Adam Duritz Shares the Early Days
Our first four records were mostly recorded in houses situated in the foothills above Los Angeles. Their debut major label album marked a significant milestone for the group, as it was their inaugural release on a large record company. Each member received an upfront payment of $3,000; I used mine to purchase a 1971 cherry red VW Karmann Ghia and traveled to LA.
Every morning, I would start by listening to Pickin’ Up the Pieces by Poco, which sounds like the Beatles venturing into American folk. Additionally, I frequently played a jazz record that my father had acquired as a free giveaway at a gas station when I was young.
The song Mr Jones was part of a demo that we submitted to labels, but it proved a very difficult song to complete. It lacked a clear direction at first. It’s not a slow ballad nor a fast-paced number; instead, it moves with a rhythm, demanding a real feel to play. The style is soulful – more akin to the Stax Records sound than folk.
Our drummer couldn’t hear the track like the others did – so the producer enlisted one of his idols to play it.
We looked at a few production candidates, but when I spoke with T Bone Burnett, he seemed to get where the band was headed. We had great potential, but I didn’t like with our sound – we were still learning how to work together. We removed all the synthesizers and guitar effects. The drummer had trouble with the tempo, so the producer called in Denny Fongheiser, one of Steve’s favorites, to lay down the drums. It’s a funny story, but it was hard on Steve back then.
Marty Jones and I had played in groups together prior to Counting Crows. His father, David Serva, had succeeded in Spain and was returning in the San Francisco area performing a tour. Attended one of his performances and hung out with the flamenco troupe bar-hopping. The next morning, I went home and wrote Mr Jones. It’s about me and Marty that evening, dreaming we were accomplished artists so we could connect with the women more easily.
In my view, it’s among the finest pieces I’ve ever written. We performed Round Here on SNL in 1994, the record jumped 40 spots weekly for over a month. Afterwards, the song became a major success.
David Immerglück Shares His Perspective
In the late 1980s, Adam, David Bryson, and I were living together in a warehouse complex in Berkeley. Previously, I performed with another band and was in an side project called Monks of Doom.
One evening, Adam had a fresh recording he’d created with Bryson. I heard this track titled the now-famous tune. It was done with a basic drum machine that sounded like a video game or popcorn popping, but his vocals were exceptional.
After the producer got involved, it felt like a total reinvention of Counting Crows. The approach toward roots influenced by Bob Dylan, Van Morrison, and the Band.
I got a call from Adam saying, “Hey, man, can you come down and contribute to this record?” By the time I arrived, T Bone had relocated us to a studio in LA’s Encino – formerly used by a Jackson 5 member. Inside, we found instruments that Bob Dylan had recently used.
T Bone instructed me to perform slightly behind the drums. His words were, “If you rush ahead of 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.
The band was, to an extent, a reaction to grunge. Kurt Cobain’s death felt like the final act. At the time, many were on heroin. The goal was self-destruction, not enlightenment. The nihilism had reached an extreme, and the pendulum swung toward something more human and heartfelt. Counting Crows combined folk and rock with a heavy dose of soulful vibes.
Mr Jones never gets old. On stage, when performing with Adam, I recall that moment when he played me the demo. It’s insane.
