"I like living by the water. It's new and crazy for me," says Mac DeMarco, smoking and peering out at the bay in Far Rockaway, Queens. All around, nature blends with reminders of civilization: Behind him, sun-dappled waves are chopped up by freighter boats and the occasional jet ski passing by. Across the water sits JFK airport, with its distant engine hum of planes taking off and landing at a steady, rhythmic clip. The crisp, salty sea breeze mingles with wafts of stagnant water, decaying debris and dead horseshoe crabs that wash ashore. For the charismatic 26-year-old songwriter who grew up in the landlocked plains of Canada, the water still holds an exotic appeal. Plus, the area's laid-back feel is a perfect match for his laconic delivery and perpetually chill personality.