1993, what a year for music. Back when albums still mattered, this was a pinnacle year with debuts from Tool, The Cranberries, Digable Planets, Radiohead, and The Verve. There were breakthrough sophomore efforts from Mazzy Star, Pearl Jam, Lenny Kravitz, Nirvana, Afghan Whigs, and Smashing Pumpkins, just to name a few.
I was in college and working at a record store when another band showed up in our weekly promo box from the record labels. Before I could crack the seal on the CD, people came in left and right looking for “Mr. Jones.” I looked at my record store colleagues, and we all had the same look on our faces; here we go again. What a time to be alive.
It was a mad rush to keep the band’s debut August and Everything After in stock for the next few months. We hadn’t seen anything like this before this. Hootie and the Blowfish, Coldplay, and Dave Matthews would hit the following year, but this one was different. There wasn’t a particular demographic that wanted this song; it was fucking everybody. It was universally appealing, yet it had substance. It was undeniably a hat tip to Van Morrison and REM, but it wasn’t fake nor a copy. This was going to be the year of the Counting Crows, and there was nothing that would stop it.
I saw the band live on that tour. To be honest, I was there for openers Sam Phillips and Buffalo Tom more than the headliner. Still, I remember staying until the end and thinking Counting Crows were pretty solid. Sam Phillips was breathtaking. Both artists shared the exquisite production skills of legend T Bone Burnett, and one was married to him.
Seven million albums and two world tours later, it was time for a follow-up. I don’t think anyone really knew what to expect. The sophomore jinx was real and quite common after success at this level. I remember working at the same record store and getting a promotional copy of Recovering the Satellites the week it was slated to come out. I threw it on the CD player at the store and was blown away. Where did the jangly pop sounds of “Mr. Jones” go?
This was legit. This record had depth and substance and wasn’t manufactured by the label to be a hit machine. It was a slow burn, but the songs were next level for the Crows. Make no doubt; this is a full-blown Americana record with massive production. “Catapult” makes for the perfect opener, acting as an interlude from the previous record.
Duritz has a knack for writing a pre-chorus that’s actually stronger than the chorus. It makes for interesting song structures and sets them apart. “Angels of the Silences” picks it up quickly with its crunching guitars and double-time pace. Then we get a glimpse of “August with Daylight Fading” before getting back to some of the decade’s most remarkable songwriting and storytelling.
I lost track of the band after this one—it was almost like I was afraid that they couldn’t make a record this great again, so I just wanted to remember them at this moment. I actually do that with quite a few bands. Eventually, I go back and rediscover the albums I missed. Still, for some reason, I never got back around this one.
Fast forward to 2022 at the legendary Hammersmith Ballroom (now called the Eventim Apollo), and Duritz’s signature dreadlocks are gone. Still, the heart and soul of the band are alive and well—thriving. Original members Adam Duritz, David Bryson, and Charles Gillingham are joined by Dan Vickrey and David Immerglück on guitar, with Millard Powers and Jim Bogios holding down the rhythm section on bass and drums respectively. This is the Counting Crows firing on all cylinders with some of the best musicians on the planet.
The setlist is different each night. You never really know what you will get, but they consistently deliver the hits. I was hoping they would lean into Recovering the Satellites a bit more as we only got two songs: “Recovering the Satellites” and “A Long December.” There were four classics from the debut: “Mr Jones,” “Omaha,” “Rain King,” and “Round Here.” I was surprised to see them play all four songs from last year’s “Butter Miracle” EP. Most bands opt to play a maximum of two new songs. Still, the Crows have something special, delivering their classic sound across four brilliant songs.
It was a fantastic show from start to finish, but the one thing that really stood out was Duritz. He’s been quite vocal in the press about his mental health struggles, but what I saw that night was not only one of the finest singers of my generation but a guy who was confident, happy, and looking to have the time of his life playing music with his friends. That made for one hell of an epic show. You could feel this one.
