ある男

At its core, "ある男" (Aru Otoko / A Man) is a profound exploration of existential burnout, the deadening weight of routine, and the hard-won journey toward self-realization. Written by Keisuke Soga, the song acts as a psychological portrait of a modern individual trapped in the monotonous, highly structured cycles of contemporary society.

Explicitly, the lyrics describe a man who feels that his life is a pointless exercise in second-guessing his decisions. He lives a mechanically repetitive life—symbolized by the recurring phrase 'sleep, wake up, eat'—where he has suppressed his desires, forgotten his passions, and allowed his mind to go numb. Implicitly, however, the song addresses the concept of existential agency. The protagonist's suffering does not stem from external tragedy, but from a passive surrender to a life designed by others. He has traded his authentic self for safety and correctness, only to find that 'correctness' feels like a grey prison.

The turning point of the song lies in the metaphor of walking. Initially, walking is not a symbol of ambition or goal-oriented progress, but an involuntary biological impulse—the heart demanding that the body survive simply because 'we live because we cannot die'. However, by the final chorus, the protagonist's relationship with his routine shifts. He does not escape his daily life; instead, he reclaims it. The lyrics transition from a passive 'living exactly as told' to a defiant 'I will no longer live as told'. The meaning of the song is thus not a grand triumph over reality, but a quiet, realistic victory: finding the resolve to accept one's past, reconnect with forgotten passions, and live with authentic feelings within the same everyday world.

An overwhelming sense of pointlessness consumes the protagonist as they reflect on a life spent entirely in a state of paralyzing anxiety, constantly questioning if the path they have chosen is the correct one. The passage of time feels utterly monotonous, a dull sequence of events devoid of genuine fulfillment. Even when they manage to uncover a faint spark of motivation or a sense of meaning, they are instantly weighed down by intense emotional suffering, leading them to question whether they even have the right to feel this agony or if it is merely a selfish complaint.

Realizing that they have strayed far from where they wanted to be, they are haunted by the troubling question: where did things go wrong? Their mind feels like it is melting into a thick, unresponsive sludge, completely boxed in by societal expectations and internal stagnation. Yet, amidst this paralyzing state, a physical reality remains: they are still alive. The relentless, pounding rhythm of their heart acts as a desperate internal scream, commanding them to keep moving forward, to keep walking even when there is no destination in sight.

They admit that they only believe in their raw, unadorned feelings, stripping away any superficial pretenses. Because they cannot simply choose to cease existing, they continue to survive. Walking becomes a central, repetitive act of pure survival—walking until their physical body and spirit are completely worn down. They recall a time in their youth when they possessed an insatiable curiosity, a desire to understand the world to their heart's content. However, that curiosity was gradually crushed by the numbing reality of daily life, reduced to a mechanical loop of sleeping, waking, and eating. They had learned to suppress their authentic emotions, forget the things they once passionately loved, and detach their mind entirely just to cope with the heavy burden of existence.

The protagonist acknowledges that they have forgotten almost everything that made them feel human. They reflect on how fleeting and short-lived joy truly is, while the memories of unattainable dreams and failures remain permanently branded in their mind. Up until this moment, the entire world has appeared in shades of absolute grey. Since they cannot blame anyone else for their circumstances, the pain is entirely internalized, driving them to curse their own self. Yet, despite this self-directed anger, the stubborn, unceasing heartbeat refuses to let them stop. The final portion of the song shifts from despair to quiet resolve. The protagonist decides that they will no longer live merely as they are told. While the mechanical routine of sleeping, waking, and eating remains the same, they choose to reclaim their true emotions, remember what they once loved, and finally accept and honor the life they have lived up until today.

"ある男" represents a monumental milestone for the Japanese 4-piece rock band AHUB (also known as エイハブ), serving as their official major debut single under the prominent label TOY'S FACTORY. The song was written and composed by the band's bassist and chief songwriter, Keisuke Soga, who also operates as a prominent Vocaloid producer.

The song was released in two parallel versions almost simultaneously in late November 2024. The human vocal 'band version,' featuring the powerful, emotive vocal delivery of AHUB's front-man Kageyama Shun, premiered on November 20, 2024. Just one day later, on November 21, 2024, Soga released the Vocaloid version of the track featuring Kagamine Len. Both versions featured striking, hand-drawn anime MV visuals created by the illustrator and animator Era Kokiu (エラハイコ), whose bleak yet dynamic art style perfectly mirrored the song's themes of existential isolation. The audio was mixed and mastered by the acclaimed engineer Keisuke Fujimaki.

Following its release, the band version of the song became a viral sensation, quickly surpassing 4 million views on YouTube and solidifying AHUB's position as a major rising force in the 'net-generation' Japanese indie rock scene. The song was later featured as a central piece of their conceptual debut studio album, "UMANITY", released on April 2, 2025, which revolves around a fictional program tracking a man's psychological journey toward learning to genuinely love and care for others.

The song's rhyme scheme is fluid and unconventional, characteristic of modern Japanese indie rock. Rather than relying on strict Western-style end rhymes, the lyrics utilize natural Japanese vowel assonance and structural parallelism to create rhythm:

• Opening Assonance: The opening lines play with the rhyme and rhythm of informal contractions. 'Kudannee' (下んねぇ) matches the rhythmic delivery and phonetic structure of 'Tsumannee' (つまんねぇ), establishing an immediate casual, bitter, and direct tone.
• Urgent Phrasing and Syncopation: The vocal phrasing is heavily syncopated, mimicking the erratic, anxious thoughts of the protagonist. The vocal lines often rush ahead of the beat, particularly during the fast-paced verses, creating a sense of urgency and breathlessness.
• A March-Like Tempo: The tempo is moderately fast but feels heavy, driven by a solid, grounding bassline and drums that emphasize the downbeat. This creates a rhythmic 'march-like' pace. The rhythm of the lyric 'Aruite, aruite...' is perfectly locked with the drum beat, making the physical act of walking feel tangible and grueling to the listener, effectively bridging the lyrical rhythm and the musical rhythm.

