Some Men

Some Men sounds like the perfect fusion between classic soul and the pop rock polished to perfection in the '80s. The track doesn’t settle for the obvious: it’s not just a catchy song, but a layered composition where Daryl Hall’s voice stretches over a groove that pulses in 4/4 but with an unexpected twist in the choruses. That’s the magic: the bass and drums trace a straight path, yet the keyboards and guitars move diagonally, as if the rhythm knew it had to leave room for the melody to breathe. The production by Hall, John Oates, and Neil Kernon —with technical assistance from Bruce Buchalter— ensures every instrument shines with clarity, without overcrowding, as if the studio had been a room where everything fit without clashing.

The song emerged at a time when the duo had already tested commercial formulas, but here they bet on something more organic. Hall and Oates met in Philadelphia in the late '60s, when one studied music and the other journalism, and though they spent years playing in short-lived bands —he in folk-country groups and she as a session musician for soul artists like the Stylistics— fate brought them back together. By the time they recorded Some Men, they had already spent a decade touring and releasing albums, but this track carries the freshness of those who know success isn’t an endpoint, but a journey. The title isn’t accidental: it speaks of those men who resist change, yet the music here doesn’t judge; it simply accompanies with a groove that invites movement without asking why.