The Disconnected Ringleader: Adam Duritz & Counting Crows

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THE FLUSHING SOUND was immediately followed by an apology: "Sorry, OK, totally busted. Had to go in and pee." But the bathroom break wasn't enough to stop Adam Duritz's winding discussion about how his band, Counting Crows, came to leave Geffen Records this past May, after 18 years.

Duritz is a talker, a vivid raconteur whose mind burns with passion for music, movies and sports. He's always been open with his fans, offering long blog posts on CountingCrows.com about the band as well as breathless essays about the films he loves, the musicians he adores, and the actors, athletes and artists who populate his life and imagination. (Twitter is his current preferred medium.)

But talking is also what gets Duritz online heat from those who mistake his openness as an invitation to personally and ferociously attack him and his group. The slams Duritz endures online are cringe-inducing, with bombs being lobbed at his music, his love handles, his love life, his mental state and his dreadlocks (which, yes, are fake).

What these keyboard commandos are missing, however, is one of the finest American rock bands of the past 20 years. As a group, Counting Crows interpret Duritz's songs with the intuition of a jazz ensemble, and his emotional voice is still a rich amalgam of Van Morrison and too many late nights. Plus, the way Duritz, 45, can still lose himself in performances is inspirational (if yet another source of anger among the haters).

"Whatever I'm going through in life is erased when I'm on stage," said Duritz, who last year came clean about a lifelong mental condition that can cause him to become disconnected from reality. "I often don't want to go play because the thought of going on stage and wrenching my guts out for people is horrific. But when I hit the stage, I'm just gone; we're just doing it. The world disappears and it's just these songs."

But with the dissociative disorder, Duritz has a harder time connecting with people when he's off stage, which is perhaps part of the reason he talks so much about his friends and interests publicly; it's like a therapeutic exercise for someone who doesn't necessarily feel what he's saying even though he means every word of it.

"I value my friends a great deal, and I know it intellectually," Duritz said. "But it's often just not there in my head and I fall out of touch. ... [But] I was raised really well and ... I know how to be a good person even when I forget how to be an actual person. I know the right thing to do, so I'll do it, even if I don't always know why I'm supposed to do it or feel why."

"I do want to be connected playing music, but it's not where I want my [only] connection to be," Durtiz said, saying he's looking forward to being off the road for a while and he says he's ready for a real romantic relationship to last, especially now that he's feeling better due to the right chemical cocktail (the previous ones caused him to gain weight, among other side effects).

Duritz will be back home in New York City soon since Counting Crows are at the tail end of their summer tour, which was dubbed the "Traveling Circus and Medicine Show" and is more like a giant hootenanny featuring reggaefied folkie Michael Franti & Spearhead and roots rockers Augustana.

"At this show, it starts with everyone on stage and you end up getting three or four hours of music, depending on the venue," Duritz said. "Everyone's on there for at least two songs, and there are still 10 or 12 people on stage for the next songs. And the first band to play its own set is us, and even then people are guesting. ... You've never seen anything like this. It's completely unique."

The same is true of Adam Duritz.

During a breathless 55-minute conversation, Express spoke with Durtiz about being a newly independent band, the impetus for the "Traveling Circus," his debilitating dissociative disorder and Counting Crows' amazing appearance last year on "The Howard Stern Show."

» EXPRESS: What was the inspiration for the "Traveling Circus and Medicine Show" format.
» DURITZ: Pushing for this tour was such a a brutal bitch to get through. Nobody wanted us to do it. I knew it was historically innovative. I used [Bob Dylan's] "Rolling Thunder Revue" and [Joe Cocker's] "Mad Dogs and Englishmen" to justify it, but those are still about one guy with some people playing songs. It's not three bands shuttling on and off; it wasn't like this. You've never seen anything like this. It's completely unique. We're getting people to come out at 7 o'clock.

At the end of last summer, two of our guys' wives were having babies, so they had to leave early, two and half weeks before the end of the tour. The guys from Augustana were on the tour and they were helping out with a lot of the songs, but fans misinterpret things and I thought they might think they were getting less of a concert than other audiences got. So, I thought, let's turn this on its ear. Let's not make this about people replacing people who are gone; let's make this be about two bands collaborating. Come play on everything. Let's reinvent the songs. Between all of us, we have 10 guys who can sing. Let's do songs we haven't played in a while because we can play them with all the harmonies. "Why Should You Come When I Call" has seven-part harmonies on it, and it's still hard to sing them all powerful, and I have to play piano because it's piano and organ on that song, and that's tough, so we don't do it. But on this tour we have 18 people who can sing, so we do it every night and it's one of the best songs of the concert.

