Take That Man

"Take That Man" flips the IV of Spades script entirely — here the band is loose-limbed and gleeful, riding a funk-inflected groove that practically demands movement. The bass is front and center, thick and rubbery, and the guitar chops arrive with a rhythmic precision that keeps everything locked while still feeling alive and slightly unpredictable. The song reclaims romantic agency from the jilted-narrator position: rather than mourning a lost love, the speaker essentially gifts their partner back to whoever came before, with full confidence and zero bitterness. That emotional posture — dignified release — gives the track a swagger most breakup songs are too wounded to access. The horns punctuate the arrangement like punctuation marks underlining a point already made, and the interplay between instruments has that loose-but-tight quality of a band that's been playing together long enough to trust each other completely. It draws from the same vintage American soul vocabulary as their other work but channels it into something extroverted and almost comedic in its self-assurance. Pull it out when you need to remember that walking away can be an act of power rather than defeat — or simply when you need to dance in your kitchen at noon.