Counting Crows

Saturday Nights and Sunday Mornings

March 28, 2008

*** 1/2 / ****

By Mr. Marlowe

Released 2008

Counting Crows have always been a crack band with a distinguished lead singer capable of blending Americana, nostalgia, and pop bliss into a delicately entertaining and charismatic classic rock concoction. With an ability to mix style and tempo and Adam Duritz’s sincere poetry holding the numerous instruments together, it’s safe to say Counting Crows’ body of work has warmed the cockles of many a longing lady or broken-hearted fella. And because they are so efficiently precise and excellent in combining Tom Petty rock with Bruce Springsteen-like tales of anguish and desire and a dash of Bob Dylan inspired romantic poetry thrown in for good measure, it’s no wonder they continue to be one of the few early ‘90s MTV “Buzz Bands” still alive and kicking some 17 years after hitting the mainstream.

Counting Crows’ latest release, Saturday Nights and Sunday Mornings, takes the rockingest elements of their four previous studio releases and puts them on one half of the album. It then utilizes their Unplugged style of coffeehouse introspective melancholy for the other, once and for all attempting to neatly separate the band’s lofty intentions, to rock with heart and sing you a teary-eyed lullaby, respectively, with minimal bleed between. It’s an interesting concept, and one the band sort of did before on their double live disc, Across a Wire. This time, however, instead of just offering the concept as a stopgap album, Counting Crows have spent six years simmering on the idea and have brand new songs to offer in the format. The result isn’t revolutionary, or the split as tidy as they might have hoped, but they do pull it off in fine fashion.

Saturday Nights and Sunday Mornings proves unquestionably that the smorgasbord of musical players in Counting Crows can jump styles in a split second, effortlessly concocting catchy hooks and dynamic instrumentation while maintaining a unifying classic sound. The sped up tempos, rolling piano and organ lines, and rollicking guitar sustains and strumming are all welcome additions to Counting Crows’ sound and something they’ve surely wanted to expand on since at least their second album, Recovering the Satellites. With this effort the band manages the up-tempo rock well, pushing the music into fully energetic territory. Adam Duritz ably compliments the sound with his poetic verses and emotional outbursts and while not quite as potent with his clever wordsmithery as long time fans might hope, especially on many of the slow songs, he is still a worthy front man with plenty of tricks up his sleeve. A bit out of his comfort zone for some reason, Duritz isn’t quite as nimble with his affected crooning as the music sometimes demands, but in almost completely abandoning the whining of his earliest efforts (Le Ballet D’or and On a Tuesday Night in Amsterdam Long Ago are the exceptions), when he does hit, he hits big.

You Can’t Count On Me, Come Around, Los Angeles, and 1492 are all excellent tunes. These four tracks alone raise Counting Crows above many of their peers and are on par with the Crows’ best singles. When considered with Duritz’s unique ability to bring thoughtful contemplation to the bittersweet good times classic rock sound, the result is obvious: when Counting Crows are putting out the effort they are stalwarts of the most reliable kind. Sure, there are a handful of songs on this album that are either fairly generic or the aforementioned whine pieces, but the best are good enough to at least make me ignore the album’s lesser moments if not adequately convince me that they fit in as useful segues.

No surprise, Adam Duritz continues to be obsessed with his usual favorite words and expressions. “Freeways,” “Michelangelo,” “parades,” “tight ropes,” “wires,” “Amsterdam,” “Berkley,” and “Boston” all find their way into the mix in one form or another, though “Maria” and “Elizabeth” seem to have finally “faded away.” Aside from the ladies’ conspicuous absence, however, it’s quite apparent little has changed in Duritz’s fantastical fairy tales since 2002’s Hard Candy and before. It isn’t a bad thing necessarily, and the repetitive themes actually found a zenith on Counting Crows’ third effort, This Desert Life. Here, unfortunately the repetition is starting to feel more like re-tread than welcome revisit. The band does its best to make it seem like more has changed in Duritz’s themes than the lyrics lead on, with 12-stringed guitars, harmonica, and the already mentioned accelerated pacing and more electric than usual sound changing the dynamic enough to make it a convincing deception. But when the music turns into typical pop or bare bones acoustic, the warts become apparent. Every song on Saturday Nights and Sunday Mornings isn’t a winner but with plenty that are you could easily find yourself choosing a new favorite with every listen, always the sign of an entertaining album regardless of the low points.

There is room to bash Saturday Nights and Sunday Mornings because you don’t like it or think it’s simpy music, and it kind of is, but the bottom line is Counting Crows have been doing and continue to do classic rock with a tinge of country and a hefty helping of emotion better than almost anyone else. Saturday Nights and Sunday Mornings isn’t the best album the band has ever released but it is a fitting continuation and able summary of everything that has come before. There are great singles here and that always reassuring Counting Crows bittersweet melancholy pervading throughout. As a long time fan following the band from Day One, that’s really all I could have ever hoped for in a Counting Crows effort and in that sense, Saturday Nights and Sunday Mornings delivers beautifully.

Best Songs: You Can’t Count On Me, Come Around, Los Angeles, 1492, On Almost Any Sunday Morning