He’s got precursors, sorta — Kurt Vile, Ariel Pink and Daniel Johnston come to mind — but Canadian slacker-rock pioneer Mac DeMarco is definitely his own special, befuddling mix of defiantly casual and deceptively crafty. He’s got this impossibly tangy and crystalline guitar tone that doesn’t feel the least bit fussed over, but it’s just too luscious and idiosyncratic not to be. DeMarco’s forté is seemingly knocked-off, borderline inane slice-of-life lyrics — mostly about cigarettes, boredom and girls (preferably denim-clad) — which he sets to tight, heartbreakingly winsome little melodies. His whole presentation pretty much screams amiable goofball slouch, but in the right light he comes off effortlessly, enviably hip and art-damaged. Imagine someone bridging the improbable affective disjunct between the young Jonathan Richman and his icon/would-be prototype, Lou Reed. DeMarco’s also promisingly prolific, dropping one full-length and one EP in 2012. The full-length called 2 was certainly the more lucid — it kicked off with the year’s finest riff, with plenty more to follow — but its weirder, scruffier predecessor, Rock and Roll Night Club, was nearly as intriguing. None of it will prepare you for a live DeMarco “raunchfest” renowned for its lewdness and crudeness.
Mon., March 4, 7 p.m., $10, with Naomi Punk, Calvin Love and Neighborhood Choir, Kung Fu Necktie, 1250 N. Front St., 215-291-4919, kungfunecktie.com.