"I Got A Name" by Norman Gimbel and Charles Fox

Singalong 002: Messing around with Jim

This guy, Jim Croce, is part of my DNA. To me his music evokes beauty, honesty and a certain brand of proud American-ness grounded in truth and hard work, forever looking askance at commercialism, flag-waving and red solo cups without jettisoning the ideas, ideals and identities which give us what many like to call greatness.

"And I carry it with me like my daddy did"

I remember a cassette tape in a white, soapbox-like case. It jostled around the orange VW bus on the road trip to Mexico I took with my dad in 1979. The tape remained with us through the mid 80's, and it (along with Croce's ubiquitous "Photographs and Memories" greatest hits LP) helped program my cells growing up.

Croce is my "Dad Rock". My dad was a war baby, just a little older than the baby boomers. Not a "proper" boomer, he was, like Croce, mostly aloof to the hippie scene. My dad is a demographer, so he'd know.

Me? Generation X. But I believe that all this “generation” talk is nothing but astrology for columnists¹. Let’s move ahead, so life won’t pass us by.

“Like the north wind whistling down the sky, I got a song”

In a world rapidly taking on a bold new look with MTV, members-only jackets, DeLoreans, zip-off sleeves, hairspray, Reaganomics and a persistent fear of nuclear war, my 80’s experience of Jim Croce's music was a taste of American life at its most beautifully basic. Of course, as a youngster I had little interest in it. But once I hit my 30's, life started pumelling me relentlessly and I rediscovered my appreciation for the simple truths and graceful grit in Croce’s voice.

I associate his music with my own origins, the story I like to tell myself about who “we” are. It sometimes bores me but at least it feels true most of the time. I get sentimental about Pennsylvania. I start to remember the kid who liked to bang on pots and pans, catch turtles and sing with friends around the campfire.

"If it gets me nowhere, I'll go there proud"

The week I was born, "Bad Bad Leroy Brown" was at the top of the charts. But a few months later, in September 1973, Jim Croce was taken from us at age 30 in a plane crash between gigs. It was a stupid, tragic, unfathomable loss. Because as it turns out, I do want to mess around with Jim.

As an adult, I heard Croce songs with fresh ears: "Operator" and "One Less Set Of Footsteps" hit differently after a few torn relationships. "New York's Not My Home" cut straight to the bone as I was awakening to it not being my home either.

But this is a song he didn't write. "I Got A Name" was Jim’s Hollywood ticket.

"If you're goin' my way, I'll go with you"

I GOT A NAME was penned by Norman Gimbel and Charles Fox, Gimbel being the same dude who translated the immortal Bossa Nova tunes into English for Stan Getz and a guy named João.

Jim sang two versions: the album version and the opening credits to “The Last American Hero”.

And without Jim's voice on this song, it would never have crystallized into what it became. Tarantino tapped it for a strategic sync in Django Unchained, because no other song makes you feel quite as free in quite the same way. Still, it does sound dated.

“I Got A Name” played on the radio, in heavy rotation with the news about Croce's tragic early death. I was in my (actual) crib. It's hard to gauge the loss: what would he have written about as the 70s progressed? Would Jim have done disco? Or would he stay relegated to the folk scene? Would he tour with Bill Withers? Would Daniel Lanois or Rick Rubin have taken up his mantle in the 90s to produce iconic, new, late career Croce works? We'll never know.

But we have the early stuff and we have this song, so I'll carry it with me and sing it loud.

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1. Paul Ford said this first, as far as I know.