B-Side Guys

On their latest track, Massachusetts funk-blues outfit SLACK serves up infidelity’s aftermath with a side of righteous swagger. “Leaving You Tomorrow” transforms the classic morning-after-the-breakup narrative by focusing on the night before, creating a potent cocktail of vindication and vulnerability.

The chemistry between Ed Farrington’s lead vocals and the backing harmonies of Barbara Farrington and Rob Hewlett provides essential tension, especially when delivering loaded lines like “you can never trust the cheating kind.” These vocal layers create a Greek chorus effect, turning personal grievance into universal truth.

Phil Juels’ lead guitar work speaks eloquently in the spaces between verses, offering commentary that ranges from mournful to defiant. The interplay between his lines and Farrington’s rhythm guitar builds a conversational quality that mirrors the song’s emotional push-pull.

The rhythm section of Joe True and Rob Hewlett lays down a groove that manages to be both determined and wounded. Their pocket suggests someone walking away with their head held high while their heart drags on the ground – no small feat for a rhythm section to convey.

What elevates this beyond standard blues fare is the protagonist’s clear-eyed self-awareness. Lines like “I’m not the forgiving kind” land not as boasts but as hard-won self-knowledge. The repeated contrast between “tomorrow” and “tonight” creates a temporal tension that drives the entire narrative.

Formed in 2004 in Hudson, MA, SLACK brings nearly two decades of collective experience to bear on this track. That history shows in their restraint – knowing exactly when to let the instruments breathe and when to bring the full force of the band to bear for maximum emotional impact.

The lyrics’ imagery runs sharp and clean – “Like you stuck a knife in me” pairs perfectly with “gonna set myself free,” creating a cause-and-effect relationship between betrayal and liberation. It’s the kind of economical storytelling that only comes from years of honing one’s craft.

Each chorus hits harder than the last, building not through volume or intensity but through accumulated meaning. By the time we reach the final “NO,” it carries the weight of every previous iteration plus something new: resolution.

SLACK has created something that honors blues tradition while carving out its own emotional territory. “Leaving You Tomorrow” works both as a cathartic sing-along for the wronged and a masterclass in how to maintain dignity while nursing a broken heart.