Man! I Feel Like a Woman

The gender-flip implicit in Swims performing this Shania Twain anthem isn't played for irony — it's played for pure, unironic liberation. The arrangement leans into a soulful swagger that replaces the arena-country stomp of the original with something greasier and more groove-oriented. A walking bass line anchors the verses while horns punctuate the chorus with a Stax-Records looseness. Swims delivers the lyrics with theatrical relish, clearly delighted by the permission the song grants to be loud, unsubtle, and unapologetically fun. His voice, which elsewhere carries so much emotional weight, here becomes an instrument of pure performance — the rasp that usually signals sincerity becomes theatrical bravado. The whole thing has the energy of a musician who has spent years being told to be serious taking a deep breath and remembering that joy is also a valid artistic choice. Culturally, this version collapses the distance between nineties country pop and classic soul, revealing how much the two traditions share when it comes to celebrating self-determination. The song is about the freedom to define yourself however you want on a given night — to be big, to take up space, to make noise. Put it on before a night out when you need to remember you don't owe anyone a smaller version of yourself.