In Defense Of: Recovering The Satellites, Counting Crows’ Second Album

Rearranging the songs on the follow up to August and Everything After gives listeners a new way to approach the purposefully challenging Sophomore album from Counting Crows

Here’s my version of Recovering The Satellites, a little playlist I’m calling Re-recovering The Satellites. Why not listen along while reading?

August and Everything After destroyed lots of things.

My teenage heart, all of the Counting Crows’ expectations, and Adam Duritz’s life.

From a Chicago Tribune profile shortly after the release of Satellites:

“Adam was really burned out and was going through this sort of nightmare period,” said Crows keyboardist Charles Gillingham of the band’s singer and songwriter, Adam Duritz. “People were coming up to him on the street and telling him how much they hated our band, that it was a fluke that we were so famous, because we were really bad.”

As a result, the dreadlocked, writer-blocked Adam left San Francisco for Los Angeles. Needing a big break from the backlash of his own fame, he worked as a bartender at The Viper Room, a celebrity hangout owned by actor Johnny Depp. There he lost himself among a crowd of stars even more famous than himself, including “Friends” star Jennifer Aniston (they had a brief fling).

“During that time I’d call him up and say, `We ought to get together and write some songs,’ ‘ Charlie said in a recent phone chat. “And Adam would say, `Arrrgh, I’m not in a band right now.’ “

Like many great debut albums, (Astral Weeks, The Chronic, Is This It?) August and Everything After both created a very definitive sound, and became the definition of that sound.

The problem with defining a sound is the same problem lots of definitions face: saying exactly what something is, with the most precision possible, doesn’t leave much room for anything else to be said about it.

As a younger music listener I thought the Counting Crows had said all I needed to hear from them on August and Everything After.

Sure, I remembered the sad piano on “Long December”, but after that it felt like the band fell off the pop culture map.

Whether they fell off the world map or just mine (they still headline festivals to this day), it’s hard to find many rock bands that defined the 90s more than Counting Crows and yet I’m not sure we think of them as important as they were.

With Time, Perspective

I look at artists differently now.

I don’t expect them to create the thing they already created that I really liked and want more of.

I don’t expect them to even know how they did it the first time.

Creating just doesn’t work like that.

On the tour for Satellites the Counting Crows even had shows, sold out, NYC Palace shows, where they did not play “Mr. Jones” because Duritz “couldn’t relate to it anymore”.

Can you imagine writing one of the biggest songs of the decade and not playing it on your next tour?

That’s how adamant Adam (sorry) was to not, “phone it in”.

I’ll repeat that.

A 32 year old, who had only recently released his second major label album, refused to play his most popular song, because he was afraid of phoning it in.

Success must be a trip and a half.

Counting Crows would never be who they were before August and Everything After and the problem with my first listen to Satellites was that I expected them to be.

So, I Rearranged a 24-Year Old Album

Did I take the time to re-order a 24 year old album and then write about why I re-ordered the songs in that particular order?

I did.

Is my remixed playlist a watered down version of Recovering The Satellites?

Maybe.

My goal is not to say, “this album is wrong”, but rather, “if you’re coming to this album from August and Everything After, here is an easier way in”.

In short,

  • skip the first song
  • play the second and third songs
  • skip the fourth
  • play the fifth
  • skip the sixth
  • play seven through eleven
  • skip twelve
  • and end with the last two songs on the album

That’s a bit harsh but let me explain.

“Catapult” & “Angels of the Silences”

Skipping the first song, starting with the second

The opening guitars on “Angels of the Silences” sound like the beginning of an album, they sound like “Murder of One” just faded away, and now Satellites is entering the ballroom, all eyes turn towards her, head up, confident but not confrontational, flowing down the wide stairway, bannister opening its arms to present her, a pearl, now on the final step, she pauses, only for a breath, the first and last time she will ever be truly seen, before stepping off the ledge of anonymity and into an ocean that will swallow her for the rest of her life.

The opening to the second song on the Counting Crows second album sounds open, promising liveliness and potential to come.

Even the Michelangelo reference feels analogous to the Picasso reference on Mr. Jones from the first album, (“If I knew Picasso, I would buy myself a gray guitar and play“).

