a. Man

a. Man


Using music as a vehicle to uncover, understand and express the truth, a. Man writes raw, thought provoking and emotionally charged songs combining an aggressive lyrical style with melodic interplay between vocal and guitar.


What is the American experience? That is the central question resting at the heart of The Republic, the debut album by a. Man. Using music as a vehicle to uncover, understand and express the truth, the singer/songwriter from Chicago takes us on a journey to find the heart of America. Along the way, we meet characters from all corners of our society-a homeless man, an immigrant, an oil-man turned politician, a Katrina victim, and an unemployed coal miner. As we travel through The Republic, we are confronted with pressing issues such as Indian relocation, slavery, religion, war, the death penalty, weapons production, and greed. The album is a quest to find the heart of America and, as often happens, it is not the destination but the journey itself that gives the greatest reward. With each song a. Man exposes, challenges and strips away the layers of hypocrisy, injustice and indifference that cloud the truth. As these layers fade, we find the understanding, honesty, and compassion that are the true rewards of our journey.

Most of The Republic features raw, stripped down and emotionally charged songs featuring just acoustic guitar and vocal. The use of electric guitars on songs such as “Underpass” and “Levee” not only adds another layer of depth to the individual tracks but keeps the album fresh by giving it a new dimension. The aggressive lyrical style reminds us of Bob Dylan while the vocal/guitar interplay is reminiscent of Mark Knopfler. a. Man’s vocals have at times been compared to Leonard Cohen and Tom Waits.

The three songs included here are “White America”, “Underpass” and “Let The Man Talk.” They are good representations of the perspectives explored on the album as well as the overall musical style. To find out more about a. Man and to listen to more tracks from The Republic, please visit www.myspace.com/musicofaman.


White America

Written By: a. Man

Hey, hey, meet the red man
Say you are his friend
Hey, hey, infect the red man
Shoot him down in the end

Drive the red man from his home
Take his land make it your own
Force him to his reservation
Where nothing grows but his frustration

Hey, hey meet the black man
Put him in chains
Hey. hey kidnap the black man
Put him down if he complains

Steal his strength and repress his mind
All so you can make a dime
Buy him, sell him, rape him, kill him
Liberate him then spit upon him

Hey, hey meet the brown man
Lure him in
Hey, hey use the brown man
When you’re done, deport him in shame

Give him the job that will break his back
When it does, just send him back
Keep him illegal, pay minimum wage
A modern day slave without the rage

Oh, White America, what have you done
How can you love God’s only son
While perpetrating every injustice on your fellow man

Oh, white America, what have you done
How can you love God’s only son
While perpetrating every injustice on your fellow man

Let The Man Talk

Written By: a. Man

Let the man talk
He win the war
Yeah, he win the war
On terror, on poverty and on them drugs

Then he drop the bomb
That kill the father
And maim the son
Anger the brother
Make him wanna come
Kill everyone
Including me

Then he build the tank
Used to kill the people
Out on the bank
Anger their brothers
Make’em wanna come
Kill everyone
Including me

Then he drop the tax
Ensure the rich man, yeah
He can relax
Collect the money
That come from the contract
That come from the war
That’s fought by the poor man like me and you

Then he cut the funds
To the school
So he can build more guns
No education
How’s the man on the bottom
Gonna rise to the top
I don’t know

Then he build the gun
It can shoot a thousand
Bullets all at once
Sell it to the gangster man
That rule the ghetto land
And put the drugs
In the young child’s hand

Then he build the wall
Used to keep the poor man down
When he fall
Let the rich man
Enjoy his cocaine
He don’t worry about a thing
Except a slap on the hand

Let the man talk
He win the war
Yeah he win the war
On terror, on poverty and on them drugs


Written By: a. Man

Hey Mister
Let me wash your windshield
I promise you I ain’t gonna bite
You don’t have to lock your door, roll up all your windows
You don’t have crawl inside and hide

Hey Mister
I’m just here tryin’ to make a living
You see me out here every night
And yet you turn away every single time
Am I really such a scary sight

Hey Mister
I understand you ain’t got no change
But if you do, won’t you spare me a bit
I ain’t beggin’ see, I’ll wash your windows
Shine your wheels with my spit

Hey Mister
Don’t you get me wrong
I don’t think you owe me a dime
I’m just askin’, maybe you’ll oblige
I just need a moment of your time

‘Cause Mister
I ain’t got no other skills
I used to be a runner until they shot me down
By the time I woke up, I’d blown my chances
And now I’m sleepin’ on the ground

Now Mister
Yeah, now I gotta save up some dough
I got diagnosed just about a year ago
So you see, it’s not for me, I’m over this hill
But I wanna leave somethin’ for my girl

So Mister
Don’t turn away
‘Cause the roles may reverse some day
And when they do, I promise you
I will not turn away


The Republic - 2008

Set List

Originals include:

Gates of Eden
GW Looks at 60
White America
Cab Drivers, etc.
Pretty Ms. Mona
Eve and Adam