The Story of Mr Jones: The Way Counting Crows Crafted Their Defining Track
Adam Duritz Shares the Formative Period
The initial four records were mostly recorded in homes situated 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 large record company. Each member received an upfront payment of $3,000; with it, I to buy a 1971 cherry red VW Karmann Ghia and drove it to LA.
Every morning, my routine included by playing a Poco track, which resembles the Beatles exploring American folk. Additionally, I was into a jazz record that my dad had acquired as a complimentary item at a gas station when I was young.
Mr Jones was included on a demo that we submitted to labels, but it was a very difficult song to finish. We didn’t have a clear direction at first. It’s not a leisurely tune nor a fast-paced number; instead, it gallops along, demanding a real feel to perform. It’s soul music – closer to the Stax Records sound than folk.
Our drummer couldn’t hear the song as the others did – so the producer brought in one of his idols to play it.
We looked at a few producers, but when I discussed things with the producer, he seemed to understand where the band was at. There was a lot of promise, but I didn’t like with our overall tone – we hadn’t learned how to work together. We removed all the synthesizers and guitar effects. Our drummer Steve Bowman had trouble with the song’s rhythm, so T Bone invited Denny Fongheiser, one of Steve’s heroes, to play on it. It’s a funny story, but it was tough on Steve back then.
My best friend Marty and I had played in groups together prior to Counting Crows. Marty’s dad, David Serva, had made it 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. The next morning, I went home and composed Mr Jones. It’s about our experience that evening, wishing we were accomplished artists so we could talk to the women more easily.
In my view, it’s among the finest pieces I’ve composed. We performed Round Here on SNL in 1994, the record climbed dozens of positions each week for five or six weeks. Afterwards, the song became a major success.
The Multi-Instrumentalist Recalls His Memories
In the late 1980s, Adam, David Bryson, and I were sharing a space in a warehouse complex in Berkeley. Previously, I performed with another band and was in an side project called Monks of Doom.
Returning home one night, I found Adam with a fresh recording he’d just done with the guitarist. I heard this song called Mr Jones. It was done with a Dr Rhythm pocket drum machine that resembled a arcade sound or random noise, but his vocals were exceptional.
After the producer took over, it was a total reinvention of Counting Crows. They shifted toward roots echoing folk and soul legends.
Adam called me asking, “Hey, man, can you come down and play on this album?” By the time I got there, the producer had moved us to a recording space in Encino, Los Angeles – previously used by Tito Jackson. There were instruments that Dylan had recently used.
T Bone instructed me to perform slightly behind the beat. His words were, “Playing too fast before the drums comes off like an teenager rushing.” He has a Texas drawl, and his guidance was to visualize putting your feet up on the console and staying casual during the performance.
Counting Crows was, in some ways, a reaction to grunge. Kurt Cobain’s death seemed the culmination. Back then, many used heroin. The goal was obliteration, not mind expansion. That negativity had reached an extreme, and the pendulum swung toward something emotional and sincere. Their music blended acoustic and electric with a strong influence of Van Morrison soul.
The song remains timeless. Sometimes, when I am rocking out with the singer, I remember that time when he played me the early version. It’s insane.