In their 1993 debut, August and Everything After, the Counting Crows attempted to present themselves as a rootsy rock group driven by lush, guitar/piano soundscapes and haunting, thoughtful lyrics. Unfortunately, due to the insanely overplayed “Mr. Jones” and frontman Adam Duritz’s moody standoffishness, America had trouble warming up to them. The band’s subsequent studio releases still showcased a solid sound, but failed to garner the financial and public attention as its predecessor. It was the right sound at the wrong time — the country was determined to be happy and the disposable pop music that was selling so heavily at the time provided a better soundtrack than the doom and gloom of the Crows.
Since then, the country and the Counting Crows have grown up. Although still angst-ridden and emotional, the band is more confident on Hard Candy. It is now the right, not to mention improved, sound at the right time. Gone are the days when Durtiz’s whine and wail would try to fill holes left by a less-than-complete melody. Instead, each track on Hard Candy is beautifully layered and extremely well-crafted with the musical precision you’d expect from an accomplished jazz musician, not the Bay-Area band that have a rep of being rock’s grumpy, lyrical downers.
The slower, moving sound of “Miami” and “If I Could Give All My Love” utilize violins, percussion, and backing vocals more completely than any previous effort by the Crows. They finally sound like a band. Duritz has come a long way vocally too — he almost croons on tracks like “Holiday In Spain,” a slow, pretty lullaby to a hangover. And he’s still at the top of his lyrical game as he sings “I could break like a bird/I could swallow the sea … What brings me down/Is love” in “Goodnight LA,” the album’s track with the “never-good-enough” signature vibe.
What is most striking, and perhaps the most telling sign the band has passed its turbulent adolescence, is its willingness to have fun — or at least be a little less ominous. Faster pop-rock tracks like “Hard Candy” and the spacey, 80s new-wave influenced “New Frontier” are raucous and beg to be blasted out the windows of cars cruising along back roads.
“Lightness” is a term associated with the Counting Crows about as often as “TRL,” but Hard Candy has its fair share. Without sacrificing any integrity in sound or detail, the Crows bounce through the Gershwin-like “Butterfly In Reverse,” which enlisted the help of alt-country wonder boy Ryan Adams in its stream-of-consciousness lyrics. “Why Should You Come When I Call,” a love-song to booty-calls, has listeners uncharacteristically smiling as Duritz sings, “Well I should give a little warning/But I need the things I need/I’m not proud to need a hand/But I just don’t understand/why should you come when I call/ I never say nothing at all.” And even the poppy, first single, and accompanying Abercrombie& Fitch-esque video, is friendly enough to drink Coke to — the band lent it to their first endorsement.
But don’t let all the sugar fool you, Hard Candy is moody as hell. Duritz can still write and whine with heart-wrenching intensity, and although not as raw as August, it more than tugs at the heartstrings
But it’s mood in moderation – emotional expression always teetering on the edge, but never loosing control – that are sure signs of the band’s musical maturity. Throughout the album, Duritz explores memories and the idea of living too much in the past and fearing commitment to the future. But near the end of the album with the vocally impressive “Up All Night,” he beings to take responsibility. After he sings the chorus, “I’ve been up all night/I might sleep all day/get your dreams just right/let them slip away,” the band comes up with the powerhouse coda, singing repeatedly “It’s too late to get high.”
Responsibility, expressing emotions with passion and control, light-hearted tunes, improved quality — all sure signs that the Counting Crows have matured. Hard Candy is their graduation with honors and easily one of the best albums of the summer, and possibly the year.
