I see what you mean, Macz. In fact, I think this song is built around a central contradiction: the partners in this scenario are decidedly NOT free.
As I hear it, the refrain ("Higher, higher. Won't you come with me...") holds out the promise of some transcendent experience. This sounds especially appealing in light of the verses, which describe what sounds like a nightmare of a relationship. But, as Macz noted, things start to get complicated with the assertion that the narrator doesn't want anything to change. How do we make sense of the apparent desire to transcend the disagreements and games while still maintaining the status quo?
Well, for my money, the key to "Soul Free" is the pre-chorus (beginning "When you touch me, baby..."). First of all, at this point in the song the lyric and delivery (dig that falsetto) become suddenly sensual, suggesting that the transcendent experience alluded to in the refrain is a sexual one. Second, and I think even more tellingly, the narrator asserts that he "[has] no choice" but to succumb to "sweet temptation." Now, seems to me that not having a choice would undermine any quest for or experience of freedom. However, it may be that the narrator derives a sense of freedom from the act of letting go--of submitting to the seduction of his lover.
Thus, put somewhat crudely, I hear this as a song in which the relationship is bad, but the sex is great. And, to put an even finer (and more twisted) point on it, the latter condition may derive from the former.
ALTERNATELY, one could read the verses and pre-choruses as a description of a person trapped in a relationship that he knows is cyclical and unhealthy, while reading the chorus as an invitation from someone outside the relationship. In my mind, this someone could be real or only hoped for during lucid moments (that is, between instances of "sweet temptation").
Either way, the tension between the verses and the chorus is what makes this song work, and I think any interpretation has to address that tension.
That said, I tend to favor my first, more twisted, interpretation, not least because the musical setting is so sinister. For one thing, the song is in a minor key throughout, lending little musical "sympathy" to the lyrical contrast between verse and chorus. For another, the breakdown section toward the end is super creepy. I hear the low sustained root tones, the stuttering percussion, and the repetitive flute loop as a sort of relative calm before the storm. The clock is ticking, and if the narrator is going to escape to real freedom, he'd better do it soon, because the familiar chaos is just around the corner. When the brass and keys kick back in at full gale, I hear the sound of the cycle starting over with renewed violence, as if the chance to actually get his soul free has just grown that much dimmer.
I see what you mean, Macz. In fact, I think this song is built around a central contradiction: the partners in this scenario are decidedly NOT free.
As I hear it, the refrain ("Higher, higher. Won't you come with me...") holds out the promise of some transcendent experience. This sounds especially appealing in light of the verses, which describe what sounds like a nightmare of a relationship. But, as Macz noted, things start to get complicated with the assertion that the narrator doesn't want anything to change. How do we make sense of the apparent desire to transcend the disagreements and games while still maintaining the status quo?
Well, for my money, the key to "Soul Free" is the pre-chorus (beginning "When you touch me, baby..."). First of all, at this point in the song the lyric and delivery (dig that falsetto) become suddenly sensual, suggesting that the transcendent experience alluded to in the refrain is a sexual one. Second, and I think even more tellingly, the narrator asserts that he "[has] no choice" but to succumb to "sweet temptation." Now, seems to me that not having a choice would undermine any quest for or experience of freedom. However, it may be that the narrator derives a sense of freedom from the act of letting go--of submitting to the seduction of his lover.
Thus, put somewhat crudely, I hear this as a song in which the relationship is bad, but the sex is great. And, to put an even finer (and more twisted) point on it, the latter condition may derive from the former.
ALTERNATELY, one could read the verses and pre-choruses as a description of a person trapped in a relationship that he knows is cyclical and unhealthy, while reading the chorus as an invitation from someone outside the relationship. In my mind, this someone could be real or only hoped for during lucid moments (that is, between instances of "sweet temptation").
Either way, the tension between the verses and the chorus is what makes this song work, and I think any interpretation has to address that tension.
That said, I tend to favor my first, more twisted, interpretation, not least because the musical setting is so sinister. For one thing, the song is in a minor key throughout, lending little musical "sympathy" to the lyrical contrast between verse and chorus. For another, the breakdown section toward the end is super creepy. I hear the low sustained root tones, the stuttering percussion, and the repetitive flute loop as a sort of relative calm before the storm. The clock is ticking, and if the narrator is going to escape to real freedom, he'd better do it soon, because the familiar chaos is just around the corner. When the brass and keys kick back in at full gale, I hear the sound of the cycle starting over with renewed violence, as if the chance to actually get his soul free has just grown that much dimmer.