With a new double album, Saturday Nights and Sunday Mornings, ready to be released in the next few months the Counting Crows have begun to garner some press after a long period of inactivity… Here lead singer Adam Duritz answers a few questions from Blender magazine:
Explain your self-portrait.
It’s me, hanging myself on my own big mouth. There’s a game of Hangman in which I can’t get the U, which is typical of me: I only get to me, I never get to you. It says, WHY CAN’T I EVER JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP?
How do you hang yourself?
I’m honest and forthcoming, and that doesn’t go over well with some people. I’m an earnest guy. If you want irony or sarcasm, it’s not really what you get from me.
What would your exes say about you?
Well, my mother wouldn’t want to read this. But if you asked my girlfriends, they would tell you: “That boy loves to eat pussy.” And I am damn good at it.
Aside from that skill, Adam, will history remember you?
I didn’t want to live and die invisible, and I’m not going to. I will have mattered to people. At 7 years old, I’d stand in front of the mirror with a tennis racket and sing “Can’t Buy Me Love.” It’s a one-in-a-billion life. But I don’t always like being me. There are other parts of this life my 7-year-old self wouldn’t be thrilled with.
Like what?
I’m 43, single and I sit at home a lot. [Laughs.] That’s not what I was supposed to accomplish in being a rock star. I wasn’t supposed to fuck this up quite so badly. And that annoys the shit out of people, the fact that I’ve done such a lousy job of being a rock star. It frustrates, angers and disgusts people. I can’t blame them: It is a dream come true, so what the fuck am I complaining about?
Why are you sitting home so much?
I don’t relate to people very well. It’s an area of my life where I’m immature, in the sense that I haven’t had a lot of experience. I don’t date very much.
Your apartment is pretty immature. It looks like Pee-Wee’s Playhouse.
I’m a whimsical guy. I don’t have any outdoor space, and I wanted some, so I put down AstroTurf and bought beach furniture. And a picnic table.
What are you like when you’re drunk?
I’m occasionally mute: I had a date once where I could not think of anything to say for an hour. I sat there in my mind, going, Say something. It was a party, and I was holding a balloon. I must’ve looked like a 6-year-old.
Are you a bad boy or a good boy?
My parents taught me to be a good person, and my friends taught me to fuck up. I’ve been a rock star. I have not led a G-rated life whatsoever. I’ve had a lot of vices. The tabloids got the story wrong: It was way worse, and way better, than they thought it was.
If we drug-tested you, what would we find?
An absolute fruit salad of medication.
Are you on antidepressants?
I’m not telling.
C’mon. Everyone’s on antidepressants.
They are. I don’t know what they’re all so sad about.
Maybe they’re listening to your music.
I thought my music would fucking bum people out, but they’re always telling me it helps them through times of trouble. And I think, God, that’s so damn depressing.