Across The Cul-De-Sac
by Money & King
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Digital Album
Immediate download of 12-track album in your choice of high-quality MP3, FLAC, or just about any other format you could possibly desire.Buy Now $7 USD or more
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CD's
For those who like to hold the music in their hands. The artwork alone (by comics artist, Matthew Thurber) is worth the price of admission!
Includes immediate download of 12-track album in your choice of high-quality MP3, FLAC, or just about any other format you could possibly desire.Buy Now $8 USD or more
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The Question
03:34
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I've Got Time
03:32
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The Laughing Moon
05:20
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Malibu
04:00
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Most Days
05:28
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All I Ask
03:54
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Too Far
04:08
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CID
04:42
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Tigercat
01:57
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Tales from Vienna Woods
05:32
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credits
released 22 February 2013
Produced by Brandon Goldstein and James Sparber
All tracks engineered by James Sparber at Colonna Sonora Studios in Brooklyn
(except pedal steel on “All I Ask” by Keith Waggoner at Fernwood in Los Angeles and some additional engineering by Sean O’Brien)
Mixed by Anthony Puglisi at SENTRALL Sound
Mastered by Paul Gold at Salt Mastering
Cover art and album design by Matthew Thurber
Produced by Brandon Goldstein and James Sparber
All tracks engineered by James Sparber at Colonna Sonora Studios in Brooklyn
(except pedal steel on “All I Ask” by Keith Waggoner at Fernwood in Los Angeles and some additional engineering by Sean O’Brien)
Mixed by Anthony Puglisi at SENTRALL Sound
Mastered by Paul Gold at Salt Mastering
Cover art and album design by Matthew Thurber
tags
license
all rights reserved
feeds
feeds for about
Brooklyn's Money & King is:
Brandon Goldstein: Lead singer/songwriter,
drums
James Sparber: Lead singer/songwriter, acoustic guitar
John Loggins: Bass guitar, vocals
With our featured leads:
Brady Bagger: Keys, harmonica
Tyler Cash: Keys, vocals
Jeff Mensch: Electric guitar
Sean O’Brien: Electric guitar, mandolin, lap steel
James Sweitzer: Electric guitar, slide, mandolin
... more
shows
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Jun 08Brooklyn, NY
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Jun 28Newton, NJ
contact / help
For help with downloads, click here.
For all other inquiries, including help with merch, click here.
- Track Name: Care of Abbott Laboratories
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Care of Abbott Laboratories
By James Sparber
Well, I keep going out and coming home awful late.
I just thought I should tell you.
If I felt the slightest thing I‘d take you in and be home by eight.
Wouldn’t want to rely on you.
‘Cause I’m cold, cold, dead, and alone.
I can feel it coming down.
Cold, cold, dead, and alone,
In my Vicky depression.
Some words that you might use for describing me, distantly:
Mechanics, Chemicals, or Portent, or Divine;
And through a membrane, to reality—or banality—
I return, and I’m not fine.
‘Cause I’m cold, cold, dead, and alone.
I can feel it coming down.
Cold, cold, dead, and alone,
In my Vicky depression. - Track Name: The Question
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The Question
By Brandon Goldstein
Not far from the hotel where my great-grandad lived
And spent the very last of his years,
In a valley appellation well known for its creation
Of something wonderful the whole wide world reveres,
A scene set to music that has no business
Being played by me and my friends:
Pedaling our way among the fields of green and gold.
Whoa, that little road descends.
Images as clear as crisp white wine;
The weight of my pack and a question.
Mt. St. Helena says, “Go no further,
there ain’t no better place than here.”
And the afternoon heat and intoxication
Are making it very hard to steer.
Just a little further now we must move on,
That dilapidated structure just won’t do.
But trespass we must so that we may be alone
For I have something to say to you.
Images as clear as crisp white wine;
The weight of my pack and a question.
Melting in the sun,
Pale-faced,
I turn to you.
Now folks, if you go down to intoxication town,
Give the morning owl our thanks and tip your hat to the snake,
And tell her to close her eyes and not run away.
A landscape so heavenly dry;
Am I talking to you or your ladybug companion?
Melting in the sun,
Pale-faced,
I turn to you and ask you, “Will you marry me?”
Whoa oh oh oh - Track Name: I've Got Time
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I've Got Time
By James Sparber
Remember when you asked if I could scrub off all the grime?
Don’t worry. I’ll get to it. I’ve got time.
