Marshall Crenshaw
Somehow or another, I managed to miss Marshall Crenshaw’s March 2011 Nashville show at The Basement. He played solo — a good way to see how deftly the superb songwriter, guitarist and singer incorporates harmonically ingenious hot licks into his accompaniment. Tonight, Crenshaw returns to town, appearing at City Winery (tickets available here), where he’ll be backed by Missouri band The Bottle Rockets, who’ll play their own opening set. Crenshaw is, quite simply, one of the great rockers — having caught a 1996 full-band show he performed at New York’s The Bottom Line, I can attest to his wit, sincerity and super-slick guitar licks.
I spoke with Crenshaw, who now lives in Dutchess County, New York, on a wintry day late last month for this feature in this week’s Scene. Now check out my full Q&A with the pop-rock master, where we touch on his time recording in Nashville with Bill Lloyd and Brad Jones at Alex the Great, his new crowd-funded series of EPs, his hatred for the term "power pop," the brilliance of British freakbeat pioneers The Move and more.
Back in your Warner Bros. and MCA days, ‘80s and ‘90s, did you play Nashville a lot?
Lemme see, it’s kind of a sad saga, I guess. I played Exit/In when La Bamba was out. That would’ve been 1987. It was, you know, jammed wall-to-wall, like a real blowout. But I can’t think of any other gigs in Nashville that have been likewise. At the [2011 Basement] gig, it was nobody there, and it was just, like, strange. [Nashville's] not a stop on my usual touring map. It’s just kind of fallen off that map. I go to other places instead. I’m really happy we’re coming to the City Winery. I’m glad they gave us a shot — we’ve had sold-out shows all the other City Winerys around the country. So we’ll see, we’ll try our luck in Nashville.
I really like the Miracle of Science and #447 records, some of which you cut here in the ‘90s with Brad Jones at Brad’s Alex the Great Recording. What attracted you to working in Nashville?
I made three albums for Razor & Tie Records in New York. Two of them I did about half the work down there. I went to visit Brad and we did miscellaneous things: We cut some tracks there, some stuff that I did at home. It was an I-couldn’t-have-done-it-without-him kinda thing. [Nashville guitarist and singer] Bill Lloyd played on some of the stuff we did in Nashville. I met Brad through Bill. Bill played a set at SXSW with a four-piece rock group, Brad and a drummer and another guitar player, and I just thought they were great, you know. It was a good set. Shortly after that, I was looking to put a band together to go on the road. I had an album coming out on MCA Records [1991‘s Life's Too Short] — it was my last major-label fling. I got hold of Bill and said, “Who’s the bass player?” and that was it. We had a lot in common; [we] connected really easily.
You recently did a cover of The Move’s “No Time” on the first EP in your subscription series, I Don’t See You Laughing Now. I read an interesting comment you made about The Move — you said that you really liked them, but sometimes found their songs “content-free.” What did you mean by that?
They have a kind of funny history for a rock band. They start out as a five-piece group and gradually are reduced down to a threesome. Lots of hit singles in the beginning, and then not so much after awhile, I guess. Their star kind of fell over time, or their fortunes kind of fell over time. Definitely, in the States, you’ve got this very tiny cult following — maybe me and seven other people in America. But I got those last few records and some of ‘em, I guess what I meant when I made that comment, I was just talking about some of the songs on the albums that seemed kind of hurriedly slapped together. But you can find examples of that on a lot of people’s records. Content-free? I don’t know, I guess a lot of rock songs are like that, aren’t they? Some syllables pasted onto the melody to get the song finished. The Move did some stuff like that, and on the other hand, they did some stuff was really thoughtful and spot-on and really brilliant.
I know what you mean. Message From the Country is such a grab-bag of styles. I guess I ask the last question because I’m interested in the content of your Jaggedland record.
Jaggedland. I’m trying to remember what I said when I was doing interviews for Jaggedland. [Laughs]. One topic was mortality. When I was writing those songs, that was the first time I ever tackled that subject or thought about it. I was still kinda young then, younger than I am now. I was about seven years ago, and it was kind of a fresh topic at the time. Now I’m a little tired of it. It’s, like, a little more of a real thing, a little more of a daunting thing, that it was when I first started writing about it, when I first started contemplating it.
Your music has been called “power pop.” I’ve read some interviews with you in which you take issue with that label being applied to your music. What’s your opinion about it these days?
I’ve always hated that term being used when someone discusses my music, but I hate to be thin-skinned about it. For some reason, it’s always annoyed me to be put into that sub-category. I don’t think it’s fair, and I reject the concept. My stuff is popular music, or it’s rock music, you know? There’s a lot of power pop, quote-unquote, that is made by American anglophiles, and I won’t wear that label. The stuff that I do, it’s personal, you know? It’s coming from me; it’s not coming from this influence or that influence or a little bit of this mixed with a little bit of that. It’s all filtered through myself. I’m not trying to adhere to any musical doctrine other than just my own taste, and trying to create stuff that feels good to me.
You’ve always had great taste in cover versions. I recently listened to your live version of The Left Banke’s “Walk Away Renee.”
I still choke up whenever I hear that song. That song messes me up every time I hear it. There’s something about “Walk Away Renee” that’s one of the most powerful songs I’ve ever heard, just in terms of provoking an emotional reaction. The chorus: “As the rain beats down upon my weary eyes/For me it cries,” I don’t know, that’s great.
You’ve been working on a series of EPs since 2012. Is it close to being finished?
I set out to do a series of six, and the sixth one is now in the pipeline. That’s the stuff that’s really in my thoughts and close to my heart right now. If you can came to the show, you’ll hear us play a lot of those tunes, and we just play the ass off of those songs.
