With its encyclopedic array of early rock 'n' roll hooks and a spare guitar sound that anyone could duplicate, Marshall Crenshaw's eponymous 1982 debut was the perfect primer, the kind of record mainstream acts could plunder for material to plug into the already ebbing New Wave. The fact that the record didn't make its author a star along the lines of other retro-pop singer-songwriters like Elvis Costello and Nick Lowe is considered by some to be one of the great injustices of the '80s.
Blame it on timing. As the New Wave turned from a musical movement to a fashion statement, artists who valued originality headed for indieville, thus stranding journeyman power-poppers like Crenshaw and T-Bone Burnett on the front lines to fight the forces of pretension by themselves. Burnett turned to producing (he even produced Crenshaw), but Crenshaw kept doing what he did best -- writing perfect three-minute songs and playing to a devoted following of local fans in his adopted home of New York City (he grew up in Detroit).
Between '82 and '89, when he finally left Warner Bros., Crenshaw released five solo albums that invariably delighted everyone who heard them but were nevertheless ignored by the medium that was their natural environment: radio. Crenshaw's ability to maintain quality output over the long haul is explained not so much by his talent as by his discernment.
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