Andrew Kreider

Andrew Kreider

BandPopAdult Contemporary

Singer-songwriter Andrew Kreider brings his poet’s eye and trademark “transatlantic drawl” to his folk-blues driven songs - a soul-satisfying mixture of spiritual musings, love ballads and raised eyebrows at the complexities of life.


Andrew Kreider was born and raised in London, England, growing up caught between the sounds of the English “folk-baroque” scene and new wave musician poets like Elvis Costello. Throw in the influence of Canadians Joni Mitchell and Bruce Cockburn, then stir in the upheaval of a move Midwestern Indiana in his 20s, and you get the fertile soil for some first-class songwriting with a “transatlantic drawl.”

Kreider splits his time between pastoring a Mennonite church in Elkhart, IN, and writing and performing his music. And while he doesn’t explicitly identify himself as a “Christian artist,” his deep Christian faith lies at the heart of his work. Kreider intentionally refers to himself as a "bi-vocational musician" - a poet and pastor who finds joy in addressing the spiritual alongside the remarkable and the banal in everyday life.

The songs on “Firebrands and Golden Strands” - his most recent CD - were all written in the summer of 2005, documenting a three-month sabbatical trip from Switzerland to Austin, TX, via New England and Nova Scotia. By turns witty, spiritual and poignant, Kreider turns his poet’s eye on everything from the soil in a monastery garden to the moon shining through a hotel window, from his failed attempts at self-improvement to a mass arrival of ancient Greeks at a small-town airport. He moves stylistically from folk and country ballads to rock to spare solo numbers, always centering on his voice and guitar.

With strong melodies, carefully crafted lyrics and understated playing, Kreider’s songs reward repeated listening.


I have seen the Lord

Written By: Andrew Kreider

Like a deer that’s turned to granite
In the headlights’ coming glare
I have seen the Lord
Like a cow in a tornado,
Doing cartwheels in the air
I have seen the Lord
Like a moth who flew too near the lamp
And burned his hairy derriere
I have seen the Lord.

I have seen the Lord. (x4)

Like a young man after his first kiss
Gets those stars behind his eyes
I have seen the Lord
Like a love-sick father’s lost son
Finally coming over the rise
I have seen the Lord
Like a good wife takes her man
And then she gently cuts him down to size
I have seen the Lord

From my toes up to my fingers
In my mind and in my senses
I have seen the Lord
In the billows of my laughter
In the tears of bitter joy
I have seen the Lord
In the swinging of the hinges
In the silence of his presence
I have seen the Lord

Hmmm… I have seen the Lord
Sitting on his throne
And the temple
Was filled with his glory.


Written By: Andrew Kreider

Paris in winter
Is colder than ice
We arrived with our love on the rocks
Too young to drink
But old enough to bear
The weight of our question

When you love at long-distance
There comes a time to decide
Will you break up
or seal your commitment?
A weekend together
Seemed good at the time
To help us say what we both wanted

Oh, how we danced
How we danced with the moon up above
Stumbling and tumbling
And stumbling again
The Parisian waltz of our love.

We walked to Emmaus
On the Champs-Elysées
Talking in circles, not seeing
No tour-guide beside us
To show us the way
But still our hearts were burning.

We sat by the river
And tested our depths
Could we put out the fire deep within us
The future arising
Like smoke from our lips
Till debating drove us to silence

Oh, how we danced
How we danced with the moon up above
Stumbling and tumbling
And stumbling again
The Parisian waltz of our love.

The walls of the buildings
Had fingers that grabbed
Pressing inwards
Urging onwards
This is the city of love…
This is the city of love…
This is the city of love…

At one in the morning
On New Year’s Eve eve
You smiled as you birthed the request
I asked you the same
We counted to three
And said:
Yes… Yes… Yes…

Oh, how we danced
How we danced with the moon up above
Stumbling and tumbling
And stumbling again
The Parisian waltz of our love.

Lai, lai, lai, lai…

Greek to me

Written By: Andrew Kreider

Well all those ancient historians
Would have been so glad the other night
I was at the airport
And it was like a field-trip
from some book you dusted off in seventh grade
They’re all sitting there
Waiting for a plane to arrive

Old Socrates sitting in a corner
Pretty in pink
Called me over
Methodically extended an ice-cold tankard
And said, “Hey, son, have a drink.”
Said: “Here’s something to take the edge off while you wait.”
I said, “No, man, I’m good, I don’t do that stuff.”

