The Creation of the Hit Song Mr Jones: How Counting Crows Developed Their Iconic Song
Adam Duritz Recalls the Beginnings
Our first four records were primarily produced in houses located in the foothills above Los Angeles. August and Everything After signified a major milestone for the band, as it was their first release on a major label. Each member got an upfront payment of $3,000; I used mine to purchase a 1971 cherry red VW Karmann Ghia and traveled to LA.
Each day, my routine included by listening to Pickin’ Up the Pieces by Poco, which resembles 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 during my childhood.
Mr Jones was included on a demo that we submitted to labels, but it was a very difficult track to complete. We didn’t have a clear direction at first. It’s not a slow ballad nor a fast-paced rock song; instead, it gallops along, demanding a real feel to perform. It’s soul music – more akin to the Stax Records sound than country.
The band’s drummer couldn’t hear the song as the rest of us did – thus T Bone brought in one of his idols to play it.
We considered a few producers, but when I discussed things with T Bone Burnett, he seemed to get where the band was headed. There was a lot of promise, but I wasn’t satisfied with our overall tone – we were still learning how to be a band. We removed all the synths and guitar effects. The drummer had trouble with the tempo, so the producer invited a renowned drummer, one of Steve’s favorites, to lay down the drums. Looking back, it’s amusing, but it was hard on Steve at the time.
Marty Jones and I had played in bands together before Counting Crows. His father, David Serva, had succeeded in Spain and was back in the San Francisco area doing a tour. Attended one of his performances and spent the night with the flamenco troupe bar-hopping. The next morning, I went home and composed Mr Jones. The lyrics reflect me and Marty that evening, wishing we were accomplished artists so we could talk to the girls more confidently.
In my view, it’s among the finest pieces I’ve composed. We performed another track on Saturday Night Live in 1994, the record climbed 40 spots weekly for over a month. Afterwards, the song became a huge hit.
David Immerglück Shares His Perspective
In the late 1980s, Adam, David Bryson, and I were sharing a space in a industrial building in Berkeley. Previously, I performed with another band and had an side project called Monks of Doom.
One evening, Adam had a fresh recording he’d just done with the guitarist. I heard this track titled the now-famous tune. It was done with a basic drum machine that resembled a arcade sound or popcorn popping, but his vocals were exceptional.
After the producer got involved, it was a total reinvention of Counting Crows. The approach toward roots influenced by folk and soul legends.
Adam called me asking, “Listen, can you join us and play on this album?” 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. Inside, we found guitars that Bob Dylan had recently used.
He instructed me to perform behind the tempo the drums. His words were, “Playing too fast ahead of the drums makes you sound like an adolescent hurrying.” With his Texas drawl, and his advice was to imagine relaxing on the mixing board and staying casual while playing.
Counting Crows was, to an extent, a reaction to grunge. The tragic end of Cobain seemed the culmination. Back then, everyone were on heroin. The aim was self-destruction, not enlightenment. That negativity had gone too far, and the trend shifted toward something emotional and heartfelt. Counting Crows blended acoustic and electric with a heavy dose of Van Morrison soul.
Mr Jones never gets old. Sometimes, when performing with Adam, I remember that moment when he first shared the early version. Absolutely incredible.