Marshall Crenshaw’s Self Titled Debut Gets 40th Anniversary Expanded Edition (ALBUM REVIEW)

It’s a testament to Marshall Crenshaw’s persistence, not to mention his professional pride, that he’s secured the rights to his catalog as originally released on Warner Brothers Records. Issued on double-LP vinyl for RSD reissue in the fall of 2022–in which format it sold out–a 40th Anniversary Expanded Edition of his self-titled debut on compact disc reaffirms the value of the album. 

Even with critical acclaim and cachet at the time, the record didn’t quite fulfill its anticipated promise. Still, the lack of recognition, at least in sales terms, hardly undermines the Detroit native’s reinvention of rock and roll, pop, and R&B verities. Quite the contrary, in fact, as Crenshaw, with the hindsight of four decades now, was clearly just as loyal to traditional roots as the contemporary fashion of the Eighties era in which it appeared. 

So, guitars, as layered as vocal harmonies, adorn arrangements like that of “Someday Someway” and “There She Goes Again” and the performances themselves–largely by the touring band of Crenshaw, bassist Chris Donato and Marshall’s sibling drummer Robert–are replete with such natural gusto. Like “Girls,” a tune too good-natured to sound sexist, they become wholly infectious invitations to sing along and dance.

At the same time, within “Cynical Girl” and “The Usual Thing,” there’s a verbal literacy and emotional maturity that to some degree belies the Beatlesque instrumental format (Marshall was cast in the role of Lennon for Broadway’s ‘Beatlemania). Meanwhile, “Rockin’ Around in N.Y.C.” is a far cry from the disaffection and detachment of the punk and New Wave movements that plateaued late in the previous decade. 

Such nuance supplements rather than detracts from the musicians’ vigor, ironically no more so than on the sole non-original here, “Soldier of Love” (perhaps not coincidentally, once covered by the Fab Four). By and large, the threesome sounds absolutely effervescent in their singing and playing and subtle touches like handclaps bolster that overall effect as does the percussion of Richard Gottehrer (co-producer of the LP with MC).

With the remastering for this release by Greg Calbi, such touches receive the proper attention in the mix. There is noticeably more space between the instruments and voices on “Not For Me” which only amplifies the sense of the trio captured in action (which unfortunately renders more egregious the absence of concert content here). The audio now rectifies some of Marshall’s second thoughts about the original (overly?) polished audio.

In his good-natured liner notes for this reissue, Crenshaw further admits to some more reservations about his now forty-year-old song choices. For instance, he suggests he might’ve included “Look At What I Almost Missed” instead of the aforementioned cover, this point-of-view despite a somewhat sluggish take included here. One of seven bonus tracks in the package, it is not (as duly noted) the same take as the one appearing on the expanded CD of 2000, but there are two previously released numbers –“Something’s Gonna Happen” and “Brand New Lover”–juxtaposed with those making their first appearance(s). 

None of these self-professed ‘home recordings’ really evince the verve of the dozen chosen takes, which speaks to the camaraderie of the two Crenshaw brothers with Donato. Still, the ever-so-wry “(You’re My Favorite) Waste of Time” has an irresistible charm and the decorative background vocal harmonies on “Mary Anne” suggest the multitude of creative ideas from which the studio team chose in the five weeks’ work to complete the LP. 

Kudos to Marshall for not simply matching the content of the previous reissue, but then he’s made a point of not repeating himself throughout his career. Accordingly, as keynoted by a variation on the earlier cover photo, the enclosed ten-page booklet tenders the insightful copy by Crenshaw plus candid photos that vividly confirm the passage of time since Marshall Crenshaw first came out in 1982. 

Marshall released a live collection titled I’ve Suffered For My Art…Now It’s Your Turn in 2001, but that tongue-in-cheek, self-effacing sentiment was no more fitting there than with this retrospective reissue.