Pock? Rop?

The consensus appears to be "crop"...

Tom wrote:A friend of mine was in a bar in new york. That singer dude of this band happened to be sitting next to her. She did not recognize him. He happen to mention that he was in counting crows. She sort of snickered and walked away.

Ha ha! What I think is funny about that is that that was the singer! Imagine if the bass player from Counting Crows had tried to impress somebody in this manner. It makes me smile to think about it.

Their best song is "Hard Candy" in my opinion, because I love 12 string electric guitars.

Their first album, August and Everything After..., is pretty good (expect Mr. Jones).

Go ahead. I dare you. Pick it up and listen to it. Youll see its really not bad at all.

- Chet

Counting Crows are an abysmal band, and Mr. Ralph's Pernice Brothers comparison gives me pause. Perhaps it is time for me to re-think my strong affinity for Joe Pernice's music.

An irritating acquaintance of one of my bandmates wears a Counting Crows t-shirt every time she is in public. Another bandmate and I have inadvertently reduced this poor thing to tears by ridiculing the Beatles. She cried over this! It was too funny to feel bad about. WTF?

Anyhow, Counting CRAP if you ask me!



See, I typed "CRAP" instead of "Crows." In your face, jerks!

chet wrote:Their first album, August and Everything After..., is pretty good (expect Mr. Jones).

Go ahead. I dare you. Pick it up and listen to it. Youll see its really not bad at all.

- Chet

I had a dishwashing job during college. A couple of the cooks listened to the same cd's over and over. This Counting crows album you mentioned was one.

I can undoubtedly assert that it was indeed crappy.

Let's get him.

Goddammit! The universe is cruel.

There is probably no other band on earth, with the possible exception of The Dave Matthews Band, that inspires such pure, visceral, nearly emetic loathing in me as this one. The mere sight of that puffy, dreadlocked, girl-man makes the red mist descend. Whiny, bland, pandering shit music with horrible, sophomoric poetry masquerading as lyrics, all mushed together with the genuineness and soul of an Urban Outfitters catalogue. They are so CRAP, they actually go beyond it into a new category where CRAP is merely a baseline, a comfortable starting point that is, compared with the subsequent levels of this execrable realm, the highest quality. Counting Crows exists somewhere in the most rarefied airs of this category, a place reserved for Yakov Smirnoff, bad puns, and Vanilla Ice.

But what do I do? Thanks to a hiccup in my shitty work laptop, I accidentally click on Not Crap and hit submit before noticing the error. DAMN YOU, FATE! DAMN YOU, INADEQUATE RAM!

I have to go chop off my mouse finger now and flagellate myself with a shorn dreadlock braided with shards of bong glass.

I agree with BER and others.

That one song, she is bearable and sorta effective in its way.

But this band, she is otherwise painful to hear. And guy, he is totally repellent physical presence.

The other day, before this poll is to be even in existence:

We hear "Jackie Wilson Said" on the radio, and my wife, she says "Van Morrison, he make this song, and she is so great. To make one feel great, and even in the throes of pleurisy, to think life is beautiful--such is the greatness of this song. So many other people, they make this same exact song, with same trappings even, and she would be total crap."

Only she has not said this in fake Italian.

The very first band I think of to make this song as total crap is Crapping Craps!

"even in the throes of pleurisy"


That is fucking priceless.