My priorities are as you please and never as they lie.
My list is getting longer all the time.
And I’ve got time to rectify things.
I’ve got time to say goodbye.
I’ve got time to do the good things that I should before I die.
And I’ve got time to read the paper.
I’ve got time to write a book.
And I’ve got time to lie beneath the trees.
The shade is blue. The grass is me.
And everything is sacred now, immutable and middlebrow.
One can’t control what can’t be changed.
And if that’s so, then who’s to blame?
(And if not so, am I to blame?) - Track Name: The Laughing Moon
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The Laughing Moon
By Brandon Goldstein
I work every day just to throw it all away
On a future uncertain at best.
At my desk in a daze, with eyes all ablaze,
It’s been days since I’ve seen any rest.
Pick up the phone. Make sure she’s alone.
Is she out with her family or friends?
I saw it all. I saw it all. I saw it all.
I lay on the carpet, stare at the stucco.
There’s madness in my eyes.
I know she’s telling lies.
I love her completely.
Oh, how she cheats me discreetly.
The laughing moon will break me soon.
The laughing moon, the laughing moon.
She looks just right when she goes out at night,
All night long, it's like the sun never rises.
Yes, she invites me out, but I could do without
Meeting strangers I know I’ll dislike.
I try to avoid acting paranoid,
Bite my tongue when she walks through the door.
But all I can see is that hand on her knee
And that smile, that smile meant for me.
Last night you thought you heard her keys hit the gate,
Saw the lights on the driveway.
You followed her footsteps up the stairs
The room was empty. There was no one there.
You took her lipstick, wrote a note on the mirror,
Splashed cold water on your face and rubbed your eyes.
Five in the morning, five at night, look in the mirror:
You’re always alone. - Track Name: Malibu
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Malibu
By James Sparber
Red ambulances corner Cliffside onto Dume at 85.
It's cute that somebody wants to stay alive.
For 40 days and 40 nights I've left her side.
It feels like 10 light years for each obvious second of time.
Alone, I wait
For night to break.
Down the California Incline and up the PCH,
I wait
For the ruler of my seas and tyrant of my night.
Prosaic laughs are not for us. We fear the ordinary things.
I love her, but our love must wear god-wings.
The small details are for the little Wallace Shawns.
Grand gestures are our gift for all you little death dilettantes.
Alone, I wait
For night to break.
Down the California Incline and up the PCH,
I wait
For the ruler of my seas and tyrant of my night. - Track Name: Praise the Flaming Leaves
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Praise the Flaming Leaves
By Brandon Goldstein
Praise the flaming leaves,
The season’s come.
The wind it plays the rain
Like a marching drum.
Way behind our home
Where the cats do run,
She plays with her stones,
Stacking them one by one.
Strike the dinner bell
While the iron’s off.
Fish out the drowning man
From the county trough.
Tie your tennis shoes
With a copper wire.
Sandbag your dad.
Set your own house on fire.
Oh Johnny, row the boat.
Oh Johnny, row the boat.
Oh Johnny, slow the boat. - Track Name: Most Days
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Most Days
By James Sparber
Most days I’m happy we made it;
The end of the world was not the end of good times.
No one but you and I to brave it,
Living on free beachfront with our dogs and our wines.
I try not to think about before.
I don’t remember right was it (was it) some kinda war?
Zombies, Captain Trips, or everyone wanting just a little bit more?
But anyway, I’ll make a list
Of all the things I’ll always miss:
Smoking joints
And drinking Beam
in the
Chinese Music Palace;
Matamoros,
Kokie’s Place,
Girls in summer high dive;
Girls on bikes
(Make you sigh)
Are some other gone things;
Knowing how
To move through crowds,
Knowing how to high-five.
Sometimes on weekends we go
Back to that city we knew.
When it’s not tucked in with blankets of snow,
We watch the wild grass reclaim
From Battery to 228.
Most days I’m happy I met you.
We’ve got the world to ourselves for a while.
No one here to help us or harm us.
We’ve got the world to ourselves for a while.
Smoking joints
And drinking Beam
in the
Chinese Music Palace;
Matamoros,
Kokie’s Place,
Girls in summer high dive;
Girls on bikes
(Make you sigh)
Are some other dumb things;
Knowing how
To move through crowds,
Knowing how to high-five. - Track Name: All I Ask
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All I Ask
By Brandon Goldstein
I must be lonely to fall in love so quickly,
To be this hungry for your touch,
To miss your voice and your Midwestern accent.
