Songs I wish I'd written: #4
“Can’t Run But”
by Paul Simon
While Graceland gets a ton of attention (and for good reason), it seems that people forget about Rhythm Of The Saints. The former is a landmark record in the songwriter’s catalog, but I think that the latter is the better record.
As albums go, lead-off tracks are always interesting decisions, but the second song on a record can shape the entire journey for me. And “Can’t Run But” is one of the best second tracks on any record that I’ve heard. Sitting down to listen to it is like realizing that what you thought was a mere rock is a geode. The opening rhythms give way to a simple beat based on the offbeats punctuated by what sounds like a cabasa (though none is listed, so maybe it’s a shaker or scraper, which are). Breaking up the beat and vocal phrases is a perfectly placed muted triangle.
Simon’s writing is almost always fascinating, and this song is no exception. The low melody that starts the song, which is catchy enough to be the main hook for any other songwriter, is just framing for Simon. His vocals float in a basic melody over top a river of percussion and that opening melody. There is no harmonic movement or structure to this song, only the lyrics differentiate the sections. Simon, who seems to fit more and yet just enough words than most songwriters, uses only three verses to paint three different scenes: one purportedly about the after effects of Chernobyl, one about a dream, and one more abstract that ends with a dig at the music industry.
What’s so interesting to me is that the lyrics don’t convey an overall theme. You can try to bridge these scenes for some larger point, but it feels like a reach. And so we’re left to wonder if this was just an exercise for Simon; were these verses just throwaway for him, small brush-offs that could have been something larger but just weren’t, for whatever reason? Or will we never know what really unites them? In the end, it doesn’t matter. It’s a testament to his artistry that he can start three different paintings on one canvas and each was enough to bring a vignette to life, like a short story by Ray Bradbury. More poem than song, more casual suggestion than meticulous composition. Despite the seemingly unfollowed threads, the listener is left satisfied to float on down the river, as if the song was never here, creating in their mind the scenes that might have been.
lyrics
I can’t run but
I can walk much faster than this
Can’t run but
I can’t run but
I can walk much faster than this
Can’t run but
A cooling system
Burns out the Ukraine
Trees and umbrellas
Protect us from the new rain
Armies of engineers
To analyze the soil
The food we contemplate
The water that we boil
I can’t run but
I can walk much faster than this
Can’t run but
I can’t run but
I can walk much faster than this
Can’t run but
I had a dream about us
In the bottles and the bones of the night
I felt a pain in my shoulder blade
Like a pencil point? A love bite?
A couple was rubbing against us
Rubbing and doing that new dance
The man was wearing a jacket and jeans
The woman was laughing in advance
I can’t run but
I can walk much faster than this
Can’t run but
I can’t run but
I can walk much faster than this
Can’t run but
A winding river
Gets wound around a heart.
Pull it tighter and tighter
Until the muddy waters part
Down by the riverbank
A blues band arrives
The music suffers, baby
The music business thrives
I can’t run but
I can walk much faster than this
Cannot run but
I can’t run but
I can walk much faster than this
Cannot run but