When I was living in Los Angeles back in the 90’s, a band burst onto the scene with a different sound. Haunting at times. Melodic. Great lyrics. They soared to the top of the charts with hits like “Mr. Jones” and “Round Here”. Their lead singer dated TV and movie stars. But whereas some bands let fame go to their heads and disappear, never to be heard from again…24 years later, the Counting Crows have persevered and prospered. They’ve done so by staying true to what made them popular in the first place, while at the same time, not being afraid to step out of their comfort zone. Some bands are known for one or two songs, and you spend an entire show waiting for them, barely listening to the songs before them. If they don’t play them, you leave disappointed. But the Counting Crows are one of those rare bands that play a different set for virtually every show. You could see them ten times on the same tour and see a different show every night. And it doesn’t really matter what they play, because if you like their music, you like them all.
The Crows have always had a special place in my heart, first in my 20’s living in California, later as one of the songs in our wedding, and most recently, as a reference point in a crucial moment of my newest novel, The Music Box. 
Needless to say, the opportunity to see them in concert (again), catch their sound check, and meet the band, was a dream come true. As a friend said, when you get to meet your heroes, it can go one of two ways. It can either ruin the mythical imagery you have of them, or it can make it stronger. Happily for me, it was the latter. My wife and I had the opportunity to sit in on the sound check before the concert and it was a surreal experience watching them interact with each other as if they were getting ready for a school concert in high school. It was like having a private concert in your basement–if your basement held 10,000 people but there were only 25 there. Enjoy a snippet from it below…
What I liked best is that these guys seem to genuinely like each other after all these years, and it shows in their performances. Great sound. Great lyrics. Great music. Full of energy and creativity. They played a nice mix of classics (Mr. Jones, Rain King, Omaha, A Long December) along with songs from their new album (Palisades Park, Scarecrow, Dislocation, Earthquake Driver, God of Ocean Tides). Sadly on a personal level, they didn’t play Mrs. Potters Lullaby (the song referenced in The Music Box) in last night’s show at the Mohegan Sun Arena in Connecticut, but they’ve played it when I’ve seen them previously, and I’m sure they will when I see them again–which I most definitely will.
The Music Box is the story of Nick Reynolds, a dying man who has one final wish–to spend his remaining days with his estranged 12 year old son, Josh. As his ex-wife brings their son over to see him, and at her son’s urging, she stops at a seedy pawn shop in an even seedier part of town, so Josh can purchase a music box for his father. What he doesn’t realize is that every song it plays has the ability to transport both father and son back to the time when his father first heard the song. Through their visits, Josh begins to finally see who his father really is, as well as learn some valuable life lessons along the way. Is it the magic of the music box? The sway of the music itself? Or the sheer power of the human mind at work? There have been a number of bands and solo artists over the course of my life that have had an impact on me, but none more so than the Counting Crows. Their songs have always had the ability to take me back in time and were in no small part the inspiration for the story behind the story.
And that’s about the best compliment I can give.
