The Story of Mr Jones: The Way Counting Crows Crafted Their Signature Song
Adam Duritz Shares the Beginnings
Our first albums were mostly produced in homes situated in the hills above Los Angeles. Their debut major label album marked a major step for the band, as it was their inaugural release on a major label. We each received an upfront payment of $3,000; I used mine to purchase a 1971 cherry red VW Karmann Ghia and drove it to LA.
Every morning, my routine included by playing a Poco track, which sounds like the Beatles venturing into country music. Also, I frequently played a jazz record that my dad had picked up as a free giveaway at a Texaco station when I was young.
The song Mr Jones was included on a demo that we submitted to labels, but it proved a challenging track to finish. It lacked a clear direction at first. Neither a slow ballad nor a fast-paced rock song; rather, it moves with a rhythm, requiring a real feel to perform. The style is soulful – closer to the Memphis soul sound than folk.
The band’s drummer couldn’t hear the song like the rest of us did – so T Bone brought in one of his heroes to play it.
We looked at a few production candidates, but when I spoke with T Bone Burnett, he really get where the group was headed. We had great potential, but I didn’t like with our overall tone – we were still learning how to work together. We removed all the synthesizers and effects pedals. Our drummer Steve Bowman couldn’t sync with the song’s rhythm, so the producer called in Denny Fongheiser, one of Steve’s favorites, to lay down the drums. Looking back, it’s amusing, but it was tough on Steve back then.
Marty Jones and I had played in bands together prior to Counting Crows. His father, David Serva, had made it in Spain and was returning in the Bay Area performing a tour. Attended one of his performances and hung out with the flamenco troupe bar-hopping. Next day, I went home and wrote the song. The lyrics reflect me and Marty that night, dreaming we were cool musicians so we could connect with the girls more confidently.
I believe, it’s one of the best songs I’ve composed. After playing Round Here on SNL in 1994, the record climbed 40 spots weekly for five or six weeks. Following that, Mr Jones turned into a major success.
David ImmerglĂĽck Recalls His Perspective
Back in the 80s, Adam, David Bryson, and I were sharing a space in a warehouse complex in Berkeley. Previously, I performed with another band and had an offshoot band named Monks of Doom.
One evening, I found Adam with a fresh recording he’d just done with Bryson. I heard this track titled the now-famous tune. It was done with a Dr Rhythm pocket drum machine that sounded like a video game or popcorn popping, but his vocals were on another level.
Once T Bone got involved, it was a total reinvention of Counting Crows. The approach back to basics influenced by folk and soul legends.
Adam called me saying, “Hey, man, can you join us and contribute to this album?” By the time I arrived, T Bone had moved us to a studio in Encino, Los Angeles – formerly used by Tito Jackson. There were instruments that Bob Dylan had just recorded on.
T Bone instructed me to perform behind the tempo the drums. He said, “Playing too fast before the drums makes you sound like an teenager rushing.” He has a southern accent, and his advice was to imagine putting your feet up on the mixing board and chewing gum during the performance.
The band was, in some ways, a reaction to the grunge movement. The tragic end of Cobain felt like the final act. At the time, many used heroin. The goal was obliteration, not enlightenment. That negativity had reached an extreme, and the pendulum swung toward something more human and sincere. Counting Crows combined acoustic and electric with a strong influence of Van Morrison soul.
The song never gets old. Sometimes, when performing with the singer, I recall that time when he first shared the early version. Absolutely incredible.