Old guitarist chicago.jpg
The old guitarist

“Suck my blood, break my nerves” is a little harsh, but as we’ll see, that harshness is the most important difference between this second album of its predecessor.

While “Catapult” starts on earth, and attempts to throw the listener from there, “Angels of the Silences” drops you into outer space, no explanation given.

“Daylight Fading”

Playing the third song, skipping the fourth

Now we’re at track 2 (or track 3 in the original), “Daylight Fading” which follows “Angels of the Silences” just like the original track list.

We still have the angrier, more desperate vocals from Duritz, but without “Catapult” at the beginning the lyrics are lighter, the guitar relaying a more relatable desperation, one less at odds with the rarified problems of new found fame.

Artists should always speak their truth, and the best parts of Satellites walk that fine line between cathartic anger, and desperate wailing. That is to say, they feel very true.

“I’m Not Sleeping”

skipping the fourth song

To “I’m Not Sleeping”‘s credit I experience insomnia listening to it, I feel trapped and frustrated.

I feel like I’m inside the Dissociative Disorder of frontman Adam Duritz’s mind, as he told the Miami New Times,

The disorder makes it seem like the world isn’t very real. It makes it hard to connect with people because I have to force myself to take [the world] seriously, as if it’s real. It’s the sensation of watching a movie in front of my eyes — like someone is projecting a film onto my eyes. It’s very disorienting and causes a lot of disconnection. It’s important to every single song I’ve ever written. It’s the reason for all of them.

One of the most powerful aspects of music is catharsis, to help listeners express their negative emotions in a positive way.

“I’m Not Sleeping” is the pain it expresses, without the ability to transcend it.

The verses are still the beautiful, emotionally expressive reasons I go on Counting Crows binges every 4-6 months.

But the bridge, “1,2,3,4,5,6,7” is the vocal approach that defines, for better or worse, the differences between this sophomore album and honestly, the entirety of the band’s catalogue.

Nowhere on August and Everything After does Adam Duritz’s voice crack.

Here, and on much of Satellites, it bleeds and squeaks, pushing him to a new place that can be rewarding at times, but can also bring the listener out of the song too often, like too much shaky, handheld camera.

“Goodnight Elisabeth”

playing the fifth song

So instead of being at track 5 – with 3 low tempo songs already – we’re at track 3 with every song so far, being up tempo.

“Goodnight Elisabeth” gives us a little of what we missed with the two songs we’ve skipped.

The weeping, legato guitar riff leading into the devastating first lyrics, “I was wasted in the afternoon”, is very “90’s disaffected youth”, while remaining a timeless truth we can all relate to.

“Children in Bloom”

skipping the sixth song

The heaviness of the guitar sounds on Satellites is never relied on as heavily as it is in this song.

Early on, “Children in Bloom” falls into a rhythm that doesn’t drive enough to balance out this heaviness.

Like most of the “skips” on this list, “Children in Bloom” gets better upon multiple listenings, but the first time listener may want to set aside for later.

So what does the album look like so far?

Original Song OrderUpdated Song OrderSong Title
1Catapult
21Angels of the Silences
32Daylight Fading
4I’m Not Sleeping
53Goodnight Elisabeth
6Children in Bloom
74Have You Seen Me Lately?

Which leads us to…

“Have You Seen Me Lately”

playing the seventh song

Instead of our 3rd heavy, tortured track, we’re only now getting to the frustrated, angrier side of Satellites.

Because of that delay, there is more focus to the anger, and the Re-recovering version of the album is able to avoid some of the fog-of-discontent it’s original form falls into.

“Have You Seen Me Lately?” may be the band’s best expression of a tortured relationship with fame.

  • “can’t you seeeee me” at 3:12
  • “give me your greeeeen eyes” at 3:2

On phrases like these, along with the song’s choruses, Duritz seems more content letting the melody speak for itself than trying to intone too much pain through his timbre. Which says a lot about some of his other vocal approaches on Satellites because he’s still stressing his voice on the long vowels here.

“Miller’s Angels”

tentatively playing the eighth song

Of all the songs I left in, none may more closely reflect the ones I left out than “Miller’s Angels”.

There’s no getting away from the fact this is a heavier, sadder album then their debut.

