One​-​Way Moon

by Book Club

supported by
/
  • Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

     $9 USD  or more

     

  • Record/Vinyl

    Milky Clear Vinyl with Black Splatter, in a matte laminated jacket with Gold Foil, hand-numbered, and complete with lyric/liner note insert and download. Limited to Edition of 250.

    Includes unlimited streaming of One-Way Moon via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 4 days
    edition of 250 

     $20 USD or more

     

  • New Limited Edition, gold-foiled hand-numbered colored vinyl LP (with liner notes), and one Tshirt OR tote in the "book club leaf" or "bird sketch" design, on american apparel tees.
    ships out within 4 days

     $35 USD or more

     

  • T-Shirt/Apparel

    Leaf Font with Gold printed on American Apparel. Beautiful!
    ships out within 4 days

     $20 USD or more

     

  • T-Shirt/Apparel

    Designed by Atlanta artist Meta Gary. Printed on amazing American Apparel eco tees.
    ships out within 4 days

     $20 USD or more

     

  • Compact Disc (CD)

    Limited to 100 units. Comes in a recycled arigato Stumptown case, screenprinted by hand by Factory Press in Atlanta.

    Includes unlimited streaming of One-Way Moon via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 4 days

     $10 USD or more

     

1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.

about

There’s a wistful, unpretentious elegance to Book Club’s sound. At once urbane and downhome, this is modern pastoral pop music that—in sound and spirit—can trace a straight line back to the simple, unaffected roots of American storysong. It’s where Johnny and June meets Lou Reed & Nico, trading twilight songs born of vacant, mostly forgotten kudzu-covered city lots, the spare, arresting two-part harmonies echoing all the way from the Georgia Piedmont to Tin Pan Alley and back again.

On Book Club’s new LP, One-Way Moon (out Feb. 17 via Cottage Recording Co./Bear Kids Recordings), frontman/songwriter Robbie Horlick practices introspection without navel-gazing, his wounded warble trickling like creekwater past the strum of the nylon six-string and the pluck of the banjo, cascading over daydreamy piano and the breathy moan of bow on strings. Further downstream, his vocal melodies empty into a crystal pool where they swirl gently, endlessly, around the wholesome, charmingly demure voice of harmony singer Rachel Buckley. The whole affair is a dazzling exercise in restraint—a stripped-bare, acoustic album where what you don’t hear is just as important as what you do.

***

“The band’s downhome Americana and country-infused pop shines through.” - Paste

“Soft strings and delicate harmonies … there’s a narrative weightiness and a pastoral simplicity to their sound.” - CMJ

“Pairs heartwrenching lyrics with rich, gorgeous melodies making it haunting and wintery. We’ll have this one on repeat.” - NYLON

“Sparse singer/songwriter fare that expands into lush folk-pop gems. Fans of She & Him, Bonnie 'Prince' Billy, The Dutchess & The Duke, Patsy Cline, The Carter Family and Iron & Wine will find a few things to love within these sonic walls.” - My Old Kentucky Blog

"Every bit as country as folk, and every bit as rural pop as it is raw American music. No pork pie hats or corny Great Gatsby get-ups, just well-written and infectious melodies coupled with honest songwriting.” - No Depression

“Book Club's simplicity is both endearing and purposeful, leaving room for the lyrics and vocal interplay to shine. There’s no need to cover up your songwriting when it’s this spot on.” - Austin Town Hall

“☆☆☆☆ … These fine purveyors of folk-tinged indie tunes effortlessly blend well-thought-out emotional lyrics, catchy and haunting melodies, impeccable harmonies and just the right amount of country twang.” - Atlanta Music Guide

“Modern pastoral pop music that can trace a straight line back to the simple, unaffected roots of American story-song.” - Verbicide

“Playful yet elegant … ready to captivate audiences with their beautiful, haunting musings.” - Latest Disgrace

***

credits

released 17 February 2015

Rachel Buckley: Vocals
Robbie Horlick: Vocals, Guitar, Glockenspiel
Matt Jarrard: Cello
Todd Kerstetter: Bass
Joseph War: Drums, Percussion, Vocals

Featuring:
Will Raines; Piano, Organ, Violin, Vibraphone
Troy Stains: Banjo, Harmonium, Electric Guitar

All songs written by Robbie Horlick (BMI), except "Fallen Leaves", written by Joseph War (BMI). Copyright Book Club 2014.

Recorded by Matt Goldman at Glow in the Dark Studios, Atlanta, GA.
Mixed by Luciano Giarrano and Damon Moon at The Cottage, Atlanta, GA.
Mastered by Joel Hatstat at Joel Hatstat Audio, Athens, GA.
Album Design and Illustration by Rachel Horlick

tags

license

all rights reserved

feeds

feeds for this album, this artist
Track Name: I Don't Need To Travel
I hear Denver Colorado is a place that I should go,
but I don't need to travel, I feel out of place at home.

I hear San Francisco city has a lovely endless bay.
I hear some people tell me I should really get away.

I hear there's people living out on riverboats and cars,
so I don't need to travel, when I always feel so far away.

No, I don't need to travel. Away, no, I don't need to travel.

It's been said that there are people asking questions every day.
It's been said that answers are as often told as they're obeyed.
It's been said that life's a journey and it's not a place you stay,
so I don't need to travel when I always feel so far away.

No, I don't need to travel. Away, no, I don't need to travel.

It's been said a picture's worth a thousand words.
It's been said a thousand words are worth your two cents.
It's been said it doesn't matter where you go and there you are,
so I don't need to travel when I always feel so far away.

No, I don't need to travel. Away, no, I don't need to travel.

