The Story of Mr Jones: How Counting Crows Produced Their Iconic Anthem
The Lead Singer Remembers the Early Days
Our first four records were primarily produced in homes situated in the hills above Los Angeles. August and Everything After signified a significant milestone for the group, as it was their first release on a major label. Each member got an advance of $3,000; with it, I to buy a 1971 cherry red VW Karmann Ghia and traveled to LA.
Every morning, I would start by playing Pickin’ Up the Pieces by Poco, which sounds like the Beatles venturing into American folk. Also, I frequently played a Benny Goodman album that my dad had acquired as a free giveaway at a gas station during my childhood.
Mr Jones was part of a demo that we sent to record companies, but it was a very difficult song to complete. We didn’t have a clear direction at first. Neither a slow ballad or a straight ahead rock song; instead, it gallops along, demanding a deep understanding to perform. The style is soulful – more akin to the Stax Records sound than folk.
The band’s drummer struggled to grasp the track as the others did – so the producer brought in one of his idols to play it.
We considered several production candidates, but when I spoke 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 sound – we hadn’t learned how to be a band. We removed all the synths and guitar effects. The drummer couldn’t sync with the tempo, so the producer called in Denny Fongheiser, one of Steve’s heroes, to lay down the drums. Looking back, it’s amusing, but it was tough on Steve at the time.
Marty Jones and I performed in groups together before Counting Crows. Marty’s dad, a flamenco musician, had succeeded in Spain and was back in the Bay Area performing a tour. Attended one of his performances and spent the night with the musicians visiting bars. Next day, I returned and wrote the song. The lyrics reflect our experience that night, wishing we were accomplished artists so we could talk to the girls more easily.
In my view, it’s among the finest songs I’ve ever written. After playing Round Here on Saturday Night Live in 1994, the record jumped 40 spots weekly for five or six weeks. Afterwards, the song turned into a huge hit.
The Multi-Instrumentalist Recalls His Perspective
In the late 1980s, the band members were sharing a space in a industrial building in Berkeley. I had been playing with another band and was in an side project called Monks of Doom.
Returning home one night, I found Adam with a new demo he’d created with the guitarist. He played me this track called Mr Jones. Recorded with a Dr Rhythm pocket drum machine that sounded like a arcade sound or popcorn popping, but his vocals were on another level.
Once T Bone got involved, it felt like a complete transformation of Counting Crows. The approach toward roots echoing Bob Dylan, Van Morrison, and the Band.
Adam called me saying, “Hey, man, can you join us and contribute to this album?” By the time I arrived, the producer had moved us to a studio in LA’s Encino – formerly used by a Jackson 5 member. There were instruments that Dylan had recently used.
He instructed me to perform behind the tempo the drums. He said, “Playing too fast before the drums comes off like an adolescent hurrying.” With his southern accent, and his advice was to imagine relaxing on the mixing board and chewing gum during the performance.
The band was, to an extent, a response to grunge. The tragic end of Cobain seemed the final act. At the time, everyone used heroin. The aim was self-destruction, not mind expansion. The nihilism had gone too far, and the pendulum swung toward something emotional and sincere. Their music blended acoustic and electric with a heavy dose of Van Morrison soul.
Mr Jones never gets old. Sometimes, when performing with the singer, I remember that moment when he first shared the early version. It’s insane.