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#447, Gatos Pandilleros, Jeffrey Foskett, Marshall Crenshaw, Michael Fiore, Mom, Red Hot, Ronnie Spector, The Kavanaghs, The Unswept, Will of the Wind
With the re-release of Marshall Crenshaw’s fantastic 1999 album #447 fans can dig into an LP full of undervalued gems like “Television Light,” “T.M.D.” and “Right There in Front of Me.” The new re-issue also includes Crenshaw’s most recent new recording, a double A-sided single of “Santa Fe” and “Will of the Wind.” Just listen to the smooth hookyness and ace guitar playing on the latter tune. Damn, Marshall has still got it!
Revisiting Crenshaw’s work from the 1990s got me wondering just why others have not mined his catalogue for covers in the way we’ve seen people do with other comparable acts from his era. I mean, Nick Lowe has got FOUR separate tribute albums and an LP of Los Straightjackets’ instrumental versions. Where’s the Crenshaw love? So far, it seems mostly focused on his early work and by early I mean his pre-major label singles and the self-titled debut album. So in honour of the deluxe re-release of #447 I decided to work up my own tribute album by gathering together what covers I could find, avoiding the really obvious ones (sorry Bette!) in favour of less well known versions. It’s basically a ‘taking liberties’ version of that first album I’ve dubbed Reinventing Marshall Crenshaw.
We kick things off with sometime Beach Boy pinch-hitter Jeffrey Foskett. He’s just the guy with the vocal chops to cover “You’re My Favorite Waste of Time.” The results are a slightly tighter updating of Marshall’s own great take on the tune. Ronnie Spector sings the hell out Marshall’s perfect paean to the early 1960s girl group groove “Something’s Gonna Happen.” And she would, wouldn’t she? Sweden’s Mom takes the opening cut from Marshall’s debut in a new direction, amping up the guitar slashes and bass guitar lines on “There She Goes Again.” Musically it’s very Cars at times. Next up we head to Argentina for Gatos Pandilleros‘ spirited version of “Someday Someway.” It’s got a charming stripped-down feel that lets the song’s joy shine through. Red Hot take “The Usual Thing” into a more rockabilly and country direction vocally while retaining Marshall’s distinctive guitar aura. The Unswept step on the jangle pedal for their reworking of “Cynical Girl” and it works, adding something special to a song already pretty dear to the hearts of Crenshaw fans. Though ultimately featured on Field Day, demos of “Whenever You’re on my Mind” also come from the same period as the debut album. Thus I think we can sneak it into this tribute. As it is my fave MC tune I’ve got two covers. One is a wonderfully shambolic DIY take from Michael Fiore that comes off like a deep cut from a Replacements live album. The other is a more spartan guitar pop treatment from The Kavanaghs. Both manage to coax the magic out of this irrepressible classic.
There are other covers of Marshall’s songs. Sometimes they come from co-writers like Don Dixon and Bill DeMain, or from big name acts like the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, or country artists like Lou Ann Barton and Kelly Willis. But come on people, this hardly scratches the surface of Crenshaw’s amazing catalogue! We are long overdue for an MC tribute album, one that draws from the full breadth of his impressive recorded output. Let’s see someone take the lead on this project … now.
You can order your new, refurbished and expanded copy of #447 online and keep up with the latest Marshall news here.
Marshall Crenshaw has long been my fave solo artist. Why MC? Maybe it was the glasses – he looked kinda smart and rock and roll. But what first caught my attention was the 1000 watt hook lighting up Field Day’s first single, “Whenever You’re on My Mind.” Has anyone recorded a more perfect seven seconds of poprock intro? I don’t think so. But then I’ve always been a sucker for a stunning lead guitar line – stuff like the Beatles’ “I Feel Fine” and “Day Tripper” or the Church’s “Unguarded Moment” and Big Country’s “In a Big Country.” But it’s more than just hooks that makes Crenshaw a poprock legend, there’s something about his songs that can always toggle the joy and an involuntary smile from me. And it’s all there with his combination of 1950s Buddy Holly and Everly’s roots, Beatlesque melodies and a 1980s new wave/indie delivery.
With ten albums, six EPs, and a host of one-off singles, compilation contributions and covers there’s plenty of Crenshaw to choose from. What follows is just my whirlwind and idiosyncratic take on a pretty fabulous and inventive career. Now to begin, let’s be clear that MC’s first two albums, the self-titled Marshall Crenshaw and Field Day, are pretty much poprock perfection. I shouldn’t single anything out – these records are nonstop ear candy. I’ll say this much, you can dance to “She Can’t Dance” while “One Day With You” is a masterclass in melodic songcraft. Funny, though I first heard MC via Field Day’s initial single, I didn’t pick up the album until years later. Problem was, as an older release (by one year when I first heard it!) the damn record never went on sale at my local retailer.
The first Crenshaw album I really got into in real time (i.e. when it was released) was Downtown and it remains my favourite, mostly for sentimental reasons. I bought it and played it non-stop in my first one-room apartment in Vancouver’s West End. It was both a declaration of adult independence and – thematically, with its retro 1960s Warner Brothers vibe – a strong link to my parents’ record collection. The album rocks on tracks like “Right Now,” “Little Wild One,” “Terrifying Love,” and “(We’re Gonna) Shake Up Their Minds” while Everly-ing the hell out of “Vague Memory” and “Lesson Number One.”
