There was a lot of Counting Crows for me in 1993. I was very into the August and Everything After CD.
My sister and I went on to see Counting Crows at the Greek Theatre in Hollywood. It’s a wonderful venue and that night was made by turns magical by a downpour and annoying thankss to a woman in front of us who woulddn’t suck it up.
This proto-Karen insisted not only on opening her large umbrella but dancing side to side with it. The only stage-blockers you can’t get mad at are tall people because they can’t help it, though you’re still secretly, irrationally annoyed.
Nonetheless, it was a memorable concert.
I can boast I’ve seen Roxy Music, James Brown and Richard Marx/Wilson Phillips there. The Greek is a beautiful, open-air piece of Los Angeles architecture from the 1930s, back when people cared enough to make things look pretty and exotic.
If I could pick my dream home, it would be one of the red-roofed Spanish-style mansions in Griffith Park on the road to the Greek. This is because I attended a party with my parents as a kid, you know, one of those acquaintances parents have that you’ve never heard of.
Long story short, there was a courtyard-style backyard with an enormous tree that, come night, was illuminated with fairy lights. There was also the echoing sound of live music bouncing off the courtyard’s stones. Come to find out, the acquaintances lived close enough to the Greek Theater to hear all the concerts for free. Now that is frickin’ living. I’d take this 1920s number with the turret in a heartbeat.
I digress. Let’s move away from Los Angeles to Middle America, more specifically “Omaha.” I love the song equally as well as another album standout, “Rain King.”
Sometimes the cool girl in me wants to disavow Counting Crows as being an adult contemporary blip in my goth/punk/indie music career.
But no. The album holds up. Adam Duritz has a good voice and his lyrics are clever and poetic. Take a listen and you’ll see.
–Sarah Torribio
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