“Gettin’ It in the Street” is David Cassidy stepping off the poster and into real daylight—a gritty, searching anthem about chasing freedom while the past keeps tugging your sleeve.
The moment you hear David Cassidy snarl the opening of “Gettin’ It in the Street”, you understand it isn’t trying to charm you. It’s trying to tell you who he became after the screaming crowds, the television glow, the endless expectation to stay “sweet.” Released in November 1976 as the title track of his RCA album Gettin’ It in the Street, the song was written by David Cassidy with Gerry Beckley (of the band America) and produced by Cassidy and Beckley—a collaboration that already signals a shift from manufactured teen-idol pop toward something tougher, more self-directed.
And the chart story—small but telling—fits that mood. In the U.S., the single surfaced on Billboard’s Bubbling Under Hot 100 at No. 105 on December 4, 1976, a brief chart footprint that nonetheless documents its existence in real time, like a flare shot into a cloudy sky. In Germany, it found a different kind of life: it climbed to No. 7 on a weekly Top 20 compiled by readers of the teen magazine Bravo—a fascinating detail, because it suggests Cassidy’s audience there was still listening closely, even as he changed his skin.
What makes this song especially poignant is the odd, almost haunted release history of the album around it. Gettin’ It in the Street was released in Germany and Japan in November 1976, but it did not reach album charts, and only a small number of U.S. copies were pressed, later appearing in the U.S. in 1979 in cut-out/remainder channels—one reason the record long felt like a rumor you had to hunt down. That half-visible existence mirrors the emotional theme of the title track itself: a man present, singing, alive—yet never quite given the full, official platform he deserved at home.
Then there’s the guitar. If you’ve ever wondered why this track carries an extra streak of danger, the answer is right there in the credits: Mick Ronson—fresh off his legendary work with David Bowie—plays lead guitar on “Gettin’ It in the Street.” It’s one of those pairings that feels improbable until you hear it, and then it feels inevitable. Ronson doesn’t merely decorate the song; he sets it on fire, the solo like a bright blade drawn from the middle of the arrangement. A music feature on the Ronson/Cassidy connection describes the title track as Ronson “burning all over the tune,” capturing exactly how his playing refuses to sit politely in the mix.
Behind the sound sits a lyric that has long invited speculation—because it doesn’t read like fantasy. One well-regarded reissue essay noted that the title track’s words (“wants to be a millionaire…”) feel like a scathing indictment of an absent father, prompting listeners to wonder whether Cassidy was indirectly addressing his own complicated feelings about his late father, actor Jack Cassidy. Whether or not you accept that reading as biography, the emotional truth remains: this is a song about being raised by absence—about watching adulthood chase money, status, escape, and leaving tenderness behind as if it were luggage too heavy to carry.
That’s why “Gettin’ It in the Street” lands with such a bruised electricity. The “street” here isn’t only a place; it’s a state of mind. It’s where glamour comes off, where the asphalt doesn’t care what your last hit single did, where you learn quickly that freedom costs something every day. Cassidy sings like someone who has stopped asking to be understood and started demanding to be heard. The voice is huskier than the early-’70s radio image—less boyish shine, more grain, more grit—like he’s letting the microphone catch the rough edges on purpose.
Musically, the track is also a quiet declaration of independence. Working with Gerry Beckley placed Cassidy in a songwriter’s room rather than a teen-idol assembly line; the album itself contains multiple Cassidy co-writes, and the title cut sets the tone: a rock-forward posture, not cosplay, but conviction. The production doesn’t chase disco or soft-rock comfort—it keeps a firm spine, leaving space for Ronson’s guitar to speak in sparks and smoke.
In the end, “Gettin’ It in the Street” isn’t remembered because it conquered charts. It’s remembered because it tells the truth about reinvention—how painful it is to outgrow the version of you that made everyone else happy. Cassidy isn’t begging for permission to change. He’s already changed, and the song is the evidence: a man walking forward with his collar up against the wind, refusing to be preserved in bubblegum amber. If you’ve ever had to start again—quietly, stubbornly, without applause—this track understands. It doesn’t promise an easy road. It just keeps moving, one hard-earned step at a time, straight into the street.