Anyway, we did these shows with everybody, and a couple things happened. One, I could remember everything; I was present. ... [Usually] I don't even remember [concerts] afterward because I'm so gone in it. ... Two, I was able to play really emotional, gut-wrenching Counting Crows shows and also have time on stage where I just lean my head back and sing harmonies with my friends. And that felt fantastic, and it felt like a huge weight was lifted. It's not that I disliked playing before, but it was hard to say I liked it because I never remembered it. It was just a deeply. moving, emotional experience in concert before, which there's nothing wrong with that — that's why we're such a good band live. But these concerts, I get to have it all. We do that but I also get to stand around and have fun. I get to play Flavor Flav or Ranking Roger to Michael Franti's Dave Wakeling.

At the end of [last] summer, I thought is all I want to do now. I don't want to play Counting Crows shows anymore; I want to make a circus.

» EXPRESS: There was some drama surrounding the release of "Saturday Nights & Sunday Mornings" last year. First, you wanted to give away digital singles to represent the two sides of the album — acoustic and electric — but the label balked at that for a while. And the album was delayed from 2007 to spring 2008. And then you split from Geffen in May 2009. What happened?
» DURITZ: First, we just pulled the record. We got a lot of shit because people said the label pulled the record because it wasn't good enough, which is ludicrous. You think any label losing the amount of money they lose is going to pull a Counting Crows record? Those guys need money, more than anything else in this world. ... We pulled it for six months, and I went to L.A. and every single member of Geffen told me why [giving away the digital single] couldn't be done. Finally, Jimmy Iovine walked in an listened to our reasoning and said, "Why didn't you just ask me? You have a whole plan behind it, you've been here 15 years, you've always worked your asses off, you're smart guys — if anyone deserves a shot, it's you."

As soon as Jimmy left the room, everybody jumped up and wanted to get involved. The head of marketing said, "You know, you may have changed the record business. We're all dying to do this; no one ever allows us to do anything. If this works and they let us do this some more, we can go back to doing our job, which is being creative." There's a millions ways to market a record but they're not allowed to do them. ... They all worked on our record that way. .... After that, they kind of got clamped down on and it was back to [working] radio and the record stores.

After it all, we went to the label and said, "Look, it's been a long relationship, we've been really good together, and we've been together a long time., .. But you have your path and we have ours. We just want to do things different ways." ... It was very amicable. They were really cool about it and said, "OK."

» EXPRESS: Counting Crows' appearance last year on "The Howard Stern Show" was both bizarre and amazing. Adam, you sounded manic and nutty, and even wore a bunny suit — then that version of "Round Here" you guys did was one of the most emotional songs I've ever heard. What was going on that day?
» DURITZ: I've been friends with Howard for years. We used to always work out together. Him, me, our friend Marco [Battaglia] — who's an NFL tight end — and Pat would meet for workouts in the morning. I don't get to those workouts anymore because I'm gone a lot. ... I've known Howard since before "Private Parts" came out, when he was getting in shape for that. I'm never up at that time of day, so, to me, Howard is just this sweet, funny guy who I fucking love and got all the time in the world for.

So, I had never really seen the show, and other than seeing "Private Parts" I had no concept of what Howard like was on the air until the first time I did the show years ago. So, I'm sitting in the green room with James Van Der Beek ... and James goes in there and Howard tears him a new asshole. ... I walked in there, and I thought it would be different for me because we're friends. ... So, we start off talking and all the sudden I'm getting it from all sides — mostly from Robin, who I've also known for a while. I'm getting attacked and they're going after me — not vicious — but you have to have a quick mind.

They take a break so the band can set up and Howard goes to the bathroom, and I turn to Robin: "What the fuck's your problem?" She gets this look on her face and looks around, and comes up to me and goes, "He makes me do it when his friends are here." I said, "Oh, I get it." So, I went after him when he came back and he came after me, and the nice thing is I know it will never turn truly vicious. But he's not giving me a break. ... He'll never break me, but that doesn't he won't make me look stupid. You have to be on your toes. So, I kind of like doing the show.

He's one the smartest people I've ever met in my life; you've got to be on it. I think we've been pretty [evenly matched] all the times we've done the show. It's been a draw, leaning a little bit toward him winning.

