"I want to have a good time like everybody," seemed to be Adam Duritz's way of connecting with his audience of mainly exhausted, overworked and midterm-frenzied students during The Counting Crows concert at the Morris Performing Arts Center Tuesday night.

Although the Counting Crows have never worn the label of the grunge era that they grew out of, they're not exactly a good-timing band either. In the wake of Nirvana and the angst rock revolution of the early '90s, a hole was left open for a more cerebral yet equally emotionally charged style to move into the scene. Enter Counting Crows. A group whose roots were equal parts folk and rock, the Crows' style was unique, mixing morose, somber melodies with intensely personal yet welcoming lyrics. Their first album, August and Everything After, was a multi-platinum overnight success.

With the help of an MTV hit single, August propelled the band into the forefront of a scene that seemed to eagerly accept their folky style of angst despite its departure from the norm at the time. With their sophomore album, Recovering the Satellites, Counting Crows moved in a pop-wardly direction, putting a little more glitter and shine into their songs than before. Although the album did not receive the same critical or public embrace as August, it was by no means a disappointment for the band, or for their quickly growing fan base.

The band's third album, This Desert Life, showcased the band's finely honed talents as musicians and songwriters. All the songs sprung from improvisational jams in the studio, a feat that shows the truth and power of the emotions in their songs in a very honest way.

Their latest album, Hard Candy, has been met with the most critical acclaim since their debut. Enlisting the help of veteran songwriters, Ryan Adams and Matthew Sweet, the Crows put together a spotless amalgam of pop sensibilities and engaging lyrics.

The seven-man band has grown to move seamlessly together, no small feat in an industry full of line up changes and ego clashes. The use of underrepresented instruments like the accordion, mandolin, banjo, and upright bass give the Counting Crows a musical depth that is rarely encountered in the form of a traditional songwriting band. It is this, the band's multifaceted arrangement that makes the Counting Crows music complex yet accessible.

Such was the Crows' performance, ranging from subdued and anticlimactic to emphatic and alive. Their stage setup was a perfect example of this dichotomous existence in which their music thrives. The band took their places before a backdrop of projected wild flowers, with sea of lavender light soaking the stage and setting the mood for their opening lullaby, "Goodnight Elizabeth." Although it is a perfect example of the Crows skillful songwriting, it was an unexpected choice as an opener. But as Duritz soon explained in his first of several aside, the band had decided on a slightly unorthodox approach to the show that night.

Perhaps feeling that on this, a Crows tour that concentrated mainly on college towns such as South Bend, a laid-back approach would be more fitting, the band prepared acoustic arrangements of songs that traditionally were more upbeat and musically complex.

While this formula served the band's trademark songs like "Omaha" and "Mr. Jones" well, it was not as flattering for other numbers, which came out skewed and largely lifeless. This could be attributed to Duritz' apparent memory loss of his own lyrics, which he perused during the bridge of one number and openly admitted to having forgotten during another. Regardless of the reason, the songs lacked the emotion and fluidity that the album versions convey.

After reducing one of the band's most empathetic songs, "Rain King," to a languid afterthought, Duritz and company redeemed themselves with a stellar rendition of their hit, "Long December." Returning to their more familiar electric roots, the Crows seemed more at ease with themselves and their surroundings, which became evident in their performance. A background of glittery stars silhouetted the band as Duritz, this time behind the keyboard, led the song from its stuttering, snail-paced introduction to a veritable starburst as he leapt from his seat, feet keeping the tempo to a song that the audience knew by heart but seemed to enjoy with a unique novelty.

Similarly, "Daylight Fading" and the infectious "Hangin' Around" soared with the emotion and purpose with which they were written and meant to be performed. "Murder of One," the song whose lyrics inspired the band's name, joined "Long December" as the other standout of the night.

The Crows' time on the road and time together was especially evident during songs like these, with a surge of showmanship and rock and roll stage presence visibly rousing the already standing crowd that at other points of the night seemed lulled.

Although the set list did offer a number of hits, mere hit status was not enough to save some songs from Duritz' capricious and intoxicated interpretations. Granted, they are his songs and he is free to take any and all ill-advised approaches to his own work. But the patience of the audience was noticeably tried during numbers like "Anna Begins" where Duritz preferred to act out and sing monotonously what are truly beautiful lyrics, turning one of the band's best songs into a painful exercise in self-expression.

The egregious lack of crowd favorites, such as "All My Friends", "Mrs. Potter's Lullaby" and their masterpiece "Round Here" hurt the band and kept fans waiting but ultimately unsatisfied.

The two encores offered more enjoyment for the jamming band onstage than for anyone in the audience save the most avid and die-hard Counting Crows fan, who may be satisfied with more obscure selections from the band's catalog. Although "Holiday in Spain," the band's closing number, was one of the most solid performances of the evening, its place at the end of the set left the audience searching for something more familiar and climactic, something that everyone could sing along to.

Maybe the Crows are still feeling out their new material and fitting it in to their polished repertoire of classic songs. Then again, maybe they cherish live outings as a chance to reinvent themselves, admittedly the right of any musician, although not the smartest avenue to please fans. But the Crows continue to sell out tours, and new fans keep their following growing. Regardless, everyone present, the band included, left happy, if not altogether satisfied, and Duritz's "good time" was had by all.

• Audience flocks to The Crows at the Morris