By Jae-Ha Kim
Chicago Sun-Times
July 15, 1991
“I”m Marshall Crenshaw – power pop guru!” the musician jokingly announced after his first encore at the Vic Theatre Saturday night. As far as the packed house was concerned, Crenshaw couldn’t have been more correct.
When he released his debut album in 1982, critics hailed Crenshaw as pop music’s proverbial next big thing. Looking out at the enthusiastic fans at the Vic, the bespectacled musician, who got his start in show business portraying John Lennon in “Beatlemania,” gave them a knowing smile. Crenshaw’s name may not be synonymous with hits, but it does ring of quality. ”
The same old sounds, the same old sights, signify that it’s Saturday night,” Crenshaw sang, kicking off his show with 1983’s “Monday Morning Rock.” While the lyrics implied a certain boredom with the clubbing ritual, Crenshaw and his three-man, one-woman band looked anything but jaded as they pop and rolled through an hour-and-a-half concert that easily made the transition between current songs and golden gems from his earlier LPs.
Wearing faded jeans, a tie-dyed shirt, jacket and a straw fedora, the New York-based musician didn’t look much different than when he opened for the Stray Cats at the Aragon almost nine years ago. His clear, emotionally resonant voice is a wonderful hybrid of some of the best pop musicians: Roger McGuinn and Buddy Holly spring to mind. It’s also true that Crenshaw’s music is somewhat derivative of those artists, particularly in the melodic guitar lines. But at least he’s smart enough to borrow from the best and add his own modern-day twists.
On “Someday, Someway,” a tune from his debut album that also is one of his best, Crenshaw and lead guitarist Mitch Easter (formerly of the deactivated Let’s Active) created melodies that sounded liked the Crickets, while the overly simplistic lyrics told why love is so difficult to figure out: “I can’t stand to see you sad. I can’t bear to hear you cry. If you can’t tell me what you need, all I can do is wonder why.”
After warming the audience with some “oldies” from the early ’80s, Crenshaw played “Don’t Disappear Now” and “Fantastic Planet of Love,” both from his current LP “Life’s Too Short.” Sounding confident, Crenshaw stepped back and let Easter set the tone for the songs. Keyboardist-guitarist Angie Carlson (also formerly of Let’s Active) added some subtle touches to the live renditions, helping make the songs less pleading and more urgent. And on an acoustic set where Ron Grump played stand-up drums, the band turned in a searing version of “Whenever You’re on My Mind.”
While Crenshaw never has been able to live up to the hyperbole thrusted upon him during the early part of his career, the slight musician has produced a string of records that has been as critically acclaimed as it has been commercially unsuccessful. But his time will come. It took Bonnie Raitt two decades to win four Grammys and Chris Isaak six years to become an overnight success.
Crenshaw and company closed their set with a dead-on cover of Elvis Presley’s “Viva Las Vegas” that was done so well you half expected Ann-Margret to come prancing out onstage beside him. When an artist gets that close to perfection, somehow even “power pop guru” doesn’t seem to do him justice.
