By William Kerns
Andy Eppler can be depended upon for a good quote and a good lyric.
Supporters and merely curious music lovers almost certainly will hear plenty of both when Eppler headlines a CD-release concert Saturday at the Tornado Gallery, 1822 Buddy Holly Ave.
Don’t be surprised if he performs all 12 original tunes from new recording “Long and Lonesome Way.”
A prolific composer who handles all of his recording on the home front, Eppler says he already has written and recorded about 240 songs.
His liner notes include, “I feel that I am ending a chapter in my life and beginning a new one, and so I wanted to record fully actualized versions of the songs that I feel have defined my art thus far.”
One thing has not changed. It doesn’t matter whether a composition offers a more concise statement or becomes a full-fledged story. Eppler finds a way to extend each effort regardless, taking off on instrumental tangents before always returning to the most defining stanza or chorus.
Even taking into account his commitment to rhyme, Eppler willingly juggles darker subjects and memories with the few songs that speak of relationships — whether with women, with the land and, at the end, with Lubbock.
Musically speaking, “The One That Got Away” is impossible not to like. Eppler speaks for many (and certainly beyond his age) when he opens with a philosophical look at those who wind up placing an early relationship on a later pedestal.
His view of women he became involved with later may strike some as harsh (he calls them “dirt”). And despite another terrific pop hook in his own “My Peggy Sue” chorus, this is one of many tunes speaking to the “lonely” in the CD title.
“But I let her go and I lost my direction,
Stumbling in the dark and the haze.
The rest are dirt compared to her perfection.
And how I wish I’d never let her go.”
Consider the darker character who arrives in “Maria,” which opens with, “Went through your mailbox/That’s how I learned your name.”
In fact, Eppler gives voice to a stalker, and the song becomes more eerie as the singer expresses feelings of betrayal while the chorus, which has a truly pleasant hook, is actually threatening if one listens closely.
I like to have lyrics in hand or nearby when listening to certain artists, including Eppler. He is a writer who consistently takes chances, but then, I also recall his quote: “You cannot call yourself an artist if you’re a cover band. You’re just a jukebox. ... Let’s not call something art that isn’t.”
Eppler’s “The First One Is Always Free,” for example, provides a rare danger within the traditional one-night stand, and a strange reason to treat every night like it may be your last.
He sings of a first and last date, given away with “Wrapped up in cellophane. in a bathtub of melting ice, All to escape the pain of a trespassing lover’s vice.”
Eppler is married to musician Jessica, who plays piano on two songs on “Long and Lonely Road.” But if one is seeking more traditional love songs, this CD refuses to play fair.
There is a reason the miniature figure on the CD’s cool cover, painted to resemble Eppler, is always seated alone.
The pace, the beat, the rhythm — these all differ. But on “Notion of a Mad Man,” Eppler makes the mistake of showing off vocabulary — really Andy, an acquiescent dream? — then defines lost love beautifully with such metaphors as “changing winds of springtime” and “hopelessness of fall.”
Smiles only inspire questions.
“I Don’t Believe” finds Eppler taking a stark vocal approach as the singer represents a person who needs to accept the loss of a cheating partner, while silently hoping she will come back.
I suppose “I’m No Devil” could be that one tune with a happier ending, provided sex is not mistaken for love. (“Forget the beginning and get with the sinnin’.”)
Changing moods, Eppler’s past success with “The Kelly Boys” comes to mind when he maintains his folk status with the comfortable delivery of folk-pop story song “Bad Man.” The cadence involves the listener, creating mental pictures at the same time.
The CD’s two biggest standouts are “Horizon Road” and “Lubbock, Texas.”
The former is the best written tune, partly because it is the least obvious. Eppler’s vocal arrangement commands attention while instrumentation is kept simple.
Once again, he forces listeners to take sides.
“Lubbock, Texas” might have been a kiss-off farewell from the singer-songwriter who felt he had earned more attention is his hometown, telling interviewer Chris Oglesby, ”I just think Lubbock needs to love its musicians as much as I think the musicians love Lubbock.”
Having decided to turn his own back on Lubbock, moving to Colorado, Eppler discovered his roots run surprisingly deep.
Early versions of “Lubbock, Texas” came across as bitter, a vocal last word by someone who sadly had concluded that musical respect in Lubbock was reserved for those named Maines, a reference to the Maines Brothers Band and Natalie Maines.
His decision to involve Don Caldwell and Kenny Maines in a final recording session grants the song a needed sense of humor, and clears away dark clouds to reveal a sing-along tune that leaves room for the city to one day respond when he musically asks, “Why don’t you kiss me, Lubbock, Texas?”
It’s a potential sing-along that will earn varied smiles, and a song that probably will make more people recognize Eppler’s name. Don’t think that wasn’t his intention all along.
