The Creation of Mr Jones: The Way Counting Crows Crafted Their Defining Track
Adam Duritz Remembers the Beginnings
Our first albums were primarily produced in homes situated in the hills above Los Angeles. Their debut major label album marked a major step for the group, as it was their first release on a large record company. Each member got an advance of $3,000; with it, I to purchase a classic red convertible and drove it to LA.
Every morning, I would start by playing Pickin’ Up the Pieces by Poco, which sounds like the Beatles exploring country music. Additionally, I was into a Benny Goodman album that my father had acquired as a free giveaway at a gas station during my childhood.
The song Mr Jones was part of a demo that we sent to record companies, but it proved a challenging song to finish. We didn’t have a solid grasp at first. It’s not a leisurely tune or a straight ahead number; instead, it gallops along, demanding a deep understanding to perform. It’s soul music – closer to the Memphis soul sound than folk.
The band’s drummer couldn’t hear the song as the others did – thus the producer enlisted one of his idols to play it.
We looked at several producers, but when I spoke with T Bone Burnett, he seemed to get where the band was headed. We had 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 effects pedals. The drummer had trouble with the tempo, so the producer invited a renowned drummer, one of Steve’s favorites, to play on it. Looking back, it’s amusing, but it was hard on Steve back then.
Marty Jones and I performed in bands together prior to Counting Crows. His father, a flamenco musician, had succeeded in Spain and was returning in the Bay Area doing a tour. Attended one of his performances and hung out with the flamenco troupe bar-hopping. The next morning, I returned and wrote Mr Jones. It’s about our experience that night, dreaming we were cool musicians so we could connect with the women more easily.
I believe, it’s among the finest pieces I’ve ever written. After playing Round Here on Saturday Night Live in 1994, the record climbed dozens of positions each week for over a month. Afterwards, the song turned into 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 had an offshoot band 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 titled the now-famous tune. Recorded with a basic drum machine that resembled a video game or random noise, but his singing were on another level.
Once T Bone took over, it was a total reinvention of Counting Crows. The approach back to basics influenced by folk and soul legends.
I got a call from Adam asking, “Hey, man, can you come down and play on this album?” When I arrived, the producer had moved us to a recording space in LA’s Encino – previously used by Tito Jackson. There were guitars that Bob Dylan had just recorded on.
T Bone told me to perform slightly behind the drums. His words were, “If you rush ahead of the drums makes you sound like an teenager hurrying.” With his Texas drawl, and his advice was to imagine relaxing on the console and staying casual while playing.
The band was, in some ways, a reaction to the grunge movement. Kurt Cobain’s death felt like the culmination. Back then, everyone used heroin. The aim was obliteration, not mind expansion. That negativity had gone too far, and the pendulum swung toward something emotional and heartfelt. Their music combined acoustic and electric with a heavy dose of Van Morrison soul.
The song remains timeless. On stage, when I am rocking out with the singer, I remember that moment when he first shared the demo. It’s insane.