TATAR#7 Falling

by Joy Williams and John Paul White (2011)

(Now this songwriting pair are better known as The Civil Wars and if you want the full-on vocals of the original, it's more than worth it. However this simpler version lets us hear the song more clearly.)

So this song has more drama going on than most theatre songs. And in some unexpected ways.

First off, it's called 'Falling' but rather than the more usual idea of falling in love, this is about falling out of love. Oh right, I hear you say with imaginary insouciance, so it's just another sad song about breaking up, huh? Not quite. 

You see, there hasn't been any breaking up. This woman is still with the man she is falling out love with (or 'the man with whom she is out of love falling' or something - prepositional endings, they can off sod). She wants to leave but, overwhelmed by guilt, can't bring herself to do it. What she really wants is for him to recognize her situation and either rescue or end the relationship. Anything but this drifting emptiness.

So what we have here is not just the drama of a relationship between two people. There is also the inner drama of a woman knowing that something must be done but being unable to do it. She's living in that tension.

We start with the metaphor of sleepwalking.

Haven't you seen me sleepwalking

'Cause I've been holding your hand

We're in a slow 6/8 in a minor key. There's a little semi-tone clash in the accompaniment that keeps things off balance. Something's not quite right.

Then the pleading begins.

Tell me it's nothing

Try to convince me

That I'm not drowning

And when we get to the chorus, we're into F major. Normally this kind of key change - minor to major - would likely indicate a move from happy to sad. Here, it's more of an emotional clarity, like surfacing briefly from a murky pool. Suddenly we're not drifting. The harmonies have direction, the rhythm has a purpose.   

Please, please tell me you know 

I've got to let you go

I can't help falling out of love with you

Also if you're going to make it an emotional release, then having a nice long note on the word 'ple-e-e-ase' is a fine way to do it. In the final chorus, we get a glimpse of the full despair.

Won't you read my mind?

Don't you let me lie here

And die here

It's a kind of death, this living but not living. 

This is a beautifully simple song. The real complication isn't in the music or lyrics, it's in the idea. The dramatic setup - a woman trapped by her own guilt in a loveless relationship - offers more emotional interest than most songs. There's melancholy, disillusionment, guilt, anger, despair. All in four minutes.

This song reminds me of the astonishing things that music and words can do.