Song Meaning
Rufus Wainwright's "Want" isn't a declaration of ambition, but rather a poignant stripping away of it. The song meaning resides in its yearning for simplicity, for a life free from the burdens of expectation and the pressures of artistic greatness. Wainwright explicitly rejects the legacies of figures like John Lennon and Leonard Cohen, icons whose shadows loom large over the singer-songwriter landscape. This isn't false modesty; it's a conscious choice to opt out of the relentless pursuit of fame and influence. Instead, he longs for the quiet intimacy of family, the mundane comfort of working in a family store. This desire reflects a deep-seated need for groundedness, a refuge from the often-tumultuous world of artistic creation.
The lyrics further explore this tension between ambition and contentment. Wainwright doesn't want to "make it rain" – a common metaphor for achieving massive success – but simply wants things to be "simple." He doesn't seek enlightenment ("the light"), but the focused clarity of a "flashlight." These stark contrasts highlight a deliberate rejection of grandiosity in favor of a more modest, personal existence. The almost childlike repetition of "I don't want / No I really don't want" underscores the depth of this desire, a mantra against the seductive pull of external validation.
Ultimately, "Want" arrives at a fragile acceptance. The repeated refrain, "I'll settle for love," suggests a recognition that complete escape from the complexities of life is impossible. Love, in this context, isn't just romantic love; it's a broader embrace of human connection, a willingness to find meaning and solace in the relationships that sustain us. The final verses, tinged with anxiety and uncertainty, hint at the ever-present fear of the unknown, the sense that something is "comin' for to get me." Yet, even in the face of this existential dread, Wainwright clings to the hope that love – in its messy, imperfect form – will be enough. The plea, "Will you make-a me sad / Or happy," acknowledges the inherent risk of vulnerability, but also the potential for profound joy. The question lingers: can we find contentment by surrendering our grandest ambitions and settling for the simple, profound reality of love?