Mark Andrew

Mark Andrew doesn’t fit in at home. He’s from Johnson County, Kansas, a place famous for its high income per capita. Growing up in a suburban megachurch, he was heavily involved in a youth group. After graduating high school and (hesitantly) moving on into higher education, Mark began to feel a growing discontentment with his experienced version of Christianity. Being a local of Kansas City, he was well-accustomed with the large amount of ignored homeless people in the Metro. Along with David Van Bebber, the guys started panhandling in downtown Kansas City and giving all of the loose changes rattling around in their guitar cases straight to those often deemed “less fortunate.” They began to build relationships with the men and women of the streets, taking them out for dinner, spending time in their “homes” or providing them with enough money to buy some groceries. This grew into a pseudo-organization known as Panhandlers Ministries.
Mark’s passion for music (and the weekly ritual of playing for hours at a time on street corners) inevitably led to the writing of original songs. He began to tinker with the ideas of political situations, social injustices and theology in the form of songs, stories and poems. His prophetic lyrics and enjoyably typical folk-style make a combination that will have your toe tapping one minute, and your body frozen in shock the next. This guy pulls no punches in his hopes of communicating his desire for hope and peace in a chaotic world. From disturbing and challenging songs such as “Bury Your Bullets” to satirical rants such as “A Nightstick Can Really Get A Man Talkin,” Mark Andrew calls back the prophetic tradition of singer-songwriters like Bob Dylan and CCR, reminding us of how easily we slip back into the comfortable routines and ruts of everyday life. His inner rhymes and poignant provocations are easy to get lost in and tough to hear— and in just the right quantities to be hypnotic and fun.
In truth, there may be little chance that Mark Andrew will ever go much farther than the Metroplex of Kansas City. His biting lyrics and reminiscent folk sound probably won’t sell. The blatant criticism of “the man” might even keep him from ever trusting such endeavors. But Mark Andrew challenges his local tribe in ways beyond words. His music dares a bunch of rich kids from Johnson County to reconsider the sea of Starbucks and shopping malls for a vision of hope and change that even Barack Obama can’t provide. Mark Andrew dares me to be a better human
- Matthew Gallion