I hear Denver Colorado is a place that I should go.
Track Name: Boomerangs And Bedroom Eyes
How can I tell you what I just don't know?
I'm not hiding anything, I just can't see what won't show.
And I don't think it's fair to accuse a withholding.
You have no idea what you've no idea of knowing.
It's not fair calling what I do
a Country Song or an attitude.
It's as much a reaction as it is a mood.
Not to mention the fact it shifts all blame from you.

Two-way streets and double-sided knives.
Boomerangs and Bedroom Eyes.
Some return and some can lie.
Boomerangs and Bedroom Eyes.

How can I tell you what I just don't know?
I'm not hiding anything, I just can't see what won't show.
And I don't think it's fair to accuse a withholding.
You have no idea what you've no idea of knowing.

Two-way streets and double-sided knives.
Boomerangs and Bedroom Eyes.
Some return and some can lie.
Boomerangs and Bedroom Eyes.

I'm not saying you're a target,
but you're not bulletproof.

Two way streets and double-sided knives.
Boomerangs and Bedroom Eyes.
Some return and some can lie.
Boomerangs and Bedroom Eyes.
Track Name: You Say It So Glacial
You, you say it so glacial, like Mars or the Moon.
Another world sometimes, in your room.
For thousands of birthdays, thousands of bloods,
another world sometimes, under your head.

Slow like volcanos, you turn and define
your position on something
that was on your mind.

A channel to somewhere, a stitch or a tear.
Another world sometimes, and you're not even there.
A channel to somewhere, a stitch or a tear.
Another world sometimes, and you're not even there.

It's steam sometimes, what comes out of your mouth.
I never know when I'll see you go.
It's steam sometimes, what comes out of your mouth.
I never know when I'll see you go.
Track Name: How Will You Know, Dear?
How will you know?
How will you know, dear?
How will you know if it's true?
How will you know?
How will you know, dear?
How will you know, will you?
I will not go,
I will not go there.
I will not go there with you.
With your red hair,
with your red hair, dear,
I will not go there, will you?
Track Name: The Way It Seems
The way it seems,
you ain't got nothing on nobody's dreams.
You ain't got nothing to worry, 'cept the
scenes you'd have me doubt.
Out, to the middle of the night,
you'd have no way to fuss and fight
without me. Whacha gonna do about me?
Oh, I'm asking you right now.

You got a way of saying nothing's wrong.
You got a way of being home when no one's there.
You got a way of saying nothing's wrong.
You got a way of being home when you're not there.

Oh, I don't want a friend right now, I just wanna know.
I don't want a friend right now, I just wanna know.
Track Name: Mostly Lonely
When the tides are high, the wake is tall.
The crest above the water's tail.
When the sun is bright it's hard to see
just how dark it might actually be.

When it looks a gleam, a squinted bright,
a glint of something in the night.
When you say, but you really seemed alright,
proving you wrong brings a dark delight.

Mostly lonely, is it that hard to see?
Mostly lonely, is it that hard to see?

Well it might seem a seething carousel,
a spinning twist of light and bells.
It might seem a fountain pouring mean,
but truth be told, it's mostly bleak.

Mostly lonely, is it that hard to see?
Mostly lonely, is it that hard to see?
Track Name: Fallen Leaves
Ravens. Black like night they heat up in the light.
Quarter rests call loudly on the line.
You will sing again bird don't you cry.
Erlene. Goodnight Erlene, I'll see you in my dreams.
A lucid dream where you appear to me.
Your ghost always wakes me in my sleep.

Fallen Leaves. Dead confetti tumbling up from the ground.

We all die. Life will end and that you can't defend.
But how or when we can discuss to no end.
The hardest marble crumbles when it's penned.
Amen.

Find your faith, pry out your prayer beads.
Hum a hymn in sorrowful mystery.
Fallen leaves have covered most of me.
Dead confetti tumbling up from the ground.
Track Name: September, New York, 1973
September, New York, 1973, I was 19 years old, you were older than me.
I was just passing through, as 19 year olds do,
I was sure in my life I'd find more women like you.

A nomad, East Village, I was busking on trains.
You were a waitress wouldn't tell me your name.
You were a bum with holes in your clothes.

You didn't ask, you demanded, that's not how it goes.
I was young and insouciant, but I wasn't dumb.
I was beer-filled and brazen so i said it wrong.
You were red-eyed and rude, couldn't finish your food.
Scribbling on napkins the words to your mood.

But I waited for you on the corner of night,
turning songs into vapors under fluorescent light.
I sang Dion and Smokey, of Wanderers and Clowns.
I sang Johnny Rivers' "Poor Side of Town."

I followed you home, cause you said it's alright.
We sang "The Lion Sleeps Tonight".

I put on a kettle, I put on a record,
I took off my jacket, thanked God that I'd met you.

Well do you remember the way that i do,
if i left out of romance, or something more cruel?
We floated like boats on lattitude lines,
going nowhere but forward, wasting nothing but time.

September, New York, 1973, I was 19 years old, you were older than me.
September, New York, 1973, I was 19 years old, you were older than me.
Track Name: However Can It Be?
How best to be romantic, to softly sing a song of love.
To stress to you where I come from, and where I'd like to take your love.

However can I manage to contain a lover's knowledge,
to explain another's hard edge that softens when it knows it's loved?

How has it come to be that songs are the truest form of me?
I've forever wanted to tell you just what I mean.

But without the melody.
Without the sheen of instruments.
Without the timbre of the band,
without the help of anything,
however can it be?
However can it be?
Track Name: Too Much Too Soon
Too much too soon, it's another one-way moon.
It's a dream that wants to live in the house that lovers built.
It's a dream's demand to wake, won't be kept from rightful days.

Too much too soon, it's another one-way moon.

I envy you, the way you glide across the room.
Wading through, like it was a swimming pool.

Too much too soon, it's another one-way moon.
Too much too soon, it's another one-way moon.