I feel half crazy. How can I miss you this much?
Crazy to miss you this much.
My friends all say I've lost my head,
Romanticized a world I hardly know,
That I'm running from a memory
Of a girl who broke my heart a year ago.
So I'll make clear my expectations
If you're worried that I'm moving in too fast:
To be out of my element and in your presence is all I ask.
The concrete's hot and the cars are crawling.
I'm packing up my things and heading east.
I've lost my ambition, can't stand the repetition.
This city's a burden and a beast.
This city's a burden and a beast.
My friends all say I've lost my head,
Romanticized a world I hardly know,
That I'm running from a memory
Of a girl who broke my heart a year ago.
So I'll make clear my expectations
If you're worried that I'm moving in too fast:
To be out of my element and in your presence is all I ask. - Track Name: Too Far
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Too Far
By James Sparber
Sometimes no one knows what you’re made of.
Sometimes no one knows where you are.
Sometimes it’s hard to make a living,
And it’s so hard to be alive,
And it’s so hard to take a day and make it fine.
So I won’t let you go,
I won’t you let you go
Too far...
I won’t let you go too far away.
Sometimes no one knows what you’re afraid of.
Sometimes no one is sitting with you at the bar.
Sometimes it’s hard to make a living,
And it’s so hard to be alive,
And it’s so hard to take a day and make it fine.
So I won’t let you go,
I won’t you let you go
Too far.
I won’t let you go too far away. - Track Name: CID
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Written by Brandon Goldstein and James Sparber
Across the country we will live in harmony
And on the same coast as Mom and Dad.
Tell all my friends that I am very sad.
I didn’t want to say goodbye,
But with you right here by my side I will never want to change my mind.
Will you get behind the wheel?
I’m in no shape to drive,
And we’re a long way from home.
Drive me towards the lights.
The city grins behind them,
And with flashing teeth awaits
Another warm embrace.
There’s a city with a market for the kind of work I do.
I’m gonna give them what they want
And then I’m gonna give everything else to you.
One day we’ll see that it was all worth the pain.
I’d rather be sentimental and nostalgic than stagnant anyway.
Will you get behind the wheel?
I’m in no shape to drive,
And we’re a long way from home.
Drive me towards the lights.
The city grins behind them,
And with flashing teeth awaits
Another warm embrace.
How many years has it been?
It’s done me little good to measure my success.
Into that town, with my cap and gown thrown in the backseat,
I raced to find the door and kick it open.
And now I leave, with only you to impress. - Track Name: Tigercat
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Tigercat
By Brandon Goldstein
I don't want to be a back-seat drummer.
I want to write a hit to close out the summer.
And even when I rock my hands are like a clock,
Just keeping time for some buddies of mine.
I'd rather have a case of that writer's block.
I know that you feel anxious too.
Hold my hand,
'Cause I can understand
What you go through.
How about you? You've written a few.
Do the words you choose give strength to you?
And when you write them down, do you see colors?
And as I write "I love you" this time, do the colors flash like a neon sign?
Can you describe the colors in this song?
Your diary: does it shine brightly too?
'Cause Tigercat,
For me the print was black
'Till I met you. - Track Name: Tales from Vienna Woods
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Tales from Vienna Woods
By James Sparber
We slip through backyards with black plastic guns in hand.
The kids with knives are always ruining our plans.
Across the cul-de-sac—they say—
Mr. Delchambre is ready to take umbrage any day.
In rec-rooms, flat on carpets, underneath wet bars,
The second-born and the sleep-lovers are waging secret wars.
Ooh, better luck when the dream’s taking over.
Top 40 hits at the pool in the summer:
Cicadas in the trees singing songs of getting older.
We lie wide back as we sink into the water
And dream of what we’ll find when we’re outside of the borders,
Like girls from other schools and then our sons and our daughters.
Ooh, better luck when the dream’s taking over.
And sliding out the basement door,
We bike to Meadowlark and smoke our stolen Camels in the dark.
Mr. Delchambre rakes fresh leaves out to the curb.
The statuary in his hedges watch him lurk.
Ooh, better luck when the dream’s taking over.
Top 40 hits at the pool in the summer:
Cicadas in the trees singing songs of getting older.
We lie wide back as we sink into the water
And dream of what we’ll find when we’re outside of the borders,
Like girls from other schools and then our sons and our daughters.
Ooh, better luck when the dream’s taking over.
