Field Day

Chronique

Marshall Crenshaw's 1982 debut album was the sort of instant classic that some musicians secretly fear making – no matter what they do, following up a near-perfect introduction is going to let someone down, and if you can't decisively top it, you get accused of the dreaded Sophomore Slump. Rather than try to recreate the crisp, timeless pop perfection of Marshall Crenshaw, Crenshaw teamed with producer Steve Lillywhite for 1983's Field Day, where he aimed for a dirtier, more roomy sound that better reflected how he and his band sounded on stage. To a very real extent, they succeeded, but they also captured the sound of Crenshaw playing in a huge room lacking acoustical treatment – the huge, echo-laden sound and crashing drums of Field Day rubbed many fans and critics the wrong way, and some have cited it as the moment where Crenshaw's rising career momentum hit a major speed bump. Heard decades after the fact, Lillywhite's mix still puts too much emphasis on Robert Crenshaw's drums, but listen past that and you'll hear an album full of great songs, clever wit, potent guitar playing, killer basslines and harmonies from Chris Donato, and a lively, committed feel that flatters Crenshaw and his band. And if anything, Crenshaw had grown as a songwriter in the year that separated the debut and Field Day – "Whenever You're On My Mind" is an essentially perfect pop song, but "Our Town" isn't afraid to add a bit of shade to its sunshine, and "Monday Morning Rock" and "Hold It" are mature works that deal with more complex, grown-up emotions without sacrificing Crenshaw's melodic genius. Field Day wasn't a crowd-pleasing pop masterpiece like Marshall Crenshaw, but it's also a more ambitious and complex work that rewards careful listening – get past the drums and you'll hear something very special.

© Mark Deming /TiVo