This week's cut is about the handoff — the chair pulled out, the keys laid down on the table, and a man teaching the next one how to hold the house while he is still here to watch it land. Ownership in it is not a trophy on a shelf; it is something you give away on purpose, on your own clock, because you built it to outlive you.
Deep sliding 808s and dark minor piano hold the room, and a hard Succession hook chants instead of shouting. The verses stay restrained and count what the come-up cost, the bridge strips down to piano, and the widest chorus lands last before the outro walks out slow.
Play it on the drive to hand something over — a closing, a first shift, a set of keys — or on any night when the hardest thing left to do is let go of the wheel.