John Oates would eventually debunk the myth that their 1981 classic, “I Can’t Go For That (No Can Do),” is about a relationship by telling, of all media outlets, Philly.com, that it’s “about the music business. That song is really about not being pushed around by big labels, managers and agents and being told what to do, and being true to yourself creatively.” But regardless of that exploding of a long-standing belief (likely much to Daryl Hall’s chagrin) among enthusiasts of the track, it doesn’t change how the song still comes across. Which is to say as, ultimately, an “I’d Do Anything For Love (But I Won’t Do That)” sentiment. A “setting healthy boundaries” watershed.
While “I Can’t Go For That (No Can Do)” came out twelve years prior to Meat Loaf’s signature power ballad, released in 1993 (along with the equally as iconic video, directed by Michael Bay), the correlation between the two makes it feel almost as though the singles were created as companion pieces, thematically speaking. For each of the lead vocalists singing, Daryl Hall and Meat Loaf a.k.a. Marvin Lee Aday, addresses the notion that every person (i.e., every man) has their limits—their proverbial “thresholds for pain”—when it comes to love. Breaking points that, once crossed, alter their entire mood/feelings about the person they supposedly “can’t live without” (but, as Madison Beer once said, “You say you can’t live without me/So why aren’t you dead yet?”)
Though, in the case of “I Can’t Go For That (No Can Do),” a dual interpretation prevails. Not just the love-oriented one, but also a theme that sounds, well, decidedly anti-work (de facto, anti-capitalist) as Hall sings (with a somewhat accusatory air), “Easy, ready, willin’, over time/Where does it stop?/Where do you dare me to draw the line?/You got the body now you want my soul/Don’t even think about it/Say ‘no go’.” So perhaps, subliminally, Hall & Oates found a touch of inspiration in Dolly Parton’s defiant, “fuck The Man” anthem, “9 to 5” (released one year prior to “I Can’t Go For That [No Can Do]”).
After all, it was the beginning of the 80s, when the shift toward hyper-materialism was starting to become increasingly palpable as Ronald Regan took the reins of the government (along with Margaret Thatcher “across the pond”). And, considering that Oates also confessed that “Maneater” was about “New York in the 80s,” there’s no denying that the duo was keenly aware of the simultaneous temptations and perils of capitalism.
Nonetheless, it’s the chorus of “I Can’t Go For That (No Can Do)” that accentuates the relationship-driven motif of the song, with Hall dichotomously stating to his presumed lover, “Yeah, I’ll do anything that you want me to/Yeah, I’ll do almost anything that you want me to/But I can’t go for that/No (no), no can do.” With Meat Loaf’s seminal hit, though, there’s a different kind of room for interpretation. One that pertains to what the “that” in the chorus might mean. As in, “And I would do anything for love/Oh, I would do anything for love/Oh, I would do anything for love/But I won’t do that/No, I won’t do that/I would do anything for love/Anything you’ve been dreamin’ of/But I just won’t do that.”
In short, Meat Loaf has his staunch limitations vis-à-vis l’amour as well. An “overstepping of boundaries” moment that prompts him to, at last, draw a line in the sand. Though, at the same time, he’s certain to insist to his beloved that he’ll do practically anything to ensure that their flame burns eternal, elsewhere making such declarations as, “I’ll never lie to you and that’s a fact” and “I’d run right into hell and back” (you know, if it meant being with said person).
Of course, any woman with even the slightest shred of common sense would likely be wary of such proclamations, knowing full well that men bore quite easily. Hence, on the extended a.k.a. undiluted version of the song (which still tops the length of Taylor Swift’s ten-minute iteration of “All Too Well”), featuring Lorraine Crosby singing from the female perspective, she has some skeptical pushbacks. And, naturally, she seems to have been given the instruction to project some crazy expectations onto Meat Loaf’s “character,” asking him such things as, “Can you colorize my life/Can you make it all a little less old?”
This in addition to the more suggestive questions, “Will you make me some magic with your own two hands?” and “Will you cater to every fantasy I got?” Indeed, such double entendres (whether “intended” or not) are part of what make “I’d Do Anything For Love (But I Won’t Do That)” so memorable. Perhaps even more than “I Can’t Go For That (No Can Do),” which isn’t as prone to sexual suggestiveness.
Nonetheless, the Hall & Oates’ hit has undeniable “blueprint” qualities when it comes to being the “progenitor,” if you will, of Meat Loaf’s opus. And even the titles bear a similar construction, not just in the use of parentheticals, but wielding them to add a disclaimer, of sorts, about not being capable of doing something. Something that, in the end, is left up to the listener to decide on in terms of what it “means.” Usually based on their own personal hang-ups. As Oates put it, “That song is typical of a lot of the lyrics we’ve written over the years: it seems like it’s about one thing, but it’s really not. What we have always tried to do, and if we have any kind of philosophy for our lyrics over the years it was to try to take a universal subject and somehow make it seem personal so that people could relate to it as if it was a personal thing.”
The same goes for “I’d Do Anything For Love (But I Won’t Do That)” with regard to placing one’s own definition on what they wouldn’t do for love. Alas, these days, it appears, there are far more dealbreakers than there were in 1981 and 1993, respectively.
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