Our first four records were primarily produced in houses situated in the hills above Los Angeles. Their debut major label album signified a major milestone for the band, as it was their first release on a major label. Each member received an advance of $3,000; I used mine to buy a classic red convertible and traveled to LA.
Every morning, my routine included by playing Pickin’ Up the Pieces by Poco, which sounds like the Beatles venturing into country music. Additionally, I was into a jazz record that my dad had picked up as a complimentary item at a Texaco station when I was young.
Mr Jones was included on a demo that we sent to record companies, but it proved a challenging track to finish. We didn’t have a clear direction at first. It’s not a leisurely tune nor a straight ahead rock song; rather, it moves with a rhythm, requiring a deep understanding to play. It’s soul music – more akin to the Memphis soul sound than folk.
Our drummer couldn’t hear the song like the others did – thus the producer brought in one of his idols to perform on it.
We considered a few producers, but when I discussed things with the producer, he seemed to get where the band was headed. There was great potential, but I wasn’t satisfied with our sound – we were still learning how to be a band. Eliminated all the synths and effects pedals. Our drummer Steve Bowman couldn’t sync with the song’s rhythm, so T Bone called in a renowned drummer, one of Steve’s heroes, to play on it. Looking back, it’s amusing, but it was hard on Steve back then.
Marty Jones and I performed in groups together before Counting Crows. His father, David Serva, had made it in Spain and was returning in the San Francisco area performing a tour. Attended one of his shows and hung out with the musicians visiting bars. Next day, I returned and wrote Mr Jones. The lyrics reflect our experience that night, dreaming we were accomplished artists so we could talk to the women more confidently.
In my view, it’s one of the best songs I’ve composed. We performed Round Here on Saturday Night Live in 1994, the album climbed 40 spots weekly for over a month. Following that, the song became a huge hit.
In the late 1980s, Adam, David Bryson, and I were living together in a warehouse complex in Berkeley. I had been playing with Camper Van Beethoven and was in 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 track called the now-famous tune. It was done with a Dr Rhythm pocket drum machine that resembled a arcade sound or random noise, but his singing were on another level.
After the producer got involved, it felt like a complete transformation of Counting Crows. They shifted back to basics influenced by Bob Dylan, Van Morrison, and the Band.
Adam called me saying, “Hey, man, can you come down and contribute to this album?” When I got there, the producer had moved us to a studio in Encino, Los Angeles – formerly used by a Jackson 5 member. Inside, we found instruments that Bob Dylan had just recorded on.
T Bone told me to play my guitar behind the tempo the drums. His words were, “If you rush before the drums comes off like an teenager hurrying.” With his Texas drawl, and his advice was to visualize putting your feet up on the console and staying casual during the performance.
The band was, to an extent, a reaction to grunge. The tragic end of Cobain felt like the final act. Back then, many used heroin. The goal was self-destruction, not enlightenment. The nihilism had gone too far, and the trend shifted toward something emotional and heartfelt. Their music combined folk and rock with a strong influence of Van Morrison soul.
The song remains timeless. Sometimes, when performing with Adam, I remember that time when he first shared the early version. It’s insane.