[That appearance last year] was totally planned. I was in my normal clothes during soundcheck, and then there was a commercial break and I said, "Howard, I have to pee." And instead of peeing I ran to the dressing room and put on the bunny outfit. ... Just as we were coming on, Howard said, "All right, we're here with the Counting ..." and I walked in wearing the bunny suit. Howard stopped in his tracks; he was like, "What are you doing in a bunny suit?" And I was like, "Nobody takes me seriously. I felt like I had to do something about that." I had him off balance the whole time.

Then we did "Round Here" — he's going to kill me when he reads this — and I just close my eyes when we perform — I'm gone — and I think it was one of the best "Round Here"s we ever played, too. I don't remember a thing about it, but it couldn't have been more gut wrenching and emotional. ... I really want to see the video just to see Howard's face while I was doing it — or just see what I looked like doing this incredibly impassioned "Round Here" in a fucking bunny outfit.

It's my Halloween costume; Howard's seen it a million times before. I'm a bunny for Halloween every year. But he just wasn't expecting it that time of day, right then. He finally got me to take it off, and he was trying to ask me serious questions about mental illness because he's my friend ... but I wouldn't answer seriously and I kept talking about nonsensical stuff. Finally, midway through, he said, "C'mon, we've been friends for years, you have a lot of stuff going on in your life, I really want to talk about it today." So, I took the bunny suit off and said, "OK." And he goes, "You have banged so many famous actresses.,..." And I just said, "Never heard of her." He went right after me, and he almost got me. ... But this is the one time I may have clearly won — but by saying this, the next time I will get buried.

» EXPRESS: Your mental problems were finally accurately diagnosed, and some have called it "Hallucinogen Persisting Perception Disorder." Can you talk a bit more about what you go through?
» DURITZ: I value my friends a great deal, and I know it intellectually. But it's often just not there in my head and I fall out of touch. ... But it's better now. ... "Freeloaders" [the forthcoming movie Duritz produced with the Broken Lizard comedy troupe] is about tons of people living at my house, and one of the ways I've gotten around [my problem] is let everyone live in my house so I see them every day. ... Because I won't remember to go do things with anyone, and I never want to go out. ... Instead, I make them all stay at my house.

That's why touring's so hard — it's easy, in a way, because I'm so regimented because I know where I have to go everyday and I'm forced to be around a certain group of people. But I lose those connections with all the those people and it makes it really tough. I come home and I'm very disconnected from my friends. But I would do anything for them and they would do anything for me. We're really close that way. I don't always remember or feel the stuff, but I know what a good friend does.

I was raised really well and I know what good people do and I'll do it. I know how to be a good person even when I forget how to be an actual person, I still remember that. I know the rules. I know the right thing to do, so I'll do it, even if I don't always know why I'm supposed to do it or feel why. I know the right things and the wrong thing. I'm the most loyal or trustworthy friend you'll ever meet. Or generous — because I don't always feel things, but I have enough things in life, and it's better top things for other people and be generous because I can.

It's not like it's all day you don't exist [emotionally]; it's just kind of horrible because sometimes you don't. Because real relationships with a girl, you're not allowed to go off and on; you need a constancy. I've never cheated on anyone in my life. ... But a constancy, I've let a lot of people down that way I had to just leave. I've written a lot of sad songs, but I'm not depressed all day either. But it all piles on, and when I listen back on it, there's parts of my life I'm disappointed in.

I've been doing this improvisation in "Rain King" where I'm playing the music to "Rain King" but singing some of the lyrics to "Goodnight, Elizabeth," which is about failing someone and losing them because you're gone so much. It's about the first girl I ever lost after the band became big. I changed the first verse: "I wasted in the afternoon / Waiting on a train / I woke up in pieces / And Elizabeth had disappeared again / You have to measure all the loves you lose / Against these songs you name / Because this is really just a song about the rain."

The point I was trying to make is you can make a big mistake trading your life ... for your art. And while I've been happy to have my art, that's a bad habit to get into. I don't want to ever accept that it's enough to have written some songs. There's still a life to be had out there. And I don't want to mistake love for weather and excuse it. In the end, "Rain King" really is a song about the rain. It's not as important as the fact that my sister had children. Sondheim says there's only two things you can leave behind in life: children and art. ... I'd like to get them both, not just one. I've got a lot of one.

I'd like to have some time at home. I'm healthy enough to have a relationship and get a life together.

» Merriweather Post Pavilion, 10475 Little Patuxent Parkway, Columbia; Sat., Sept. 5, 6 p.m., $35-$75; 202-397-7328.

Photos by Danny Clinch