Heplock, hemlock, deadlock, brainlock
It’s all Greek to me
That’s right – yeah, it’s all Greek to me.

Well old Paul the holy apostle
He’s standing over by the baggage claim
Trying to sell someone a tent
He’s taking an unfathomable interest in the stonework around the conveyor belt
He seems kind of out of place
What with his stutter and that weird thorn-thing sticking out of his ankle
And he seems really concerned that everyone’s misinterpreted the things he said about women.
He says, “You know, I never said half the stuff they think I said.
It’s just how the translators did their work.”

I say, “Galatians, Ephesians, Philippians, Colossians.
Sorry man, it’s all Greek to me.”
Huh-huh…It’s all Greek to me.

Well Nero’s sitting in the restaurant
Watching the NBA Finals
The closest thing he could find to a circus, spoiled brat.
He’s ordering another round at the bar
(And) He lets me pick up the tab
He pulls out a violin case
He says, “Do you like music? Well, so do I. Let’s fiddle while the sparks fly!”

Roman master, meet the pastor
Playin faster
Hey man, I got a Stratocaster.

It’s all Greek to me – huh, huh.
You know, it’s all Greek to me.

You know, old John the Baptist
He’s all done up in his camel hair and belt
He’s got a tray of hors d’oeuvres
And he’s trying to hawk them to people outside, telling them about the end of the world.
He’s got locusts and honey
And some other really bizzarre-looking stuff on rye Triscuits.
He looks me in the eye and he says,
“You watch a girl dance,
It’ll go right to your head.”
I say, “Man, you’ve got no idea what you just said.”

Seven veils, happy trails
Hairy males, No this ain’t Veggie Tales.

It’s all Greek to me.

And over our heads, all hell breaks loose on the TV monitors.
Bill Haley’s fighting it out with Bill O’Reilly Who’s trying to tell me about some girl that got abducted and what they did or didn’t do to her.
And meanwhile, Rupert Murdoch,
somewhere on a yacht,
is tightening his grip on the captive audiences.
Popping olives like they were something stronger.

Socrates, Nero, John and Paul
After all these years haven’t we learned at all?

Politics, idee-fixe, get the latest pics
GOP, DNC, you think it really matters to me?
Deep Throat, what they wrote, really got your goat.
Filibuster, willie-duster, power-luster, Paternoster

It’s all Greek to me – huh-huh (x5)

Pear Shaped

Written By: Andrew Kreider

You may have seen me looking
Mighty grumpy
On days when I put on
My suit and tie
That cut just doesn’t flatter
My circumference
My belly wants to jail-break
From inside.

My wife decided
On an intervention
She bought me threads
That fit more comfortably
She told me, you’re a winner
Don’t want you any thinner
Come on and hold that
Body close to me

I’m going pear-shaped
There’s more of me to love now
Praise the Lord.
I’m not afraid
Of being middle-aged
In fact, these are the
Best years of my life.

Some women like their
Men-folk mighty skinny
Some guys prefer their ladies
But those poor folks are missing
The best spots to start kissing
Cause getting curves is
Where the fun begins.

I’m going pear-shaped…

OK, my bits are spreading in the middle
Or shriveled like a grape
My banana split
Won’t make the girls go ape (Oo-oo-oooh)
But out of this great fruit bowl of life
I’ve got me a size that suits me right
Better than an apple
Better than an orange
Baby, I got a pear… shape

When I was younger
Didn’t know just what love was
Used to treat it
Like it was a race
But now I’m getting bigger
My pace is getting slower
And we’re enjoying
Every base.

I’m going pear-shaped…


Great White (2001)
Sing Something Pretty (2004)
Firebrands and Golden Strands (2005)

Set List

Typically, two 45 minute sets with a break. Almost all originals, except for a couple of traditional folk or blues songs.

Set list:
Dear John
My car won’t go
See for miles
Puppy love
Bricks without straw
In the evening
Self-help and satisfaction
Our souls are soil
My life is in your hands
Greek to me

Drop kick me, Jesus
Get ready
I have seen the Lord
A cord with three strands
Great white
The man
Half moon over Austin
Platform No. 9

Back off
You and me
Who is so great
Jesus dances where the wild things are