The piano part has the same stutter-step transition between chords as “A Long December” but it slides into the sleepier tendencies of the band.

It’s worth listening through to the end however, if you can get past the raw and repetitive “don’t”s of the first half and the equally repetitious “leave me alone”s of the second half, the song hits something of a second act around 4 minutes in, fading out from there rather beautifully.

“Another Horsedreamer’s Blues”

playing the ninth song

I don’t think we’ve heard an organ like this on a Counting Crows song to this point.

While Duritz starts out with a pop-lullaby “dah dah duh dah dah” he is quickly swept away by big strings with an agenda.

It feels like an almost bluesier, alternate-universe Counting Crows, one that daydreams its afternoons away at the track, throwing down tall boys and dollars on the wrong horses.

“Recovering The Satellites”

playing the tenth song

Ahhh.

The opening rhythm guitar-over-drums just feels like a breath of fresh air after the last couple songs.

Starting with “gonna get back to basics”, the rest of the album’s namesake goes on to prove itself right.

It’s Duritz reckoning with expectations met then raised, (“and all anyone really knows for sure…is you’re gonna come down”), it’s the band riding on the edge of frustration and release, and it could’ve easily kicked the album off.

“Monkey” & “Mercury”

playing the eleventh song, skipping the twelfth

Should anyone sing the word “Monkey”?

Does it ever sound good?

For all my, probably misguided, negativity towards the experience of hearing our primate-cousins race sung by the vocal cords of homo sapiens,”Monkey” is probably the most upbeat song on Recovering The Satellites.

For me, the “hey monkey” part kind of weakens my emotional attachment to the song, but if I can get past that, and I often can, the rest of “Monkey” works.

“Mercury” is the most western-themed song on the album, plodding not unpleasantly along the big-sky plains, not going much of anywhere.

“A Long December”

playing the thirteenth song

Classic.

Everything fans of the band probably expected from the follow up of August.

The song speaks for itself,

  • “The way that light attaches to a girl”.
  • “Smell of hospitals in winter”.
  • “I guess the winter makes you laugh a little slower, makes you talk a little lower, about the things you could not show her”.

“Walkaways”

playing the final song

A sad, soft closing to an album that twists and turns in the night.

It’s that moment you realize the sun is coming up and you are now, officially, coming down.

So what does the album look like when we’re done fucking with it?

Original Song OrderUpdated Song OrderSong Title
1Catapult
21Angels of the Silences
32Daylight Fading
4I’m Not Sleeping
53Goodnight Elisabeth
6Children in Bloom
74Have You Seen Me Lately?
85Miller’s Angels
96Another Horsedreamer’s Blues
107Recovering The Satellites
118Monkey
12Mercury
139A Long December
1410Walkaways

Coda

If I had to sum up the original Recovering The Satellites with a high-minded, over-simplified, borderline dismissive and reductive assessment that tells you nothing about how the music actually sounds, I would say Recovering The Satellites sounds like it’s trying to not be the follow up to August and Everything After.

But that’s largely our fault.

We hold certain albums on pillars, expecting the next output from the band to be:

  • as good as the last album
  • if not better
  • musically re-inventive (just enough to be exciting)
  • without changing too much

That’s an “us” problem that artists shouldn’t have to worry about but, because they’re still humans, inevitably do.

Justin Vernon admitted, to Aaron Rodgers, that his album “i,i” was the first time he’s had fun making music since before For Emma, Forever Ago changed his life and launched his musical career over a decade ago.

I will also never miss an opportunity, and probably go out of my way, to include this interview in any article I write.

The album that allowed Justin Vernon to have a career doing the thing he loved most, changed his life to the point where he could not do the thing he loved most with love and energy.

We’re lucky to have the Counting Crows, and Bon Iver, for that matter. We’re lucky Recovering The Satellites came out at all.

On the exceptional “Mrs. Potter’s Lullaby” from the band’s next album, Duritz would sing, “I am an idiot, walking a tight rope of fortune and fame”.

It’s a line that would sum up the time between August and Everything After and Recovering The Satellites if the band had those extra years to process.

It’s a line that shows some distance from the pain.

It’s good to see that Duritz finds some peace in his writing by the band’s third album, but on Recovering the Satellites it is clear he is still very much at war.