There’s something profoundly moving about an artist who chooses silence over noise, clarity over chaos.
Daniel Nwosu Jr., better known as Dax, made exactly that choice when he promised himself he wouldn’t release new music until he achieved six months of sobriety.
The result? “Man I Used To Be” – a track that feels like watching someone rebuild themselves note by note.
The Canadian-Nigerian rapper, who once worked as a janitor while developing his craft at Newman University, has always been known for his razor-sharp lyricism and hard-hitting hip-hop delivery.
But this single represents something entirely different. Gone are the rapid-fire verses that made tracks like “Dear Alcohol” platinum-certified hits.
Instead, we get Dax the vocalist, Dax the soul singer, Dax the human being stripped of all pretence.
Dax has made something that feels both personal and big while working with producer Jimmy Robbins in Nashville. The guitar, bass, and drums play softly against each other, which lets his voice breathe and bend in ways we have not heard before.
The background voices give the track some complexity without being too much, like how watercolours blend together on wet paper.
Dax possesses a vocal timbre that carries weight – not just technical skill, but emotional heft.
When he sings about the person he used to be, you can hear the distance he’s travelled, the battles fought in quiet moments away from microphones and stages. This isn’t performance; it’s confession.
This single arrives as Dax prepares for his “Lonely Dirt Road Tour” scheduled for late October. The title itself suggests a certain solitude, a willingness to walk paths that others might avoid.
There’s poetry in that image – the lonely dirt road as metaphor for recovery, for artistic growth, for the space between who we were and who we’re becoming.
Dax’s decision to wait, to sit with his sobriety before creating, speaks to an artistic maturity that’s rare in today’s instant-gratification music industry.
In a culture that often rewards quantity over quality, speed over substance, he chose patience. He chose clarity. The result validates that choice completely.
The song operates in that sweet spot between R&B and soul, genres that have always demanded authenticity above all else. You can’t fake your way through soul music – the genre has a built-in lie detector.
Dax passes that test with flying colours, delivering a performance that feels lived-in, earned through experience rather than manufactured in a studio.
“Man I Used To Be” succeeds because it refuses to explain itself. It simply exists, honest and unadorned, letting the music and the message speak for themselves. In an era of overproduction and overthinking, sometimes the most radical act is simplicity.
Dax has given us something rare: a song that feels necessary, born from genuine experience rather than market research.
As he prepares to take this music on the road, one can only imagine the power these songs will carry in live performance, where vulnerability meets community in the shared space of understanding.
