Mac DeMarco, the Canadian singer-songwriter celebrated for his slacker rock anthems and lo-fi aesthetic, has captivated audiences worldwide. While his songwriting and laid-back persona are central to his appeal, another key element of his signature sound often piques the curiosity of guitar players: his distinctive, often battered guitar. Many fans assume it was his first instrument, but DeMarco sets the record straight, revealing a history of guitars before landing on the now-iconic, budget-friendly axe that defines much of his recorded output.
Initially, DeMarco’s guitar journey began with more conventional instruments. He recalls owning an “all-black Yamaha shredder”—a guitar geared towards heavy metal—along with a “cheap Stratocaster”. Following a year of guitar lessons, his mother gifted him a “really fancy Telecaster.” While initially excited about this higher-end instrument, DeMarco’s musical tastes and aspirations began to shift after experiencing Edmonton’s local music scene. He observed bands playing “real hunks of crap” guitars, yet achieving sounds that resonated with him. This realization sparked a desire for a less pristine, more characterful instrument.
This quest led him to Lillo’s, a unique music store in Edmonton described as “half like a pawn shop.” In this “weird, old, and disorganized” environment, DeMarco sought out something intentionally imperfect. After some persistence, the store staff unearthed a guitar that fit the bill perfectly – a “piece of shit,” in DeMarco’s own words. For a mere thirty dollars, he acquired an instrument that would become synonymous with his sound. Upon playing it for the first time, he immediately recognized its flaws, yet was drawn to its unique character.
From “Piece of Shit” to Signature Sound: The Lillo’s Guitar
DeMarco’s musical background included formal training, starting with piano and singing lessons at his family’s encouragement. However, his passion for guitar ignited through friends in junior high. He pursued lessons at a conservatory in Alberta, a “fancy place” where he received instruction in contemporary styles. His teacher initially aligned with his “dad rock” interests, focusing on classic rock influences. However, when the instruction shifted towards fusion jazz techniques like tapping, DeMarco’s interest waned. His musical tastes at the time leaned towards artists like AC/DC, Van Halen, and later, blues icons such as Eric Clapton and John Mayall. He initially believed that mastering guitar meant emulating established players.
By the time DeMarco acquired his Lillo’s guitar, his musical direction was solidifying. Despite its shortcomings—a “huge” neck like a “baseball bat,” dead frets, and constant buzzing—he was drawn to its raw potential. He attempted to improve its playability by using a nail file on the frets, but struggled with the guitar’s action. It was a challenging instrument to tame, demanding a forceful playing style to sound its best.
Over time, the guitar’s neck wore in, and DeMarco discovered the pickup’s unique sonic qualities. He describes a distinctive tone that shifts dramatically with playing dynamics—soft and clean one moment, aggressive and biting the next. Moving to Vancouver, he recorded an EP with Makeout Videotape using this guitar. This period cemented its significance in his musical journey. Despite its persistent issues—difficulty staying in tune, frequent string breakage, and overall challenging playability—its “magic sound” kept him coming back.
Around the age of eighteen, this imperfect instrument became DeMarco’s “signature” guitar. He sold his other guitars, including the Telecaster gifted by his mother, and took the Lillo’s find with him to Montreal. As he continued playing, its distinctive look and sound began to attract attention. Fans started noticing it, posting pictures and inquiries online, speculating about its origins and make. Its non-generic appearance became a talking point, adding to its mystique and DeMarco’s unique brand. For DeMarco, it was appealing to own something unique, unlike mass-produced guitars readily available in chain stores.
The Trials and Tribulations of a Signature Guitar
Despite its iconic status, DeMarco admits he wasn’t always gentle with his cherished guitar. He recounts instances of throwing it across the stage during performances in Montreal. Eventually, the neck snapped, requiring replacement. The pickguard also broke and was replaced. DeMarco acknowledges that these repairs have altered the guitar’s original feel and playability. Even the pickup, a crucial component of its sound, suffered damage, with the magnets breaking into pieces.
In recent times, DeMarco has transitioned to playing a Stratocaster onstage, primarily due to the Lillo’s guitar’s fragility. He notes the irony: while string changes on his old guitar were quick, and he could often power through issues by relying on power chords, problems with the Stratocaster tend to be more disruptive. While he considers finding another cheap guitar, he lacks the patience to “wear one in” like he did with his signature instrument. Ultimately, parting ways with the original Lillo’s guitar remains unthinkable due to its irreplaceable sound.
Beyond the Guitar: Viceroys, Pinball, and Analog Gear
DeMarco’s affinity for his guitar extends to other objects, though not always in a sentimental way. He mentions his song about Viceroy cigarettes, a brand considered cheap and low-quality in Canada. While intended as a humorous nod to his background, the song unexpectedly resonated with fans in the US, where Viceroys were less common, leading some to order them online. Despite the song’s enduring appeal, DeMarco views cigarettes pragmatically: “a cigarette is a cigarette.”
Outside of music gear, pinball holds a significant place in DeMarco’s interests. His fascination began in Vancouver and deepened after moving to New York. He frequented Sunshine Laundromat, drawn to their pinball machines during a period of relative isolation in a new city.
Eventually, he purchased his own pinball machine, a 1994 Bally “Shadow.” He appreciates the nuances of different pinball tables, comparing them to guitars in their unique feel and characteristics. He once enjoyed maintaining his pinball machine, a hobby he associates with “middle-aged men in America,” but now prefers playing on well-maintained machines elsewhere. His tendency to tinker with gear stems from necessity rather than pure enjoyment.
This pragmatic approach applies to his vintage music equipment—synthesizers, drum machines, and tape recorders, in addition to his guitar. He values the sound of analog gear over digital alternatives, even if it requires repairs and maintenance. For DeMarco, the organic sound of tape is worth the effort, surpassing the often-laborious process of emulating it digitally.
A crucial piece of his gear is a Fender Vibro-Champ amp, a gift from his grandmother, who used it for teaching micing techniques. Initially underwhelmed by its lack of modern features like distortion and reverb, DeMarco has come to appreciate its exceptional tone, using it for all guitar recordings on his albums.
Ultimately, DeMarco’s preference for older, often imperfect gear isn’t driven by nostalgia, but by a desire for a specific “organic feel” and the ability to express his musical personality authentically. He embraces the quirks and challenges of his equipment, viewing them as integral to achieving his distinctive sound, prioritizing personal expression over chasing mainstream trends. His “signature” guitar, a testament to this philosophy, remains a crucial element in the Mac DeMarco sound that fans worldwide have come to love.
