The Making of Mr Jones: The Way Counting Crows Crafted Their Iconic Anthem

Adam Duritz Shares the Early Days

The initial albums were primarily produced in homes located in the foothills above Los Angeles. August and Everything After signified a significant milestone for the group, as it was their first release on a large record company. We each got an advance of $3,000; I used mine to purchase a 1971 cherry red VW Karmann Ghia and traveled to LA.

Each day, I would start by playing Pickin’ Up the Pieces by Poco, which sounds like the Beatles venturing into American folk. Also, I was into a Benny Goodman album that my dad had picked up as a complimentary item at a Texaco station during my childhood.

Mr Jones was part of a demo tape that we sent to record companies, but it was a challenging track to complete. It lacked a clear direction at first. It’s not a leisurely tune nor a fast-paced number; rather, it moves with a rhythm, requiring a deep understanding to perform. The style is soulful – closer to the Memphis soul style than folk.

Our drummer couldn’t hear the song as the others did – so T Bone brought in one of his idols to perform on it.

We looked at several production candidates, but when I discussed things with T Bone Burnett, he really understand where the band was at. There was a lot of promise, but I didn’t like with our sound – we hadn’t learned how to work together. We removed all the synthesizers and guitar effects. Our drummer Steve Bowman had trouble with the song’s rhythm, so the producer invited Denny Fongheiser, one of Steve’s favorites, to lay down the drums. It’s a funny story, but it was tough on Steve at the time.

Marty Jones and I had played in groups together before Counting Crows. Marty’s dad, a flamenco musician, had made it in Spain and was returning in the San Francisco area doing a tour. Attended one of his shows and spent the night with the flamenco troupe visiting bars. Next day, I went home and wrote the song. The lyrics reflect me and Marty that night, dreaming we were accomplished artists so we could connect with the women more easily.

In my view, it’s among the finest songs I’ve composed. After playing another track on SNL in 1994, the record jumped dozens of positions weekly for over a month. Following that, Mr Jones turned into a major success.

David Immerglück Shares 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 was in an side project named Monks of Doom.

One evening, I found Adam with a fresh recording he’d created with Bryson. I heard this song titled Mr Jones. Recorded with a Dr Rhythm pocket drum machine that resembled a video game or popcorn popping, but his singing were on another level.

Once T Bone got involved, it felt like a total reinvention of Counting Crows. They shifted toward roots echoing Bob Dylan, Van Morrison, and the Band.

I got a call from Adam asking, “Listen, can you join us and play on this record?” By the time I got there, T Bone had moved us to a studio in Encino, Los Angeles – formerly used by Tito Jackson. There were instruments that Bob Dylan had recently used.

T Bone told me to perform behind the tempo the beat. He said, “Playing too fast ahead of the drums makes you sound like an teenager hurrying.” He has a southern accent, and his advice was to visualize relaxing on the mixing board and chewing gum while playing.

The band was, to an extent, a reaction to the grunge movement. Kurt Cobain’s death felt like the final act. Back then, many were on heroin. The aim was obliteration, not enlightenment. The nihilism had gone too far, and the trend shifted toward something emotional and heartfelt. Counting Crows blended folk and rock with a heavy dose of Van Morrison soul.

Mr Jones remains timeless. On stage, when I am rocking out with the singer, I recall that time when he played me the early version. It’s insane.