Showing posts with label jim croce. Show all posts
Showing posts with label jim croce. Show all posts

Monday, September 14, 2020

Lessons: The Hard Way Every Time



I was well into my twenties when I learned that my grandmother and I share the same favorite musician. It makes me wonder how many forgotten childhood afternoons I spent in her house listening to Jim Croce, being unaware and unformed enough to remark on the occasions.


When it comes to learning and lessons, Jim Croce’s albums are a masterclass in life, love, and who not to mess around with. His song The Hard Way Every Time takes the subject on headfirst and reminds me of falling through a tree, painfully hitting every branch on the way down before landing softly in the grass at the end of the song. It’s hard not to hear the lyrics, and the strings that eventually accompany them, and not go through a mental slideshow of some of the hardest lessons we’ve each learned in our lives.


Covers of Croce that are worth listening to are few and far between. One reason being that his songs are written for two guitars and this doesn’t seem to deter any aspiring cover musicians from attacking it solo, at least not in the Youtube crowd. But Dale Ann Bradley does an incredible job of The Hard Way Every Time in my opinion on her album Hard Way. (The album also includes covers of Bobbie Gentry, The Grateful Dead, and Journey, among others) The bluegrass take and her country twang would have been even more at home in my grandmother’s farmhouse in the Appalachian foothills than Philly’s own Jim Croce all those years ago. It certainly takes me back.





Saturday, November 19, 2011

Homonyms: Operator


Grateful Dead: Operator

[purchase]

Manhattan Transfer: Operator

[purchase]

Alexis Korner with Robert Plant: Operator

[purchase]

Jim Croce: Operator (That‘s Not the Way It Feels)

[purchase]

When I was a child, there was only one telephone company. If you needed any help making a call, you were completely at their mercy. What we call by the more clunky name of directory assistance was simply known as “information” in those days, and you spoke to a human being, usually female. Lily Tomlin, shown above, brilliantly spoofed the information operator and the power of the phone company. But their job was twofold: to help the customer reach their party, but also to protect the privacy of that party. So, if you didn’t have enough information to help the operator find the number and connect you, you might be treated with suspicion. That created the perfect metaphor for songwriters.

Ron McKernan, better known as Pigpen, was the original keyboard player for the Grateful Dead. His song Operator has the narrator trying to find a girl for whom he has incomplete information, maybe just her name. He has a vague idea where she might be, but nothing definite. The girl could easily be a groupie with whom the narrator had a one night stand that made a strong impression on the narrator. But, in listening to the song while preparing for this post, I was struck with another possibility, one I feel sure Pigpen never intended. What if the narrator is a father searching for his teen runaway daughter? As I said, I don’t think Pigpen had that in mind, but it works.

If you have heard of Manhattan Transfer, you may know them for their doo-wop flavored hit The Boy From New York City. Maybe you also know that they went in a jazz direction in their later career. But Operator was their breakthrough song in 1975, and it is pure gospel. The song was originally written and performed about 20 years earlier by William Spivery. Aside from Operator, Spivery is really only known for two other songs, musical tributes to John F Kennedy and Martin Luther King. The song is a prayer, with the singer asking the operator for a connection to heaven.

Special thanks go out to fellow Star Maker Bert for making this post possible. I asked him for the two songs above, and he went beyond the call of duty and sent me a third Operator by Alexis Korner. I had never even heard it before, but it’s a keeper that is also of historical interest. Alexis Korner was one of many British rock artists in the 1960s who embraced the blues. His playing, based on this example, was fine, but Korner wasn’t much of a blues singer, and that is probably why he isn’t better known. John Mayall was probably an even worse singer, but his reputation rests on his uncanny ability to find sidemen who would go on to fame and fortune. On Operator, Korner got that kind of help too, from Robert Plant. Plant would be in Led Zeppelin a year after this recording, developing his trademark rock howl. But here is the beginning of that voice, in a blues context. Personally. I would much rather hear Robert Plant sing the blues. This Operator is a breakup blues, with nothing special about the lyrics. But the performance is great. It’s just piano, acoustic guitar, harmonica, and that great blues howl by Plant that makes this one utterly convincing. Incidentally, nothing in the lyrics explains why this song is called Operator, but Korner had to call it something.

Finally, I’m cheating a bit with my last selection. But how can you post a set of songs called Operator, and not include Jim Croce? The parenthetical That’s Not the Way It Feels in the title means the song is not a true homonym, but it fits the theme better than the Alexis Korner song in terms of lyrics. Like Pigpen, Croce’s narrator is seeking a girl he knew back when. But he knows where she is. What Croce’s narrator really wants is the ability to forgive an old hurt that won’t go away. And that is what he is asking for help with.

Thursday, October 21, 2010

Call Me: Operator Edition


Bob Dylan & The Band: Long Distance Operator

[purchase]

Jim Croce: Operator (That's Not the Way it Feels)

[purchase]

Roman Reese: Come in Operator

[purchase]

Bert's post got me thinking about the now obsolete job of the telephone operator.  Odds are that my daughter, who is now three months old will never have the experience of picking up a phone and simply dialing the switchboard operator for assistance with making a call.  Heck, I'm 32, and I don't think I've ever done it either.

My grandfather worked 30 years for AT&T.  When he started working for the phone company, the switchboard operator was an absolutely essential piece of the puzzle.  Now his great-granddaughter will likely have no idea the job ever existed.  Maybe he can tell her about it someday.

The first two songs here are fairly classic.  The third is a more recent track from former Knoxvillian (now in the DC area) Roman Reese about a more metaphorical phone call.  In it, the singer is sending up a prayer, and God is working the switchboard.

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Jailbait: Don't Do It Department



Jim Croce: Five Short Minutes

[purchase]

Steve Goodman: Death Of A Salesman

[purchase]

Here are two more musical examples that show what can happen to a guy who involves himself with under aged girls. And again, as in my previous post, neither of these condone, but rather they show the consequences.

Thursday, August 7, 2008

Cars: Jim Croce Edition

Jim Croce: Speedball Tucker

[purchase]

Jim Croce: Rapid Roy (The Stock Car Boy)

[purchase]

Jim Croce: Workin' at the Car Wash Blues

[purchase]

You can have your James Taylors and your Jackson Brownes and your Dan Fogelbergs and your Cat Stevens. Just give me some Jim Croce and I'm a happy man.

Croce is one of the tragic stories in music history. He appealed to fans by writing songs about the common man and some of the characters that populate their worlds. Whether he's singing about Leroy Brown, Jim (who no one should mess around with), The Roller Derby Queen, Speedball Tucker, Rapid Roy, or just some schlub working at the car wash with aspirations of greater things ahead... Jim Croce's music strikes a chord. By the end of his songs, you feel as though you know character described within and are pulling for them to win.

Awful man that he is, you feel for Leroy Brown when cut down in a bar fight. You want Speedball Tucker, the trucker who is hopped up on any number of pills, to escape the law and keep speeding down the freeway. You cheer when Rapid Roy takes the checkered flag, and you root for the car wash employee to escape his "steadily depressin', low down, mind messin'" blues.

Jim Croce died in a plane crash in Natchitoches, LA in 1973. His music lives on.

Sunday, June 8, 2008

Advice: You Don't Mess Around With Jim



Jim Croce: You Dont Mess Around With Jim

[purchase]

You don't tug on Superman's cape
You don't spit into the wind
You don't pull the mask off that old Lone Ranger
And you don't mess around with Jim