Literally and musically, AHUB employs several striking techniques to mirror the song's psychological tension:

• Vocal Delivery and Dynamics: In the band version, vocalist Kageyama Shun delivers the lyrics with a gritty, conversational, yet highly desperate tone. He blends colloquial Japanese slang (such as 'kudannee' for pointless or trashy, and 'tsumannee' for boring) with explosive, strained high notes in the chorus, conveying an authentic sense of frustration and raw humanity. In contrast, the Vocaloid version utilizing Kagamine Len features a cold, synthesized delivery that emphasizes the theme of mechanical alienation.
• Rhythmic Footsteps in the Instrumentation: The instrumental arrangement includes a highly deliberate, repetitive rhythmic pattern that mimics the sound of heavy, trudging footsteps. This constant rhythm creates a hypnotic, march-like feel, reinforcing the core metaphor of walking.
• Colloquialism and Slang: The lyricist Keisuke Soga intentionally uses rough, informal Japanese. Expressions like 'そうさ' (sou sa - that's right) carry an assertive, defiant attitude. This colloquial style strips the song of poetic pretension, making the existential crisis feel incredibly modern, immediate, and relatable.
• Repetition as Structure: The lyrical structure relies heavily on the frantic repetition of specific words ('aruite, aruite...') and the cyclical structure of the verses, reinforcing the inescapable loop of the protagonist's daily life.
• Post-Rock Dynamics: The musical arrangement utilizes typical post-rock and indie rock dynamics, shifting from quiet, bass-driven, spoken-word-like verses to explosive, guitar-driven choruses. The sudden wall of sound during the chorus acts as the musical equivalent of an emotional breakthrough or a panic attack.

Since its release in late 2024, 'ある男' has established itself as AHUB's signature song and a defining anthem for the modern 'net-generation' of Japanese listeners. Surpassing 4 million views on YouTube, the song struck a powerful chord with young people experiencing seasonal burnout or the general exhaustion of entering the rigid Japanese workforce.

The simultaneous release of both the human band version and the Vocaloid version (featuring Kagamine Len) allowed the song to bridge two vibrant communities: the traditional indie rock audience and the Vocaloid/utattemita community. The song's iconic visual imagery, created by Era Kokiu, has inspired numerous fan arts and lyric videos across platforms like TikTok and YouTube. Its raw, honest portrayal of mental health and existential exhaustion has led critics to praise AHUB for their ability to romanticize the struggles of ordinary, 'clumsy' individuals without offering shallow, unrealistic solutions. It remains the centerpiece of their highly acclaimed concept album 'UMANITY'.

The song is rich with symbolic imagery that deepens its psychological impact:

• Walking (歩く - Aruku): Throughout the song, walking acts as the central metaphor. Unlike typical motivational songs where walking represents a journey toward a grand goal or dream, in 'ある男', it represents the baseline of survival. The protagonist walks not because he is ambitious, but because stopping is equivalent to giving up entirely. The relentless repetition of the word 'Aruite' (walk) emphasizes the grueling, exhausting effort required just to exist.
• 'Sleep, Wake Up, Eat' (寝て、起きて、メシ食って): This phrase symbolizes the mechanical, animalistic nature of modern routine. It represents the loss of human agency, where one is reduced to basic biological functions. In the first half, it represents a prison of conformity. In the second half, however, the repetition of this same phrase represents a reclamation of the mundane; the actions remain the same, but the internal attitude shifts to one of active choice.
• The Beating Heart (鳴り止まない心臓): The heart is portrayed not as a romantic symbol of passion, but as a loud, demanding biological clock that forces the protagonist to keep moving. It is an 'inner voice' or survival instinct that refuses to let him succumb to his desire to fade away.
• Melting Sludge (どろどろ溶けた脳): A visceral metaphor representing cognitive decay and dissociation. It illustrates how the numbness of routine literally rots one's intellect and emotional capacity, leaving the protagonist feeling like an unthinking, hollow shell.
• The Grey Color (灰色): Symbolizes the complete lack of emotional contrast, joy, or excitement in a life lived safely but untruthfully, where both failure and success lose their meaning.

Several key lyrical and musical motifs unify 'ある男':

• 'Aruite, aruite...' (Walk, walk...): Repeated seven times in a row during the post-chorus. This motif represents the relentless grind of survival. In the first instance, it ends with the protagonist stating they have 'tired themselves out'. In the second instance, it resolves with the realization that they are allowed to 'take pride in how far they have walked'. This variation signifies a crucial emotional shift from exhaustion to self-acceptance.
• 'Nete, okite, meshi kutte...' (Sleep, wake up, eat...): Repeated like a mechanical, numbing mantra. This lyrical motif encapsulates the crushing weight of mundane existence. The genius of this motif is its subtle lyrical shift at the end of the song: in the first verse, it ends with 'living exactly as told' (iwareta mama ikite), whereas in the final verse, it changes to 'I will no longer live as told' (mou iwareta mama ikine), transforming the motif from a symbol of defeat into a declaration of independence.
• 'Sore demo nao boku wa ikite ita' (Even so, I was still alive): A recurring realization that highlights the persistent survival instinct that exists beneath all of the protagonist's despair and self-doubt. It acts as a structural anchor, reminding the listener of the core driving force of the narrative.