Sarah Mary Chadwick’s “Take Me Out To a Bar” Is a Devastating, Jukebox-Worthy Heartbreaker


Sarah Mary Chadwick never misses when it comes to raw, unfiltered songwriting, and “Take Me Out To a Bar” is no exception. The second preview from her upcoming ninth studio album, Take Me To a Bar / What Am I, Gatsby? (out April 4 via Kill Rock Stars), is a hauntingly intimate tale of longing, self-worth, and the weight of knowing you deserve better. Chadwick’s voice drifts over sparse, melancholic keys, painting a scene straight out of a dimly lit bar—where reflections in the mirror tell a truth sharper than any conversation.
Her knack for gut-punch storytelling is on full display. The song lingers in that space between desperation and clarity, as she pleads with a lover who belongs to someone else. The imagery is rich, the pain is palpable, and the honesty is almost too much to bear—but that’s Chadwick’s magic. She pulls you in and keeps you there, even as last call approaches.
This album marks a shift—recorded just before she got sober, Chadwick hears the farewell in every note. “The desolate desire for change, the goodbyes, the fading romance, the memories,” she says. It’s a jukebox record in the best way—one that comforts, devastates, and lets you slip in and out of its world. Co-produced with Chris Townend at Tasmania’s MONA Frying Pan Studios, the album’s cinematic depth comes from a simple but brilliant trick: Townend played the entire record back through a piano, using its natural resonance to create a ghostly, enveloping reverb. It’s haunting, intimate, and beautifully DIY.
Chadwick calls this album the “elegant-aspiring sibling” to Me And Ennui Are Friends, Baby, and it shows. Take Me Out To a Bar is a masterclass in restrained heartbreak—something that tilts the room just enough, but leaves space for you to find yourself in its wreckage.