Somehow, I’ve gone my whole life without Jim Carroll being part of it. As a kid in New York in the 1960s, he was a published poet. He was in the punk music scene, releasing one album in 1980. And in 1995 his book “The Basketball Diaries” became a Hollywood movie. But it’s the crowd he ran with, a crowd I know well — Andy Warhol, Patti Smith, Bobby Keys — that makes his low profile, at least in my world, a surprise. Franny Thomas has played this a few times on The Loft in recent weeks. It’s a song you notice. It’s fresh and timeless, leading me to assume it’s a new release — not something that came out while I was still in high school.