During their 19-song set at Baycare Sound last Sunday, Counting Crows played five from a new album, Butter Miracle, The Complete Sweets!. That seems about right. One could even argue that it’s a bit bold for a band that’s been around more than three decades and has a massive library of songs that fans are dying to hear.
But it was one of those new songs that gave the Crows’ 100-minute set a jolt. About a half-hour in, the band played “With Love, From A-Z,” a swaggering mid-tempo rocker set to a shuffle groove. From where I was sitting (in a seat, but pretty far back), the tune seemed to light a spark in lead singer Adam Duritz. He fully committed to the lyrics, a kind of love letter to America, but without the proud-to-be-an-American jingoism. Also, “A-Z” is more suited to the 60-year-old Duritz’s voice, which has deepened over the years and lost some of its upper range.
It wasn’t as if the opening six-song sequence was dreary. Kicking off with “Spaceman in Tulsa,” another new one, the Crows seemed to be finding their footing, and perhaps adjusting to what must’ve been suffocating heat on stage. With no backdrop, the setting sun shone directly behind the stage and into the eyes of concertgoers. Maybe it’s not so easy for a lead singer to rock out with the sun burning a hole in his back. Of note was Duritz’s curious style choice, at least to Floridians. He wore a jacket over a T-shirt for the entirety of the show.
After “A-Z” came the simmering “Miami,” which rose to a stirring crescendo, then the contemplative ballad, “Colorblind.” The concert had found its groove. Duritz then announced the Crows would play a “few acoustic songs,” and I admit to a moment of worry about the air going out of the balloon. But the folky ballad “When I Dream of Michelangelo” and a medium-tempo cover of Grateful Dead’s “Friend of the Devil” sustained the momentum. Up next was “Round Here,” an audience favorite. The Crows kept this rendition tight, and Duritz threw himself into the vocals, eschewing much of the talk-sing that he includes in some live versions. The crowd took over for the lyrics “we stay up very, very, very, very late.”
The six other Crows were in fine form, as you’d expect from a seasoned unit. Except for guitar solos by Dan Vickrey and a few keyboard spotlights for Charlie Gillingham, the players were satisfied to stand in the shadows (metaphorically speaking) and provide well-oiled support for the frontman.
The sound mix was clean, and Duritz sang his lyrics in a manner so that I could follow most of them (many of which I already knew), a rarity at bigger shows. This added a welcome element of storytelling to the performance.
In early days on stage, Duritz exhibited a kind of tortured energy mixed with periods of childlike joy and pensive introspection. Now a sextegenarian—the dreadlocks long-ago shorn—Duritz has more of an avuncular presence, and seems to accept his limitations, backing off high notes as needed, and including plenty of low-key numbers to save his voice for crowd-pleasing zeniths. And he kept his between-song patter relatively concise, another plus.
As the crowd filed out to Sly & the Family Stone’s “Hot Fun in the Summertime,” Duritz addressed the crowd a final time. “One more thing,” he effused. “We’ll definitely be back.”
Believe it.
