’s stage, looking svelte and comfortable in his own skin, was a genuine pleasure.

It’s the inimitably lo-fi, lovelorn side of his songwriting that he’s arguably more known for nowadays – which a cursory glance at his streaming stats would suggest. ‘Heart To Heart’, ‘Still Beating’ and ‘My Kind Of Woman’ receive the most hearty of hollers and sing-a-longs from the 3,500 punters in attendance. Mac’s a laidback balladeer at his core, and saunters through the synthily starlit ‘For The First Time’ and John Lennon-esque ‘Another One’ as though he’s performing in a dimly lit jazz club. His refusal to play in ‘big venues’ enhances the intimacy of his output. Even The Prospect Building – a warehouse-y venue predominantly geared towards electronic artists and club nights with hi-spec audiovisual facilities – feels congenial.

Assembling a band of watertight players adds more sheen to Mac’s gentle, stripped-back compositions throughout the show. There’s no goofy skits with bandmates careening for the microphone as soon as a song comes to a close. Mac’s gone professional, relaying his unhurried songs with poise and control. His falsetto is clean and true. Once upon a time, when Mac was at odds with his soulbearing self, he’d never have leaned so earnestly into a falsetto without making a joke out of it.

Naturally, there were moments of communal hysteria when old hits like ‘Ode To Viceroy’ and ‘Freaking Out The Neighbourhood’ came round. Or whenever Mac slung a guitar over his shoulder, which was sporadic at best.

Ending on an encore of ‘Nobody’, it was evident that there’s no longer a desire, or need, for Mac DeMarco to play up to his slacker rock delinquent guise. Yes, his between-song banter might still be surrealist and teetering on the scatalogical. But on tonight’s evidence, Mac’s back, he’s serene, and he’s hitting his stride as a new kind of showman.

All images: Fran Vicaria from Kolab Studios

Mac DeMarco returns to the UK in 2026 for a residency at O2 Brixton Academy. Find your tickets here.