"Under conditions of national emergency, like now, there are only two kinds of people – those who work for freedom and those who do not… the good guys vs. the bad guys." -Mc D.



  1. Outlaw (5:00)
  2. Sagittarius Red (3:03)
  3. Welfare City (2:52)
  4. Silent Majority (4:10)
  5. Love Letter To America (3:57)
  6. Unspoken Dreams Of Light (6:40)
  7. Cherrystones (3:08)
  8. Reverend Lee (6:31)
  9. Black Boy (2:59)

Atlantic Records, 1970

  • McD. – vocal
  • Eric Weissberg, Hugh McKracken – guitar
  • Mother Hen – piano
  • Ron Carter – bass
  • Buck Clarke – percussion
  • Ray Lucas – drums

"For those expecting the McDaniels of 'A Hundred Pounds of Clay,' they might have been surprised by the opening and title track on Outlaw, when he sings 'she’s a nigger in jeans…' leading the Washington Post to suggest, after catching a few of McDaniels’ sets at Washington DC’s legendary Mr. Henry’s in June of 1970, that his 'songs are filled with words and imagery that some may find difficult to take, but they concern some of the most important issues of our time.'  McDaniels had no illusions about the shift in focus of his musical career: 'I’m not out here to make any money.  I’m out here to have some fun and tell the truth.'"
 -Mark Anthony Neal, Professor of African & African-American Studies at Duke University



Eugene performing at the Angela Davis fundraiser
on The Mall in Washington DC

Note the newspaper headline in the foreground: "Rising Anti-War Tide Surges Toward Oct. 13."


Eugene in 2002 to Pat Thomas, author
"Listen Whitey, The Sights and Sounds of Black Power 1965-1975”

“I don’t know of anyone, other than the people you mention, who recorded songs from Outlaw or [the follow up album] Headless Heroes of the Apocalypse. I must have really fucked people up, ‘cause nobody would touch it with a ten-foot pole. I really either fucked up or I hit a nerve in the country, not really sure which. And I don’t really care...Amongst the rest of the populace, I’m sort of persona non grata as far as these recordings are concerned. My witness protection name is Bill Clinton.”

Gene continues; “The statement on the back of album; ‘Under conditions of national emergency like now, there are only two kinds of people – those who work for freedom, and those who do not…good guys versus the bad guys.’ That still says it for me, because that’s where we are thirty years later. They’re still trying to take over the country and they’re much closer to doing it now than they were then.” 

He closes with; “With the narcissists running the show, we’ve got a heavy fight ahead of us to retain our freedoms.” 




The silent majority
Is calling out to you and me
I said the silent
Yeah, yeah, yeah majority
Is calling out to you and me

Silent majority
Is calling out loud to you and me
From Arlington Cemetery
To stand up tall for humanity
To heed the call to democracy, yeah

Silent majority
Gathering around the hanging tree
Negative voices in unity
Creating souls of immunity
Ignoring the call to humanity

Silent majority
Stuffing their faces with pastry
Children are dying in poverty
Fear lives in the land of liberty
And justice is a phrase of fantasy

Silent majority
Lining their feelings with currency
Capital gains remains a mystery
Ask them if they care and they laugh at me
Where is your love for humanity

Silent majority
With a lifestyle tempo of one and three
Two and four lives for my friends and me
When your mind is open then your body is free
Two and four against one and three now

Silent majority
Not so silent far as I can see
War in, war out, they peddle Christmas trees
Gaggin' on their own hypocrisies
Death comes round, you find them on their knees, yeah

Vocal minority
Heeding the lessons of history
Knowing the logical choice to be
To stand up tall for democracy
To heed the call to humanity
Yeah, yeah, yeah

original album version


Eddie Harris & Eugene Perform Live at Newport jazz festival


Love Letter To America

Hey America, 
You could have had it anyway you wanted it, 
You could have been a real democracy, 
You could have been free, oh—. 

Hey America, 
You could have had me for your friend and not your enemy, 
Thru your perversion you insist I have to be your enemy
I could have loved you more than you will ever know, 
You are my homeland, oh—.

Hey America, 
The only thing you respect is violence, now.
You’ve lost the gift of love, 
Don’t ask me how. 
Hey America, 
I need to love you more than
You could know, 
I’d give my life if I could save your soul, 
But you’ve grown old and can’t change, 
Cold in your heart and I’m sad, sad. 




Venture with me in the uncharted sea of the Unspoken Dreams of Light
Speak you not of genocide, Indians have yet to hide. 
Time will come when death will ride a mean and bloody train,
from the smog filled coast of California to the rock strewn coast of Maine.

Massive blackey whitey clouds collide on winds of change to sound the thunder heard across the land, I know
Children of the light must hate the night in order to redeem the skeletons of blood-stained hand that show
Legions of the Christian hordes conspire to suck away the brains of children of the dark again, I know
Lips that whisper love can scream the hate for those so fortunate as not to be encased in habit stance through time
Rationales of higher up where elevators cruise the clouds conclude that Satan's children are not bright sometimes
Rationalees hear the act of cries of wolf and hope that justice will prevail in new breed light in time.

Nervous breakdowns crowd the calendar of freedom when reality is forced upon the non-believer’s ego plan
Criticizers from the handing cliffs of plenty laugh to see the fall of those who would remain in honest lands
Clairvoyants strive to see the plans of those who need to know what lies beyond the sea and tree of life
Tittilators of the masses do the dance of death before the eyes of die-ers doing dances of their own, you see
Wishers crawl through catacombs of fantasy where Jesus is the victim of the scientific age of man, huh, huh
Pretenders to the stolen throne of rock would lock the door of justice with the age-old key of greed again. 

Daggers seeking blood have captured hearts of man by making sweet the thrill of killing other men in battle
Ill-gotten gains of war are wearing thin the theory of the democratic life strictly conceived by cattle
Rumbling stomachs of the light enflame suspicions of the peaceful life way, way, way beyond the dollar bill
Beasts of blue reveal conditions of the courts of men in black who blow their minds for light at will
Game for game the light protrudes on rights of men around the ball of blue that hangs way out in space and time
Leading ladies stealing wives of men whose lives reject the truth of starving children across the tracks of mine. 

Venture with me in the uncharted sea of the Unspoken Dreams of Light
Speak you not of genocide, Indians have yet to hide. 
Time will come when death will ride a mean and bloody train,
from the smog filled coast of California to the rock strewn coast of Maine.