Adam Duritz Recalls the Early Days
Our first albums were primarily produced in houses located in the hills above Los Angeles. August and Everything After signified a major milestone for the group, as it was their first release on a major label. Each member received an advance of $3,000; I used mine to buy a classic red convertible and traveled to LA.
Every morning, I would start by playing a Poco track, which resembles the Beatles venturing into American folk. Also, I was into a jazz record that my father had picked up as a free giveaway at a Texaco station during my childhood.
Mr Jones was part of a demo tape that we submitted to record companies, but it proved a very difficult song to finish. It lacked a solid grasp at first. Neither a leisurely tune or a fast-paced rock song; rather, it gallops along, requiring a deep understanding to play. It’s soul music – closer to the Memphis soul style than folk.
Our drummer struggled to grasp the song as the rest of us did – so T Bone enlisted one of his idols to play it.
We considered several production candidates, but when I discussed things with T Bone Burnett, he seemed to understand where the band was at. We had great potential, but I didn’t like with our sound – we hadn’t learned how to be a band. We removed all the synths and effects pedals. Our drummer Steve Bowman had trouble with the song’s rhythm, so the producer invited a renowned drummer, one of Steve’s heroes, to lay down the drums. It’s a funny story, but it was tough on Steve at the time.
Marty Jones and I had played in groups together before Counting Crows. Marty’s dad, David Serva, had succeeded in Spain and was returning in the San Francisco area performing a series of shows. We went one of his performances and spent the night with the flamenco troupe bar-hopping. Next day, I returned and composed the song. The lyrics reflect me and Marty that evening, dreaming we were accomplished artists so we could talk to the girls more easily.
In my view, it’s one of the best pieces I’ve ever written. We performed Round Here on Saturday Night Live in 1994, the album climbed 40 spots weekly for five or six weeks. Following that, the song turned into a major success.
David Immerglück Recalls His Memories
In the late 1980s, the band members were sharing a space in a industrial building in Berkeley. Previously, I performed with another band and was in an offshoot band named Monks of Doom.
Returning home one night, I found Adam with a new demo he’d just done with Bryson. He played me this track called Mr Jones. Recorded with a basic drum machine that sounded like a video game or popcorn popping, but his vocals were exceptional.
Once T Bone got involved, it was a total reinvention of Counting Crows. They shifted back to basics echoing folk and soul legends.
Adam called me saying, “Listen, can you come down and contribute to this record?” By the time I arrived, the producer had moved us to a recording space in LA’s Encino – formerly used by a Jackson 5 member. There were guitars that Bob Dylan had just recorded on.
He instructed me to perform behind the tempo the beat. He said, “Playing too fast before the drums comes off like an adolescent hurrying.” With his Texas drawl, and his guidance was to imagine relaxing on the mixing board and chewing gum during the performance.
Counting Crows was, to an extent, a response to grunge. The tragic end of Cobain felt like the final act. At the time, many were on heroin. The goal was obliteration, not mind expansion. The nihilism had reached an extreme, and the trend shifted toward something emotional and sincere. Their music blended acoustic and electric with a heavy dose of Van Morrison soul.
Mr Jones remains timeless. On stage, when I am rocking out with Adam, I recall that moment when he played me the early version. It’s insane.
