“Little angels hang above my head and read me like an open book.”
I can’t hear the Counting Crows without having my mind drift back to a period of young love. It was time of good waves and beaches, great but awkward sex, and, inevitably, dreams bursting from the weight of unrealistic hope. For an entire two years, my lover’s favourite song was ‘Mr. Jones’. She never got tired of it and I never tired of watching her dance to it.
When she was gone, I would sometimes torture myself by holding something of hers so as to conjure images of her. Nostalgia stabs and smiles. That duality of beauty and pain was affirmed by my regular playing of the ‘Mr. Jones’ nemesis, ‘Round Here’.
What i’m saying is that the Counting Crows are, or have been, a soundtrack to reality. Mine and many others.
“Step out the front door like a ghost
into the fog where no one notices
the contrast of white on white
And in between the moon and you,
the angels get a better view
of the crumbling difference between wrong and right.”
From the Indie rocker, ‘Angels of the Silences’, to the poppier ‘American Girls’, the deep lyrics of Adam Duritz play a huge part. A decade of hits are tied together by this lost poet’s search for love and meaning, and the expression thereof. Films About Ghosts is apt title for a treasure chest of memories expressed through melody.