The initial four records were primarily produced in homes situated in the hills above Los Angeles. August and Everything After signified a major milestone for the band, as it was their inaugural release on a major label. Each member received an advance of $3,000; I used mine to buy a classic red convertible and drove it to LA.
Each day, my routine included by playing Pickin’ Up the Pieces by Poco, which sounds like the Beatles exploring American folk. Additionally, I frequently played a Benny Goodman album that my dad had picked up as a free giveaway at a gas station when I was young.
Mr Jones was part of a demo that we submitted to record companies, but it was a very difficult track to finish. We didn’t have a clear direction at first. Neither a slow ballad or a fast-paced number; rather, it moves with a rhythm, demanding a real feel to play. The style is soulful – closer to the Stax Records style than country.
Our drummer couldn’t hear the song like the rest of us did – thus T Bone enlisted one of his idols to perform on it.
We considered several production candidates, but when I spoke with the producer, he really understand where the band was at. There was great potential, but I wasn’t satisfied with our sound – we were still learning how to work together. We removed all the synths and guitar effects. The drummer had trouble with the song’s rhythm, so the producer called in a renowned drummer, one of Steve’s favorites, to play on it. It’s a funny story, but it was tough on Steve at the time.
Marty Jones and I performed in groups together prior to Counting Crows. His father, David Serva, had made it in Spain and was back in the Bay Area doing a tour. Attended one of his performances and spent the night with the musicians bar-hopping. Next day, I returned and wrote Mr Jones. The lyrics reflect our experience that night, wishing we were accomplished artists so we could connect with the girls more easily.
I believe, it’s among the finest pieces I’ve ever written. We performed another track on SNL in 1994, the album jumped dozens of positions weekly for over a month. Afterwards, the song turned into a huge hit.
Back in the 80s, the band members were sharing a space in a industrial building in Berkeley. Previously, I performed with another band and was in an side project named Monks of Doom.
One evening, I found Adam with a new demo he’d just done with Bryson. I heard this song titled the now-famous tune. Recorded with a basic drum machine that sounded like a video game or random noise, but his singing were exceptional.
After the producer got involved, it was a complete transformation of Counting Crows. The approach back to basics echoing folk and soul legends.
Adam called me saying, “Hey, man, can you come down and contribute to this album?” When I got there, T Bone had moved us to a recording space in LA’s Encino – previously used by a Jackson 5 member. Inside, we found instruments that Bob Dylan had recently used.
T Bone told me to perform slightly behind the drums. He said, “If you rush ahead of the drums makes you sound like an adolescent hurrying.” With his Texas drawl, and his advice was to imagine relaxing on the console and chewing gum during the performance.
The band was, to an extent, a reaction to the grunge movement. The tragic end of Cobain felt like the final act. At the time, everyone used heroin. The goal was obliteration, not mind expansion. That negativity had gone too far, and the pendulum swung toward something emotional and sincere. Counting Crows blended acoustic and electric with a heavy dose of soulful vibes.
The song never gets old. Sometimes, when performing with the singer, I recall that moment when he played me the demo. It’s insane.
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