From then on I’ve pretty much picked up every EC release as soon as they hit the shelves and never been disappointed. If you’re just starting out, here would be my picks from each to get you into the groove. From 1987’s Mary Jean & 9 Others I’d drop the needle on “Mary Jean” and “Calling Out for Love at Crying Time.” You really get a sense of Crenshaw’s mastery of the hooky lead line here. 1989’s Good Evening is hard to make choices over given its exquisite, dynamic mix of originals and covers. Personally I love “Someplace Love Can’t Find Me,” “She Hates to Go Home,” and “On the Run” but really I feel like I’m choosing which limb to hack off because every song here is pretty special. In 1991 MC left Warners for MCA with Life’s Too Short. In interviews for the record Crenshaw talked about the work he put into extending his guitar technique and it showed on should-be hit singles like “Delilah,” “Fantastic Planet of Love,” and “Don’t Disappear Now.”
And then Crenshaw left the major label scene altogether for the relative freedom of more independent releases, first with Razor and Tie and then with his own 429 Records. Since then he’s moved in some new directions musically but always offered up some melodic poprock gems, like “What Do You Dream Of?” and “Starless Summer Sky” from 1996’s Miracle of Science, or “Television Light” and “Right There in Front of Me” from 1999’s #447. In the new millennium there’s been “A Few Thousand Days Ago” from 2003’s What’s in the Bag? and “Long Hard Road” from 2009’s Jaggedland. #395 is MC’s EP collection from 2015, a kind of quasi-album at 14 tracks, and it sees Crenshaw back in excellent form with “Moving Now,” “Front Page News,” and a killer Bobby Fuller cover “Never to be Forgotten.”
Just to prove my MC cred, here’s snap from my past featuring my unique bachelor apartment decor! Ok, this is actually my second apartment (circa 1987) but if you look up in the far right corner, you’ll see the Billboard magazine ad/poster for MC’s debut LP that appears above on the wall! Photo credit: James Koester.
What started out as a home demo B-side has gone on to become one of Marshall Crenshaw’s most enduring and widely covered songs! Crenshaw recalls that “You’re My Favorite Waste of Time” was written while he was still employed playing John Lennon in the off Broadway production of Beatlemania, and that it was one of his very first forays into songwriting. Marshall’s version of the song – still the definitive treatment IMHO – has him playing all the parts in his New York City apartment home studio in 1979, despite being credited on the 45 to the ‘Handsome, Ruthless and Stupid Band’ when released as the B-side to “Someday Someway” in 1982. Cover versions have emerged at regular intervals since then. What draws people to the tune? No doubt it’s Crenshaw’s unmistakable, unforgettable vocal hook in the chorus that gives the song its classic and timeless poprock sound.
Bobby Fuller’s untimely death in 1966, just as his career was taking off, deprived popular music of his unique Buddy Holly-meets-British Invasion sound and clear songwriting promise. Case in point: “Let Her Dance,” an ear-wormy, hook-rich masterpiece. The song contains a brilliant juxtaposition of musical tensions that pull between the beat, lead guitar line, vocal melody, and some inspired background- vocal counterpoint. No wonder it’s been covered by countless bands, each choosing to balance the competing elements in somewhat different and intriguing ways. Today’s post explores that variety with a “Let Her Dance”-a-thon. Get your dancing shoes ready!
Where to start? With The Bobby Fuller Four, of course. Though here fans may not know that “Let Her Dance” was actually a rewrite of an earlier Fuller release, “Keep On Dancing.” IMHO the rewrite improves things considerably but compare for yourself below. Now, confession time: the first version of LHD I heard was actually by Marshall Crenshaw from his 1989 Warner’s swan song album, Good Evening. Marshall is a huge Fuller fan, describing him as his “favourite rock star ever to be murdered by gangsters.” More seriously though, at a South by Southwest Bobby Fuller panel session, Crenshaw called the group “…one of the great rock ‘n’ roll bands,” insisting “[t]hey did what they did with so much conviction and energy. Those guys really knew what Fender guitars were for.” In addition to LHD, Crenshaw has covered Fuller’s “Julia,” “My True Love,” and “Never To Be Forgotten.” And Crenshaw’s LHD is a loving homage, fattening up the opening guitar, spacing out the vocal parts, and adding a nice echo-y bit to the bridge. Compared to the original, all that’s missing is Fuller’s heavenly wall-of-background-vocals.
Names come and go. Some, like Gertrude, Hilda, and Agnes, are probably never coming back. But others carry on through generations, like Maryanne. It’s a name that conjures up the quintessential girl next door. She seemed to be at every dance in the 1950s, ended up shipwrecked with Gilligan in the 1960s, and was the focus of a host of singer-songwriter’s attentions in the 1970s. Leonard Cohen tried to say “So Long Marianne” but it didn’t work. More Mary Anne songs kept coming. Today’s post focuses on songs named for Maryanne, Mary Anne or Mary-Anne (though, curiously, not Marianne).
Poprock Record 