New York’s Not My Home

Please indulge me while I talk about someone that has nothing to do with St. Louis or urbanity. It was 33 years ago this week the world lost one of the most talented signer-songwriters: Jim Croce.

Born in Philadelphia it seems Croce was never at home in the city (per online sources). He and his wife lived in NYC for a while but he later wrote a song, “New York’s Not My Home.” Croce, along with musical partner Maury Muehleisen, was killed in a plane crash at the peak of his musical career in 1973. This common man (he was truck driver at times) knew how to tell a good story and his lyrics have such depth.

From I Got a Name:

And I’m gonna go there free
Like a fool I am and I’ll always be
I’ve got a dream, I’ve got a dream
They can change their minds but they can’t change me
I’ve got a dream, I’ve got a dream
Oh, I know I could share it if you want me to
If you’re going my way, I’ll go with you

From Car Wash Blues:

So baby, don’t ‘spect to see me
With no double martini in any high-brow society news
‘Cause I got them steadily depressin’, low down, mind messin’
Workin’ at the car wash blues

From Rapid Roy:

Oh, Rapid Roy that stock car boy
He the best driver in the land
He say that he learned to race a stock car
By runnin’ ‘shine outta Alabam’
Oh the Demolition Derby
And the Figure Eight
Is easy money in the bank
Compared to runnin’ from the man
In Oklahoma City
With a 500 gallon tank

From You Don’t Mess Around With Jim:

Uptown got it’s hustlers
The Bowery got it’s bums
And forty-second street got big Jim Walker
He a pool shootin’ son of a gun
Yeah, he big and dumb as a man can come
But he stronger than a country hoss
And when the bad folks all get together at night
You know they all call big Jim ‘boss’…just because

From Next Time, This Time:

If you get to feelin’ all alone
When your good time friends have all got up and gone
Don’t come knockin’ around my door
Because I’ve heard your lines before

Croce’s career peaked after his death in 1973 but his music has continued to be popular with later generations who appreciate the authenticity of his work. The lesson here is that we often don’t appreciate something until many years later and long after the original creator is gone. Saving quality work for subsequent generations to appreciate should be a goal in our cities. Many craftsmen labored for decades in our city yet we continue to casually toss aside their work. While I appreciate the high art of the rare genius it is the everyday artist such as a singer-songwriter like Croce, our many brick masons, or skilled carpenters that leave a lasting impression on me long after the pop artist has faded from their 15 minutes of fame.