It starts with that piano. A lonely, descending line that feels like a cold windowpane against your forehead. By the time Adam Duritz lets out that first "Yeah," you’re already there. You’re in the middle of a winter that feels like it might never end, looking back at a year that probably should have gone better. Counting Crows A Long December isn't just a hit song from the mid-90s; it’s basically a secular hymn for anyone who has ever felt stuck in the waiting room of their own life.
It's a weirdly optimistic song about being totally miserable.
Most people remember the video. Courteney Cox, at the height of Friends mania, looking soulful in a snowy field while Duritz sports those iconic (and much-debated) dreadlocks. But the story behind the song is way more grounded than Hollywood stardom. It wasn't written in a studio or a mansion. It was written in a friend's hallway.
The Night Everything Changed in a Hollywood Hallway
Adam Duritz has always been open about his struggles with mental health—specifically a dissociative disorder that makes the world feel "fake" or distant. In late 1995, he was at a party at a friend's house. While everyone else was likely drinking and networking, Duritz found himself sitting on the floor in a hallway with a small keyboard.
He was thinking about a friend named Jennifer who had been in a devastating car accident. She was in the hospital, and the prognosis wasn't great. That's the "long December" he's talking about. It wasn't just about the calendar month; it was about the literal and figurative winter of waiting for someone to wake up, for a recovery to begin, or for the luck of the draw to finally tilt in your favor.
He wrote the song in about ten minutes.
Sometimes the best stuff comes out like a fever dream. If you look at the lyrics, they don't follow a perfect narrative logic. They jump around like memories. One minute he’s talking about "the smell of hospitals in winter," and the next he’s thinking about how "it's been a long time since I've been home." It’s messy. It’s human. That’s why, even thirty years later, it doesn't sound like a "period piece" of 90s alt-rock.
Why Counting Crows A Long December Survived the 90s
A lot of 1996 is best left in 1996. We don't need to go back to the Macarena. But Counting Crows A Long December stays relevant because it captures a very specific type of "hopeful exhaustion."
Think about the line: "The days go by / I look around and I'm thinking about the days to come." It’s a loop. You’re stuck in the past while dreading the future, all while the present is just... passing you by. Musically, the band (Dave Bryson, Charlie Gillingham, Dan Vickrey, David Immerglück, Matt Malley, and Ben Mize) kept it stripped back. They didn't overproduce it. They let the Hammond B3 organ swell like a warm breath in cold air.
The Courteney Cox Connection
Let’s be real: the music video helped. At the time, Duritz was dating Cox. It was peak celebrity gossip fodder. Having the biggest TV star in the world in your music video is a guaranteed way to get MTV rotation. But if the song sucked, the video would have been a footnote. Instead, it became a visual shorthand for "90s moodiness."
There’s a specific blue-tinted light in that video that defines the aesthetic of the era. It’s cold, it’s a little grainy, and it feels private despite being seen by millions. Interestingly, Jennifer—the friend whose accident inspired the song—actually recovered and appeared in a different version of a music video for the band later on. That’s the "silver lining" the song hints at but doesn't quite promise.
The Engineering of a Melancholy Masterpiece
When the band went into the studio to record Recovering the Satellites, they were under massive pressure. Their debut, August and Everything After, had sold something like seven million copies. Most bands would have tried to remake "Mr. Jones."
Counting Crows did the opposite.
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They made a loud, sometimes abrasive, often heartbreaking record. Counting Crows A Long December serves as the emotional anchor of that album. It’s the "breather" between the distorted guitars of "Angels of the Silences" and the sprawling drama of the title track.
- The Tempo: It’s slow, but it has a swing. It doesn't drag.
- The Vocals: Duritz sounds like he’s crying without actually crying. It’s all in the breath control.
- The Lyrics: They’re vague enough to be about your breakup, but specific enough to feel like his diary.
The song peaks at the bridge. "And it's one more day in the life of the girls / It's one more night in the city." It’s a realization that life is moving on without you. The world doesn't stop just because you’re having a crisis in a hallway. That's a brutal realization, but it's also weirdly comforting. You aren't the center of the universe. Your "long December" is just a Tuesday for everyone else.
Common Misconceptions About the Lyrics
People get the meaning of this song wrong all the time. Honestly, it’s kind of funny how many people think it’s just about New Year’s Eve.
- Is it a Christmas song? No. Just because it mentions December and snow doesn't mean it belongs on a playlist with Mariah Carey. It’s the anti-Christmas song. It’s for the people who find the holidays isolating.
- Is it about a breakup? Partly, maybe. Duritz was going through a lot of personal upheaval, but the core was the hospital stay of his friend.
- Is it depressing? This is the biggest myth. The song ends with the line "I think that I should turn these wheels around." That’s an action. That’s a choice. It’s about the moment you decide to stop wallowing and start driving, even if you don't know the way home yet.
The Legacy of Recovering the Satellites
If you ask hardcore fans, they’ll tell you Recovering the Satellites is actually a better album than their debut. It’s more complex. It’s heavier. Counting Crows A Long December represents the band finding their true voice—one that wasn't just "The next R.E.M." or "The next Van Morrison."
They were just a bunch of guys from the Bay Area trying to figure out how to be famous without losing their minds.
The song has been covered by everyone from bluegrass bands to pop-punk acts. Why? Because the chords are simple. Anyone can play it. But not everyone can sell that sense of "maybe next year will be better."
How to Actually Apply the "Long December" Philosophy
We all have these seasons. Sometimes they happen in June. It’s that period where you’re just marking time, waiting for a phone call, a job offer, or a feeling to pass.
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If you’re feeling stuck, here is how to navigate your own personal "long December" based on the vibes of the track:
- Acknowledge the "Stuckness": You can't fix a problem if you’re pretending you’re fine. It’s okay to admit the year was a wash.
- Look for the "Silver Jet Plane": In the song, Duritz mentions seeing a plane in the sky. It’s a tiny reminder that the world is big and people are going places. Use that as motivation.
- Change the Direction: The song doesn't end with him sitting on the floor. It ends with him turning the wheels.
What to do next
If you haven't listened to the full album Recovering the Satellites in a while, do it tonight. Put on some headphones. Don't shuffle. Listen to the way "A Long December" transitions the mood of the record.
Then, take a literal page out of the song's book: write down one thing from this past "winter" of your life that you're ready to leave behind. Whether it’s a bad habit, a resentment, or just a general sense of gloom.
Then, like the song says, go turn those wheels around.
The song isn't a promise that January 1st will be perfect. It’s just a reminder that December eventually has to end. That's usually enough. Even if it’s been a long time since you’ve been home, the road is still there. You just have to drive.