One For Sorrow

As we all search for the next big thing, the vital new band to make the hairs on the back of one’s neck stand on end, there needs to be something on the shelf for people who don’t really like music to buy. The beauty of music of course is its variety and its total subjectivity - what is a review other than an opinion?

Counting Crows have sold millions upon millions of records worldwide, and I would hope that the people who bought those records would listen open-mindedly to Saturday Nights and Sunday Mornings, judging it purely on its merits. Regardless of this, Counting Crows will for me always reside in the category mentioned above - music for people who don’t really like music.

Music for people who own fewer than 50 albums, who read The Independent, who shop solely in Gap, and who host dinner parties more than once a year. Harsh? Maybe. I don’t mean to devalue these people’s opinions, which are equally as valid as mine. To my mind though, this is vacuous, coffee table music.

This is by no means a bad album. Clearly, this is a band with a great ability to write middle of the road, country tinged soft rock songs, and this album will maintain their position as royalty within their field.

This time around, CC have attempted to part the rock from the folky ballads, effectively splitting the album into two parts, as the title suggests. But they miss a vital point in doing so - they don’t rock hard enough, and they don’t write delicate enough folk ballads. The split is not a split at all. This is a collection of 14 plodding soft rock songs, which will thrill millions worldwide, and whilst not achieving the desired division between the band’s supposed harder and softer sides, will provide a soundtrack to every US teen soap opera/movie for the next year.

Counting Crows have a purpose, and they fulfill that purpose admirably. If you like them, my opinion will no doubt mean nothing to you. And that’s why music is such an incredible thing.