Funnyman Mac DeMarco is a lot like a cartoon. From his jangly, psyche-pop music right down to the clothes he wears, everything about Mac DeMarco feels very unique to him. It’s an aesthetic built on reliance; to do the same thing’s you’re known to do and to act the same way you’re known to act. This kind of image can be both a good thing and a bad thing. For a musician, there’s always going to be a divide in your fan’s desires regarding the direction of your creative output, between those who want you to always stay the same and those who want your character to grow.

‘Salad Days’ is the highly anticipated second full-length release from Canadian-born multi-instrumentalist since his well-received debut ‘2’. Having previously ditched his “Makeout Videotape” recording moniker, DeMarco has no longer been hiding under an alias. Maybe this was a smart marketing ploy in the long run, as it’s often difficult to engage in a conversation about DeMarco’s music without avoiding mention of his goofy personality. Whether this persona is real or not is another debate, but DeMarco’s releases since this change in sound have brought with them a more focused collection of songs ever since.

‘Salad Days’ begins with its title track and sound of twinkling guitar and the gentle crooning that we’ve come to know and love. This whimsically lax sound doesn’t let up for one second on the entirety of this record and perhaps DeMarco’s notorious “slacker” approach turns on itself by the end. Unfortunately, while this record is a pleasant and easy-going listen, after long enough exposure to its constantly shimmering palette, you do find yourself detaching from its initial excitement and quickly losing interest.

That being said, there still are some great numbers on ‘Salad Days,’ and they’re always when Mac’s at his most honest. Like on the record’s first single, Passing Out Pieces, the clever hook “What mom don’t know has taken its toll on me” is witty and honest, while at the same time charming. The memorable Chamber of Reflection is another sparkling gem; its lethargic-yet-catchy melody is one that has you shamefully coming back again and again to hear Mac’s self-pitying cries for help.

Like a scheduled cartoon on TV, the appearance of an episode you’ve already seen before can be met with mixed reception depending on which one you’re seeing. They can either be met with childish delight or an internal sigh that’s hoping for something new. Mac’s music is often as colourful as an Adventure Time episode, and with most shows like this, they’re built on repetition. Knowing the characters, their personalities, how they interact with the world they’re placed in. The episode that’s playing right now may not be your favourite, but you’re still glad the TV show exists.